Tiny Buddha

Tag: Mindfulness

  • Why It’s So Hard to Just Rest and Why We Need to Do It

    Why It’s So Hard to Just Rest and Why We Need to Do It

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

    In November of 2021, my autoimmune issues flared up. My doctor and I are still unsure which of my conditions—rheumatoid arthritis or fibromyalgia—was the culprit, or if they were acting in cahoots, but the overall achiness and debilitating fatigue were a solid indication that something was more active than usual.

    I woke up tired, needed naps, and often ran out of spoons—a phrase familiar to many with chronic conditions, based on a gorgeous essay called “The Spoon Theory” written by Christine Miserandino.

    While I may not know the reason, the one thing that was certain was that my body was demanding rest.

    Do you have any idea how hard it is to just rest?

    I mean it.

    Knowing that I needed rest did not grant me the immediate ability to actually pull it off.

    I would sit down to watch a show and find myself trying to multitask. Or I would attempt to put off a nap like a recalcitrant toddler. Instead of throwing myself on the floor in a tantrum, I was trying to “push through” so I could finish typing an email or move a load of laundry into the dryer.

    Even with a body and brain that were crying out for rest, it was difficult to allow myself to do it. In the end, I had to reparent myself in order to be able to rest, enforcing stopping times and rest periods.

    Those of us in the western world, especially here in the United States where I live, are programmed to be productive. We are told—and we tell ourselves—all of the things that we “should” be doing in order to be busy. Work in all its forms, from job tasks to errands to chores, is what we are “supposed” to do.

    We are conditioned to be productive and to stay busy from the time we are young. We hear people say things like “I’ll rest when I’m dead” and “no rest for the weary.” We are exhorted to “pay our dues” and “put in the work.”

    If we were somehow fortunate enough to avoid the overt messaging about staying busy and working hard, most of us received those messages indirectly by watching the people in our lives.

    We watched our parents come home from work with arms full of grocery bags, only for them to fix dinner while putting groceries away. Or we were asked what we were doing and made to feel wrong if our answer to the question was a child’s honest “nothing.”

    Long after dinner, once everything was cleaned up or tidied and it was “time to relax,” we watched our parents do additional work, both paid and unpaid. Or we watched them knitting, ironing, or puttering around the house.

    We have been told that we have to “work hard” in order to succeed. That “nothing good comes easy.” That we shouldn’t stop when we are tired, but only when we are “done.”

    Sitting down and resting is not prioritized. Those who decide to rest often must justify it: they have to have earned the right to rest.

    Rest doesn’t only mean sleep, although sleep is a large part of it. It also includes sitting comfortably doing not much of anything at all.

    It could mean listening to music or watching TV or meditating. Or perhaps working quietly on a jigsaw puzzle or craft or reading a book or article. Maybe playing solitaire, or looking out the window, or journaling.

    In the fall, as I was struggling with my autoimmune flare, it occurred to me that I should rest more. I was so accustomed to overriding my body’s signals that I hadn’t realized how far I’d pushed myself.

    When I tapped into how my mind and body were truly feeling, I was shocked to find that my mind and body were almost buckling, on the edge of collapse.

    I waited to notice what was happening until I’d reached the point where I was unable to do many tasks in the day at all. A banner day during that time might have involved doing a single load or laundry or cooking dinner for my husband and me.

    I was so fixated on staying busy that I could no longer assess my need for busyness in an honest manner. I had lost the ability to tune into my body to find out if it needed to move and stretch, or even to stretch out and sleep.

    Had I continued to push ahead for much longer, I’m certain that I would have fallen ill. As it was, I was dealing with brain fog, fatigue, and both joint and muscle pain, all of which made life unpleasant.

    It is easy to see now that I should never have allowed things to get to that state, but fatigue and pain and brain fog have a way of teaming up on you so that you can’t clearly assess much of anything. Nevertheless, when I hit the edge of collapse and burnout, I realized that some serious rest was in order.

    I essentially cleared my calendar for at least three weeks. I cleared my work calendar of appointments, scheduled some brief blog posts and emails, and took time off.

    It was torture at first.

    For one thing, my husband was still getting up and heading out into the world to teach tai chi and qigong classes, so he was modeling “proper” work behavior. For another, I discovered that I was incapable of “just resting.”

    I had to relearn how to listen to my body to discover what it needed. 

    I also had to reprogram my thoughts about rest as being an inherent right that we all hold, and not a reward for productivity.

    I also had to learn how to actually do it.

    I did all of the things I listed earlier as forms of rest, from naps to puzzles to sitting quietly. It was ridiculously difficult.

    I had to almost force myself to limit myself to single-tasking, which is doing one task at a time. That was especially hard if the task was mechanically simple, such as watching a television show. My inner monologue would kick up, chastising me for “just sitting there,” urging me to “be productive.”

    In those moments when I decided that rest meant watching a movie on TV, I sometimes sat on my hands to make sure that I didn’t pick up my phone or a crossword puzzle or something else. I often put my phone on silent and deliberately left it in another room, just to reduce temptation.

    Full disclosure: Even with taking affirmative steps to single-task, I didn’t always manage. I did, however, learn through reinforcement that there was nothing likely to arise in an hour or two of time that required me to give up on resting and take immediate action.

    I realized that in many ways, I was retraining my nervous system to allow itself to relax. It was so used to being in a state of alertness that resting and allowing it to have some time off took some getting used to.

    What I learned when I started to budget rest into my days was that I could start to tell more easily what signals my body was sending. It became easier to converse with my brain and body to find out how they were feeling and what they needed.

    It sounds a bit dissociated when put that way, but I have never felt more integrated than I do now. At any given moment, I can pause, tap into what I am feeling (mentally and physically), and act on my own needs in ways that are more nurturing and caring than before.

    When I realize that I am losing focus on a project—perhaps while typing a blog post or planning a workshop—I no longer push through. Instead, thanks to months of practice, I pause and check in with my brain and body. Thanks to practice, I can quickly ascertain whether I need to take a simple break, to get up and walk around for a bit, to take a walk outdoors, or to stop for the day.

    I am learning to embrace the idea that rest is an inherent right, not something that needs to be earned. It is no longer something that occurs only once I have pushed myself until the point of collapse. 

    As it turns out, the more I lean into rest and build it into my days, the more energy I have to actually accomplish all the things I want to get done in life.

    When I add time off or breaks during the day, I find I have better focus when I need to be working on a task. When I include rest in my days, I have the energy to exercise in the morning and also make a good meal for dinner.

    I invite you to join me in adding actual breaks into your day, where you do nothing “productive” at all. No catching up on phone calls or emails or texts—just rest. I’d love to hear if and how it works for you.

  • What Is Stress-Induced Illness? How Trauma Can Cause Physical Pain

    What Is Stress-Induced Illness? How Trauma Can Cause Physical Pain

    “Wisdom is merely the movement from fighting life to embracing it.” ~Rasheed Ogunlaru

    Three years ago, I fell into the blind spot of medicine: America’s unknown epidemic.

    After numerous tests, scans, scopes, and too many doctors to count, modern medicine could not find anything seriously wrong with me. I also consented to have my gallbladder removed. My first and only surgery at age forty, an “experiment” of sorts.

    Six months into the worst nightmare of my life, my spiraling health started to take a huge toll on me physically, mentally, and emotionally. I didn’t want to live anymore, but I was too chicken to take my own life.

    They Cannot See the Forest for the Trees

    If just one doctor had paid closer attention to my backstory and probed it further, the diagnosis would have been obvious and the treatment plan effective. Here’s the problem: My doctors were only focused on my presenting symptoms and not on my whole being.

    Instead, thoughts of the following conditions (in this exact order) became my daily companions: colon cancer, GERD, IBD, IBS, pancreatic cancer, small intestinal bacterial overgrowth, gluten sensitivity, celiac disease, Meniere’s disease, interstitial cystitis, chronic pelvic pain, pelvic floor dysfunction, motor neuron disease, multiple sclerosis, bladder cancer, thoracic outlet syndrome, pudendal neuralgia, peripheral vascular disease, bile reflux, and a few other conditions I’ve surely forgotten. I was one big, hot mess.

    Of the twenty-six symptoms I experienced, the constant bladder pain was the most excruciating and difficult to deal with. Imagine a UTI that never goes away. Nothing could knock it down.

    The pain took me to the edge of wanting to take my life many times. At one point, I told a doctor that I would give him my entire 401k savings if he could make the pain go away.

    It’s Time to Surrender and Trust the Process

    In September 2021, I surrendered to the pain and requested a referral to an academic medical center after fighting it for nearly two years. Somewhere along the way, I made the conscious choice to walk with the pain instead.

    I quickly learned that doctors specializing in pain medicine do not try to cure pain, but they try their best to equip patients with strategies to cope with their pain. Along with the things my pain psychologist taught me, he encouraged me to reacquaint myself with Curable, an app I had actually loaded onto my phone almost a year prior but had quickly dismissed. Stupid mistake on my part.

    Addressing pain at an emotional and psychological level did not make any sense to me. After all, I had a structural problem, not a brain problem—or so I thought.

    Fortunately, during my second round of trying the Curable app, I discovered Howard Schubiner MD and one of his colleagues, Alan Gordon LCSW, a psychotherapist specializing in the treatment of chronic pain through pain reprocessing therapy (PRT).

    Dr. Schubiner is the founder and director of the Mind Body Medicine Program at Providence Hospital in Southfield, Michigan. His program uses the most current research methodologies to treat individuals who suffer from the mind body syndrome (MBS) or tension myositis syndrome (TMS), as described by Dr. John Sarno.

    What is mind body syndrome? I’m going to answer this in a second, but first I need to take this story back to my childhood. This is where the story gets very interesting and revealing.

    The Haunting Effects of a Bad Childhood

    As I started to dig deeper, I was introduced to the landmark 1998 ACE study that, as its abbreviation indicates, explored “adverse childhood experiences.”

    The ACE research concluded that the more adversities a person experienced as a child—whether it be a parental death or incarceration, poverty, neighborhood violence, or abuse—the more likely that person would be to suffer from serious physiological disorders as an adult. I had six childhood adversities: a household with substance misuse, violence, divorce, severe poverty, neglect, and incarceration of a parent, all at or before the age of ten.

    I also discovered a recent meta-analysis showing that individuals with a history of psychological trauma, regardless of the type of trauma, were almost three times more likely to have chronic pain than those who had experienced no trauma.

    Bingo! Just call me Sherlock Holmes.

    Translation: As a child, I was threatened repeatedly—not physically, but emotionally—causing my body to have a stress response. This prepared my body to fight or flee. Because my body stayed in this stress response mode for an extended period of time, crucial neural connections in my developing brain most likely suffered damage, causing me to be hypersensitive to stressful events.

    In other words, my alarm switch is always “on,” unless I can lower the perceived danger in my brain. My divorce was just the tipping point to my spiraling health.

    The Day the SWAT team Visited My Home

    To illustrate how inept society was in the early nineties at addressing emotional trauma, I only need to point to one early morning when the SWAT team jumped my backyard fence and pointed their submachine guns at me while I was feeding our family dog, Smokey. Their target was my dad (he sold drugs), but he was nowhere to be found.

    He had been out partying all night and had yet to return home. I was the only person home at the time. A scared shitless ten-year-old boy. I liked watching the reality show Cops, but this was completely surreal.

    This is the crazy part. The SWAT team left me in the backyard and told me to go to school, like nothing had happened. I never spoke to a counselor or therapist about this frightening event.

    I grew up thinking it was normal to not talk about emotions—or scary things like being stuck in the middle of a drug raid, alone and helpless. I grew up real fast that day.

    Mind Body Syndrome, Anyone?

    Mind body syndrome, or psychophysiologic disorder (PPD), is a certain diagnosis arising the majority of the time in the absence of tissue or structural damage in the body, when nerve pathways become continuously or intermittently activated by past or current life stressors.

    The Psychophysiologic Disorders Association states that the symptoms of PPD are due to altered nerve pathways in the brain that affect the body. Symptoms can include headache, back pain, chest pain, muscle or joint pain, abdominal or pelvic pain, constipation, diarrhea, bloating, nausea, irritable bowel syndrome, discomfort in the bladder or during urination, fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue syndrome, and many other symptoms.

    To illustrate how inept today’s doctor is at diagnosing a psychophysiological disorder, I only need to point to my first-ever encounter with a board-certified gastroenterologist in March 2019. Gastroenterologists are doctors who are highly trained to diagnose and treat problems in the gastrointestinal (GI) tract and liver.

    Basically, they get paid handsomely to look up people’s butts and take pictures all day long. If you ask me, it sounds pretty mundane and not all that creative. The best news you can receive after getting one of their colonoscopies is that you really didn’t need the procedure after all.

    Emotional Tone Deafness

    To help remedy my bowels that had gone haywire (the first of my many symptoms), I anxiously took the slot of the next available doctor at a nearby GI clinic. While on the examination table, I related that I was smack dab in the middle of a horrible divorce and in a lot of emotional distress after being in a dysfunctional marriage for the last ten years.

    The doctor’s response? Nothing. Zip. Nada. You could have heard a pin drop in the room. Instead of acknowledging my unfortunate circumstances, this dimwit doctor went about the rest of his examination and acted like what I had shared with him was the most benign, most boring thing he had ever heard in his life. By my definition, this was a moral injustice.

    News flash: The Holmes-Rahe Stress Scale indicates that divorce is the second highest stressor for humans, second only to the death of a spouse.

    Searching High and Low

    I had secretly wished that my doctor was going to validate my emotional trauma and scars and identify them as the cause of my bowel changes, but his lack of a response only reinforced the fact in my brain that something was structurally wrong with me. And so that’s the path I went down for nearly three years, trying to find something structural to explain one unexplainable symptom after another.

    When I say I turned over every stone, I really did.

    I went as deep as internal pelvic floor therapy to try to cure my bladder pain. That’s right. My physical therapist and I mapped out and explored every nook and cranny of my pelvic floor via my anal canal. As a bonus, I had homework to complete with a funky wand apparatus.

    Remember, I was desperate and willing to try almost anything. Everything except the butt gas. It’s basically ozone therapy gas that is administered into the body. In my case, I would have given it to myself through my butt.

    I can’t help but laugh when I recall the day I was first presented with this option. This is what my life had become. Wacky alternative therapies.

    In my career, I get paid to find solutions and fix problems. Fixing my health was no different, I thought. In my futile attempt to fix my health, I flushed thousands of dollars down the drain in the process and just about lost my sanity.

    Can This Really Be Real?

    At this point, one might ask if PPD symptoms are real or imaginary. The symptoms are real. In fact, the symptoms can be just as severe as those from any other disease. Some patients with PPD are ill enough to be hospitalized.

    Experts like David Clarke MD, a retired gastroenterologist and president of the Psychophysiologic Disorders Association, like to point out that one in six adults and 30–40% of primary care patients suffer from pain symptoms and chronic conditions that are “medically unexplained.” This is America’s unknown epidemic.

    But wait. There is a silver lining that comes with all this unfortunate news. Once PPD is recognized, treatment is available and is often effective in alleviating symptoms. Dr. Schubiner likes to ask: “Why manage your pain when you can cure it?”

    The Best Treatment Around

    So how effective is the mind body syndrome treatment? Dr. Schubiner and his colleagues published an article not too long ago demonstrating that emotion-focused therapy was superior to cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) for dramatic pain reduction in people with fibromyalgia, many of whom had experienced childhood trauma.

    Dr. Schubiner and Alan Gordon also helped lead the recent study at the University of Colorado–Boulder that showed that not only can chronic back pain be managed, it can be cured using a mind body approach. In their study of 151 total participants, 66% randomized to PRT were pain free or nearly pain free at post treatment.

    Once I heard this, I started to tackle my pain at the emotional and psychological levels. Along with somatic tracking, expressive writing, mindfulness, and reprogramming the brain, my favorite treatment activity has been intensive short-term dynamic psychotherapy (outlined in Dr. Schubiner’s book, Unlearn Your Pain), where deeply buried emotions of anger, resentment, guilt, shame, sadness, and grief are uncovered and released. Healing often occurs rapidly once these emotions are stabilized.

    During this process of intensive short-term dynamic psychotherapy (ISTDP), I have taken several of my most incompetent doctors, and even my dad, behind the proverbial woodshed, and I have given them the worst tongue lashing they’ve surely ever received in their lives. Cursing is highly recommended and encouraged.

    While I couldn’t literally slash the tires of the doctor who appeared earlier in this story, this was the next best thing. And it felt so good.

    You might be wondering what happened to my dad. He eventually turned his life around, and I am so grateful for this.

    Today, while my pain is not completely gone yet, it’s generally at about a two or three instead of a six or seven. I will take this any day.

  • Mindfulness, Creativity, and Nature: A Healing Trifecta for Lasting Peace

    Mindfulness, Creativity, and Nature: A Healing Trifecta for Lasting Peace

    “It is the marriage of the soul with nature that gives birth to imagination.” ~Henry David Thoreau

    Before my accident, before we had kids, after we divorced, after my father died from Covid, before the pandemic…

    We tend to divide our lives into the before and afters that define our world, whether personally or on a grand scale. These divisions offer context, providing a kind of roadmap that supports us in reflecting on the beauty and darkness, the decisions we made, and who we might be if certain things had never occurred.

    I have always believed that the only reason to look back is to learn. Still, I can’t help but wonder: What if, when my marriage ended, I already had mindfulness skills in place? What if I had known the infinite ways nature could soothe my soul? Would my life have been different if I had consciously known that creativity was the safest place to process my emotions?

    Perhaps I would not have been paralyzed in grief and sorrow. Maybe my children would have been spared a terrible custody battle. I suppose there is a chance I would not have gone bankrupt. I wonder if I would have ever gotten divorced at all.

    Here’s the biggest question: Would I change any of it now?

    Not a chance.

    As difficult as it all was, I learned that every tool I needed to survive and thrive was right in front of me, and always will be.

    My journey led me to a path of sharing what I am most passionate about: helping others find their way, through what I called a “spiritual toolbox”—a personal supply of healthy actions and practices to choose from or combine when things become difficult.

    Your spiritual toolbox can hold things like creativity and gratitude practices, exercise, meditation, time in nature, and journaling; a hug, the love of a pet, a hot bath, and even an occasional glass of wine. It’s wonderful to open in the moment, and it’s even better to use as preventative medicine (the toolbox, not the wine).

    My “aha” spiritual-toolbox moment came when I accidently discovered the transformative power of combining three tools specifically, as a trifecta. These were: creativity, meditation, and time in nature. 

    This trifecta insight divided my life into two parts: asleep and awakened.

    The first part is quite literal: at age nineteen, I fell asleep while driving and didn’t walk for nearly a year afterward. My accident was the synopsis and ending of a carefree childhood and adolescence, where I suffered no hardship that would have “awakened” me to anything beyond plans for the next evening.

    However, while I physically woke up pinned under the tire of my car, I also woke up spiritually: I was alive, and my two best friends who were with me, were uninjured. I was officially “awake” on infinite levels, primarily to the deepest sense of gratitude. And, while I metaphorically “went to sleep” later in other areas of my life, the trifecta was always there to support my awakenings.

    From the time I could crawl, my preference was to do it outside. My imagination was my best friend, and my mother could more easily find me digging mud from the creek behind our house rather than playing next door. I made togas from my curtains, spoke in my own language, and told everyone I was “Elizabeth from another land.”

    Obviously, I had no way of knowing about the robust and ever-growing body of research indicating that artmaking and creativity have been shown to increase positive emotions, decrease depression and anxiety, reduce stress, and even boost the immune system. That art therapy could boost the memory of Alzheimer’s patients, or reduce the side-effects of chemotherapy.

    I didn’t know that indulging creatively literally creates a “cascade of endorphins, serotonin and dopamine, the brain chemicals that affect our well-being,” increasing feelings of joy and contentment.

    I hadn’t yet wrapped my head around the fact that everyone is creative, and the benefits have nothing to do with artistic skill. I simply knew that I was happiest when I was being creative, and that artmaking could pull me out of almost any funk.

    I was intuitively awakened to creativity.

    Then, at age forty, my marriage collapsed. I collapsed with it, down a slippery and medicated slope, into what was later diagnosed as “brief psychosis disorder.” I struggled with insomnia, bankruptcy, a custody battle, losing my home, and losing my business, all at once. 

    And, while I am a believer in whatever prescribed medications are necessary and helpful, mine were not properly prescribed, so my body and mind simply gave up.

    Thankfully, I had recently awakened to meditation.

    You can quote me that meditation and mindfulness are the most powerful tools you will ever discover on your path to well-being, in every single aspect of your life. The research on this topic goes back thousands of years.

    But here’s where it gets interesting: The brain responds to meditation and mindfulness in a similar way to how it responds to creativity—in both cases, external stimuli is blocked out, and the front of our brain, the prefrontal cortex, quiets down. The pre-frontal cortex, AKA the “gatekeeper,” is like a control center, and is very much involved in emotional regulation, decision making, planning and attention, and self-monitoring.

    In other words, dialing back the “gatekeeper” can free us up from planning, worry, projecting, and ruminating. Who wouldn’t feel happier as a result? 

    Armed with the foundations for my spiritual toolbox, I soldiered on, raising two boys on my own, supporting myself in various marketing and PR endeavors, discovering my inner advocate through non-profit work, writing two books, and facilitating creativity retreats. My love for the outdoors had evolved, and my first choice of exercise was hiking.

    I did not know that studies had linked time outside to reduced anxiety and depression, or even that nature inspired creativity. I had no context for nature therapy, where nature is literally characterized as a therapeutic environment.

    I hadn’t read the Time Magazine research about how spending time in nature can lower levels of cortisol, improve heart health, promote cancer-fighting cells, help with depression and anxiety, inspire awe, and increase overall well-being. All I knew was that for me, outside was better than inside.

    I had awakened to the healing powers of nature.

    I began meditating outside, tuning into the natural world. I practiced walking meditation and was awestruck by the beauty and felt sense of connectedness. I was present in a way I had never experienced.

    Before long, I began gathering materials from nature and making art with them. I realized that I was more at peace than I had ever been—and there was a definite “carry-over” of calm, peace, and joy into my overall functioning. 

    I can’t recall if I was on top of a rock in Nevada or in a California canyon, but then came the moment: It was the trifecta of nature, creativity, and mindfulness that was changing my life. When I used these tools together, my depression lifted and my fears dissolved. For the first time in a long time, I experienced hope.

    Slowly but surely, my spirit began to heal. I had a safe, accessible, and powerful way to safely process my experience, build resilience, and move forward, joyfully.

    Since that time, I have awakened to many other tools that go inside my spiritual toolbox. For now, as an emerging art therapist, meditation junkie, and nature lover, it is my honor to awaken you to simple practices that support you in the most powerful trifecta I know.

    Creating Peace on Earth

    The peace sign is a powerful symbol that is universally recognized. It connects us, consciously and unconsciously, in something positive. It’s also simple to make, right outside, on the earth, implementing the spiritual toolbox trifecta of creativity, mindfulness, and nature. Here’s how:

    Head outside alone or with a friend or loved one. Kids will also enjoy this practice!

    Breathe deeply and move more slowly than you normally would, taking in the sights, sounds, and sensations of nature. Pause and let this experience sink in.

    Let objects in nature call you: Begin gathering stones, branches, leaves, or wildflowers. Observe how each object looks, feels, and smells as you touch it with your hands. If you are with someone, share your observations with them.

    Find the right spot and create your peace symbol. This could be in your own yard or in a public place, like a park or beach, where other people can see and enjoy it.

    Have fun, indulge, and witness. No one is looking! Sink into your experiences and senses for this brief time. Take a few long, deep breaths, feeling and smelling the earth.

    Reflect on the peace symbol. What does it mean to you? What memories or sensations arise in your body as you reflect on this powerful symbol?

    Set an intention to bring forward any feelings of peace and wellness that you have experienced in this practice.

    Be patient and honor your journey. Wellness and healing are lifelong endeavors. Stepping into intentional self-care is an act of compassion, for yourself and the world.

    Be grateful. By creating “peace on earth,” you are implementing the healing trifecta while sharing a powerful message that others might see and experience on their own nature walk. You are also awakening to peace, within yourself.

  • Feeling Weighed Down by Regret? What Helps Me Let Go

    Feeling Weighed Down by Regret? What Helps Me Let Go

    “Be kind to past versions of yourself that didn’t know the things you know now.” ~Unknown

    When I taught yoga classes in jails in Colorado and New Jersey, I would end class with the Metta Meditation:

    May we all feel forgiveness.

    May we all feel happiness.

    May we all feel loved.

    May all our sufferings be healed.

    May we feel at peace.

    The women, all clothed in light gray sweatpants, would be in a relaxed yoga posture, usually lying on their yoga mat with their legs up the wall. The fluorescent lights would be full blast, as they always are in a jail or prison. Some women would feel comfortable closing their eyes. Some wouldn’t.

    With quiet meditative music playing, I led the meditation with the gentlest voice that I could, taking into consideration that the noise outside the room would be loud. Often, we could hear the incessant dribbling of basketballs in the men’s gym. Someone in the complex might be yelling, and we all would have to work past it.

    As I spoke that first line, “May I feel forgiveness,” their tears would start, steady streams rolling down their faces. When we would talk afterward, they said that the most challenging part of the practice was forgiving themselves.

    If these inmates had been allowed to dress as they wanted, they would have seemed like any other group of yoga students.

    I couldn’t tell who had murdered someone—because their life felt so desperate; or who had too many DWIs—because their addictions (the ones that they used to cover up abuse and trauma) were out of control; or who got a restraining order against an abuser, and then violated it herself—because she was sure he would be loving this time.

    Now that they were incarcerated, their parents and children were also suffering the consequences.

    Choices That Become Regrets

    We can all understand that our personal choices have sometimes created challenges for others. Some of us were just lucky that we weren’t incarcerated for our decisions.

    We have all made decisions that we wish we could reverse. We have said things that we want to take back. We neglected something important, sacred, and cherished, and there were consequences. We might have been too naive or too absorbed in principle or perfection, and there were emotional casualties.

    These regrets lurk in the backs of our minds. They are like dark shadows stalking our heart space, with ropes binding our self-acceptance, keeping us from flying high. We might still be feeling the repercussions of choices made twenty, thirty, forty years ago. And even today, the shame and guilt impact our decision-making.

    The mistakes I made that affected my children are the most challenging to process. The abuse in my second marriage was harmful to my children, my community, and me. The fallout took years to unwind.

    When life seemed back to normal, I had time to see my part in the trauma—mainly the red flags that I ignored when I was dating him. Ignoring what went on in his first marriage and the comments that he said, that made me feel uncomfortable, but I didn’t respond to, are my hindsight, my ball and chain, dragging on my self-worth. Time was healing, but I could also be triggered by even little mistakes. Even if I said something wrong in a conversation, like we all do, I could be pulled down the slippery slope to a pile of unresolved remorse.

    I have come to enough resolve not to think about those stories most of the time. I’m not sure that I will ever find total peace with some of them. I know that they still have the power to sabotage my peace of mind.

    I know that it is worth the effort to come to some resolution of our regrets, even if we have to keep chipping away at them over time.

    Processing Regrets Consciously

    One way that I have processed regret is to write out the story. Dump it all out of my head—including the hard stuff. If possible, I write out what I would do or say differently the next time. I find that there is healing in knowing that I have learned from my past mistakes.

    Writing the story out can also give me a clear picture of what amends I need to make.

    Is there someone to say I’m sorry to? Do I need to muster the courage to have a heartfelt dialogue with the other player in the story? Or if I have already said I’m sorry, do I need to forgive myself? Do I need to consciously let the story go now? Do I need to remind myself that it doesn’t do me any good to dwell on the story?

    I also take my regrets to my meditation practice.

    One of my most potent times of processing regret happened when I was sitting on the garden roof of our stone home, early one morning in the spring. I was feeling heavy. The weight of the abuse in my second marriage, and the resulting divorce, was pulling me down once again.

    Listening to the birds singing to each other, I felt a sudden inspiration to recite the Metta Meditation—the one that had brought tears to the inmates’ eyes in those faraway jails.

    “May we all feel forgiveness,” I began. This time, the wonderment of my surroundings combined with the ancient familiar words to give me a feeling of release and freedom I hadn’t felt before. The sound of birdsong let me know that I could let go of another piece of my remorse over what I could have done differently. My tears welled up. My heart relaxed.

    Accepting that I might not see complete harmony with my regrets is, itself, part of letting them go. I have heard this from other clients.

    A common challenge for women in the second half of life is not feeling close to their children. Marcia, the mother of five adult children, regrets how hard she was on her oldest daughter. Her attempts to repair the relationship haven’t had the results she wanted. Accepting that this estrangement might or might not be temporary is challenging. She has assured her daughter that she wishes to be closer, and that is the peace that she can find each day.

    We also might need to find a resolution with someone who has already passed. I came to peace with my mother, twelve years after she died, using the Metta Meditation. That completely surprised me and freed up my heart more than I ever thought possible.

    Becoming Whole

    Every regret, memory of shame, and overwhelming guilt are part of who we are. When we are driven by them, we might make choices that aren’t in our best interest. We might believe that we don’t merit good things or that we deserve to be relentlessly punished. If we fuel our regrets by reiterating them, we reinforce our shame and increase the emotional charge. Our spirit will continue to be fragmented, tethered to the past, and we will feel incomplete.

    If we can process our regrets with tenderness and compassion, we can use these hard memories as a part of our wisdom bank.

    Wholehearted living is accepting ourselves with all the mistakes that we have made. Wholehearted living is compassion for all the times in our life when we made mistakes. It is understanding that we are not alone—every single adult has regrets. When we live wholeheartedly, we can have healthier relationships and make wiser decisions in all our endeavors.

  • How Mindfulness Helped Me Become My Own Best Friend

    How Mindfulness Helped Me Become My Own Best Friend

    “With mindfulness, you can establish yourself in the present in order to touch the wonders of life that are available in that moment.”  ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    I am not a good friend to myself. This realization shook me as I was riding the bus home one day from the local university where I taught.

    This realization had been building for some time, but it struck me powerfully that day. I was teaching a summer class on Asian philosophy, and we were reading the Sayings of Buddha. We had been discussing a passage about a monk watching his feelings.

    The passage explained that when the monk had happy feelings, he knew he had happy feelings. And when he had unhappy feelings, he knew he had unhappy feelings. And as the monk went about his day, the passage went on, he watched himself in all his actions. If he chopped wood, he knew he was chopping wood. And if he swept the floor, he knew he was sweeping the floor.

    The Buddha explained that such attentive mindfulness helps us decrease our own suffering.

    One of my students said, “I don’t understand. How is this supposed to be helpful?” I didn’t have an answer. If I was honest with myself, constantly watching myself and noticing my feelings and actions sounded slow, mundane, and boring to me. I told my student I didn’t know the answer to his question but that I would think about it and get back to him.

    As I was walking to the bus after class, I thought, “If I don’t think about my feelings and actions, what do I usually think about?” I realized that I was usually thinking about everything but the present moment.

    For instance, I would often think about a past regret. Or I would think about a future worry. Or I spent a lot of time ruminating over my current life and finding everything that was wrong with it or everything that was wrong with me.

    As I rode the bus home, I realized that I thought about everything except myself as I was in the current moment. And that’s when it dawned on me. I am not a good friend to myself.

    I realized that if I treated my friends the way I treated myself, I would never really listen to them when they were talking to me. Rather, I would be thinking about the past, worrying about the future, and finding fault with them and everything in our surroundings.

    And that’s not how I treat my friends. I do my best to be there for them when they were having a hard time, to listen to them, and to encourage them as much as possible. Being a good friend is one of the most important things to me.

    Treating my friends like I treat myself would destroy our friendship, I realized. It would make them feel like I didn’t care about them or that I even hated them. And that shocked me because if such behavior would be destructive to my friendship with others, I realized it was probably destructive to my relationship with myself. No wonder I often feel stressed, anxious, unconfident, and lacking in self-worth, I thought. I decided this had to change.

    Later that day, I was sitting in my office thinking about all this. In a moment of inspiration, I put my hand over my heart and pledged to be my own best friend from then on out, to be present, and to listen.

    Much to my surprise, I felt a big weight fall off my shoulders and tears fill my eyes. And in that moment, I realized that, among other things, the practice of mindfulness helps us become our own best friend, something I had apparently needed for a long time.

    When we are mindful of our feelings and actions, we walk with ourselves throughout the day, listen to ourselves, and recognize how things are going in our world. Mindfulness helps us do this with loving, gentle attention and non-judgmental compassion. These are some of the greatest gifts we can give to ourselves or anyone.

    Since that summer, I have consistently practiced mindfulness both informally and formally. As I go through my day, I do my best to stay present in the moment, paying attention to the events going on around me, as well as my feelings. This helps me feel calmer, and more focused and joyful.

    For example, several years ago, I was feeling especially anxious one summer. When I noticed myself feeling this way, I stopped and asked myself what was going on and what I needed. Surprisingly, I got a very clear message from my heart and mind. They told me, ‘You have been inside far too much lately, and you need to go outside more.”

    I listened to myself and started going on daily walks in a forest near my house. To my surprise, my stress levels and anxiety started to decrease, and I felt more peaceful. These daily walks are still a consistent part of my self-care practice, and they were especially helpful during the stress of the pandemic. I credit mindfulness with helping me discover how important it is to have a self-care practice.

    I have also experimented with pausing intentionally in my day to focus on my breathing and awareness. Sometimes I do a short practice session in which I close my eyes and just focus on ten breaths. And sometimes I listen to guided meditations that help me relax, tune into my thoughts, and to notice the tension I’m holding in various parts of my body.

    No matter how stressful my day is, these moments of intentional awareness are like an oasis. They help me reconnect to myself and my intention to be my own best friend. I finish them feeling loved, peaceful, and ready to reconnect with the world again.

    For the last few years, I have also been practicing moments of silence with my students at the beginning of the classes I teach at a local college. At the beginning of class, I turn off the lights, sit down with them, and invite them to be silent with me. I direct all of us to focus on our breathing for a few minutes. I never force students to engage in the moment of silence. I ask only that they be silent so others can practice.

    Frequently before the moments of silence, I share brief, encouraging ideas, reminding them that they are worthy, capable, connected, and called to adventure. This adventure is their ability to be their own friend and to connect in a meaningful way with the moment and the world around them.

    I have been so surprised how well my students have received the moments of silence. Class becomes still, peaceful. Many students close their eyes and focus on their breathing. Others just look around and let their minds unwind. We finish the moment of silence energized for our class discussion and study.

    Students frequently comment that the moment of silence provides one of their only moments of peace during the day and helps them transition to class. One time a student wrote on an evaluation, “Thank you for reminding us of our worth.”

    Contemporary culture is increasingly noisy, frenetic, and fragmented. Its hyper-competitive atmosphere can pit us against our self and each other. In such an environment, it is easy to focus on everything but our own experience of the moment and the beauty in it.

    Mindfulness has reminded me that the primary purpose of my life is not to do and have more. My primary purpose is to be my own best friend and savor the beauty of the moment I am in.

  • The Science of Happiness: 9 Feel-Good Tools to Boost Your Mood

    The Science of Happiness: 9 Feel-Good Tools to Boost Your Mood

    “Remember, being happy doesn’t mean you have it all. It simply means you’re thankful for all you have.” ~Unknown

    I remember sitting on the New York City subway, tears streaming down my face, armed with valium and lithium along with other antidepressants that my psych had just prescribed.

    I was desperate, in that cave I had come to know as depression. Dark, hopeless, fearful depression. The cold metal seat of the subway made me feel raw and exposed. I couldn’t function. I couldn’t stop crying. I was panicked that I would be like this forever.

    That was an example of one time in my life. Yeah, I got over it. And there were other episodes of this beast. I gradually became sick and tired of being sick and tired.

    I remember the day. I had been in depression again, and from what seemed like nowhere I started to feel the light of gratitude. I was actually feeling grateful! And it felt so very good! I knew I could start to think and feel differently.

    Then and there I finally vowed to find out how to bring happiness into my life on a consistent basis. Sure, there would be the hard times, but my goal became to live my life in the most positive way I could. I discovered that happiness is an inside job and a process. There is a science to being happier. And I’m here to tell you, it can be done.

    Maybe you’ve never been that down. I hope not. But if you’re feeling low or blue, there is help for you.

    So let’s look at the science of happiness.

    Sonia Lyubormirsky and colleagues have discovered that we can actually raise our happiness levels. According to their research, 50% of our happiness is genetic, hardwired, we are born with a happiness set point. This might explain why your sister is always happy, while you struggle to make it through a day at times. Unfortunately, this set point cannot be changed.

    The next thing to consider: 10% of our happiness is due to life circumstances—our gender, our age, where we grew up, our occupation, significant events in our lives, whether we are married or single, etc.

    For instance, you might think that having more money or having that new car would make you happier, but it only would make you happier up to a point. Then the effect of “hedonic adaptation” takes over. That is the tendency we all have to get used to what we have, causing our happiness levels to go back to the way they were before we got that “new thing.”

    If you’re worried about survival, then having enough money would be critical. But studies show that the rich aren’t any happier than the rest of us. In fact, it’s been reported that they claim they have more headaches and worries. Again, happiness is an inside job.

    Now the good news: 40% of our happiness is left for intentional activity. This is where we have choice. We can change and manage our state of mind. This 40% is where we have control over our happiness levels. We may not be able to change our set point, but we can change our happiness levels! It’s up to us.

    There are many things we can do as intentional habits. We can practice acts of kindness, learn to forgive, connect with others, take care of our bodies (through both physical activity and meditation)—and these are just a few.

    One of the best places to start is with a daily gratitude practice. Write down three things that make you grateful daily. Choose different things each day. Write down why they make you grateful. The why is very important.

    Studies done in corporations like Google have shown this practice increases positivity levels. Make this a daily intentional practice. It may seem corny at first but, hey, science has shown that it works. Guaranteed to change your mindset.

    There is a whole science to happiness, and it consists of daily, (what I like to call), “happiness hygiene habits.” You do these things like you brush your teeth. They keep your happiness levels higher. You choose what works best for you and you make it a daily practice.

    For instance, Harvard Health Publishing has reported that moving your body, be it exercising, walking, dancing, or practicing yoga, has in most cases been as effective as an antidepressant. Low intensity exercise sustained over time spurs the release of proteins called neurotrophic or growth factors, which cause nerve cells to grow and make new connections. The improvement in brain function makes us feel better.

    Back when I was so down, I had an insight and realized that if I wanted to have better days I was going to have to do for myself. I was going to have to understand what helps me change my mindset from negative to positive.

    Happiness isn’t something you go after and then once you get it, you have it for good. It’s an ongoing process of daily maintenance using the tools that the science of happiness has uncovered. 

    Some of these tools:

    1. Setting realistic, achievable, and personally significant goals has given me a purpose.

    My goals become projects that inspire and excite me. I set intrinsic goals versus extrinsic goals. These pursuits make me happier and keep me young. I no longer set goals about money, ego, or power. I value and truly “own” my goals; they are not handed down by what society dictates or what my parents, neighbors, or anyone else externally thinks are worthy

    2. Savoring positive moments has become a real source of joy.

    When I find a sunrise with a glowing moon that is awesome, I hold onto that awe and revel in it. Catch the beauty, savor the positive.

    3. Connecting with people can make a huge difference.

    Reaching out to good friends, (even when I don’t want to) has helped me stay more connected and therefore more content.

    4. Sharing with a close friend what’s going on in my life helps to take the weight off my shoulders and I get to share my secrets.

    You’re only as sick as your secrets. Sharing is caring. Listening to good friends is just as healing.

    5. Practicing random acts of kindness (letting someone go first in a line or writing a “thank you” letter) has shown me compassion.

    These small acts get me thinking along the lines of being of service. Being of service takes the focus off of me and onto others. Where can I make a difference in someone else’s life?

    6. Increasing my spiritual connection has become a source of hope and strength.

    Through meditation, prayer, and contemplation, I have found a connection with the universal source which I tap into daily.

    7. Catching my negative self-talk has been huge in helping me to stay positive.

    Catching negative talk such as: catastrophizing (“This is terrible”), all or nothing thinking (“It always turns out like this”), negative predictions (“My finances will be in ruins”), labeling (“I’m so stupid”) and so on has been a big turnaround.

    Catching these thoughts is not always easy, but I’m on the lookout for them now. I immediately stop myself and switch the thought to a positive, more accurate statement. Our negative thoughts aren’t the truth of the situation; they’re lies and distortions the ego tells us. It’s all in how we perceive it.

    8. Paying attention to the little things helps me maintain a healthy mental space.

    Even something as simple as listening to my music and getting up and dancing will almost always lift my mood.

    9. Finally, living in the moment as much as I can, without bringing the past into it or dooming and glooming about the future has allowed me to be free of torment.

    The “now” is where true peace lies. Present moment awareness is simple but not always easy.

    —

    So all of these actions and more can make up our 40% choice point. We can raise our state of well-being through practice of the happiness hygiene habits. Science has proven that practicing these habits has helped in raising low-level pessimists into low-level optimists.

    Hey, if I can do it, anyone can. And that means you!

  • 4 Ways to Save Your Sanity When Life Gets Hard and Overwhelming

    4 Ways to Save Your Sanity When Life Gets Hard and Overwhelming

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

    In December of 2020, we noticed Mom’s speech seemed difficult. Like she had stuffed cotton balls in her mouth, and someone was restraining her jaw from moving. We asked her about it, she said it was nothing.

    We hadn’t seen each other since we got together over the holidays. On New Year’s Day 2020, we clinked glasses filled with sparkling wine and shared bold predictions about how this was going to be our best year yet (spoiler alert, it wasn’t).

    With every passing week and conversation, it got worse. We brought it up many times, my sister and I. We pleaded with her to see a doctor. We were separated by thousands of miles and a closed border. My sister in Virginia, me in California, Mom in Canada.

    She said no, it wasn’t a big deal, it was getting better (spoiler alert again, it also wasn’t). She insisted she was fine. She could eat, drink, work, and speak. It was all good. She repeated this message as our worries grew. We felt powerless to help, especially in the face of her denial and refusal to get care.

    In March of 2021, I got an odd message on Facebook messenger. It was from a woman who said she worked with my mother, asking me to call her. She had taken my mother to the hospital the night before, where she was admitted for extreme dehydration and exhaustion.

    Her symptoms made no sense to them either, so she endured a battery of tests. Ultimately, it was revealed that what ailed her was amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, also known as ALS or Lou Gehrig’s disease. A horrible progressive nervous system disease that causes loss of muscle control. It is always fatal, with no known cure.

    Her disease first attacked her ability to speak and swallow, an unusual first set of symptoms. When she was hospitalized, she finally admitted she hadn’t eaten a real meal in thirty days and had been able to drink less and less.

    My sister and I are both career women with young families. I work for a tech company. The work is fast moving, complex, and nuanced. I used to pride myself on my “meeting endurance.” I often tackled days with ten to fourteen meetings, with enough energy left to crank out work deliverables, do an intense workout, and spend time with my six-year-old twins.

    With my mother’s diagnosis and the new responsibilities of caregiving during a pandemic, I had to revisit many of my previous beliefs and assumptions. Here’s what I learned. I hope it helps you too.

    Lesson 1: Out with stretch goals, in with baseline goals.

    I’m a (sometimes) recovering overachiever. I have a history of establishing huge stretch goals and basking in satisfaction when I smash them. For years I was motivated by the striving to do more, be better.

    Until I wasn’t.

    With my mother’s diagnosis and the challenges of parenting and working in a pandemic, overwhelm swallowed me whole. It felt like I was surrounded by fuzzy darkness. Like I was moving through molasses.

    I wasn’t alone, of course; mental health issues skyrocketed globally. Rates of depression and anxiety are rising. The term “languishing” was introduced to express the lack of thriving many more experienced.

    I had to rethink my relationship to accomplishment.

    I have given myself a break from stretch goals. I now set what I call baseline goals. Baseline goals are super small, completely achievable objectives. They are daily or weekly practices that have compounding impact when practiced consistently over years. Simply put, baseline goals are the smallest possible thing you can commit to that will support your well-being.

    Instead of an overwhelming big picture, you create a concrete short-term focus.

    Instead of a lengthy, high-intensity fitness routine or a stretch goal (let’s train for a marathon!), the baseline goal is fifteen minutes or more of movement six days a week. Walking counts. Slow yoga counts. Dancing in the living room definitely counts. I can do fifteen minutes.

    Instead of kicking off a complex transformation project (let’s reinvent how we interact with our customers!), the baseline goal is each morning to determine the biggest priority for the day, and the absolute minimum action that needs to be taken. Then do that thing first. I can figure out one priority. I can do one thing.

    It turns out that when you’re super clear on your minimums, it frees up a lot of the capacity used up by trying to do it all. It releases the guilt from impossibly high standards.

    Lesson 2: Separate your future problems from your current problems.

    It has become almost a mantra for me to say, “That’s not a problem I need to solve today.” There are SO. MANY. PROBLEMS. So many decisions to make.

    I had to learn to be discerning about which problems I needed to tackle now and acknowledge that there were many I didn’t have enough information to figure out, so it made no difference to think about them.

    When my sister and I moved my mother into an assisted living community, our minds were invaded by the “what ifs,” and “what will we do when?”.

    “What if she needs more care than they can give?”, “What if we can’t support the costs?”, “What if we need to move her again?”, “What if they close the borders?”, “What if they disallow visitors?”.

    We started asking ourselves, “What problems do we need to solve right now?”.

    The only problem we needed to solve was immediate care and needs. We didn’t need to know the future. We could respond to new needs as they emerged.

    It’s clearly not a healthy long-term behavior to ignore the future, but in crisis, clarifying where action and decisions are needed has been helpful in deescalating anxiety.

    Lesson 3: Self-compassion is the new black.

    There are many days when I feel like I’m failing in every dimension. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I am racked with guilt and self-criticism because I’m not somewhere else, doing more.

    Self-compassion is when we give ourselves the same kindness we’d extend to a good friend. When the guilt comes (and I haven’t yet figured out how to keep it at bay), and the self-critical talk starts, I pretend I’m talking to a dear friend. I’m doing my best. That’s all I can do.

    Lesson 4: Embrace the suck.

    It’s easy to become overwhelmed. To let my thoughts spiral into fear, worrying about the future in anticipation of what’s to come. I’ve now come to realize that when I do this, I am borrowing problems from the future. I am suffering in anticipation of things that may or may not come to pass.

    All I have to do is be here, now. That’s all. I don’t need to live the future yet; I just need to live the present.

    Jon Kabat-Zinn said, “Give yourself permission to allow this moment to be exactly as it is, and allow yourself to be exactly as you are.”

    And right now, there are many moments that are difficult and painful. And I am often sad, depleted, and upset. That’s okay.

    I can’t skip the hard parts; I have to experience them. And only by experiencing the most excruciating parts can I also fully experience the joyful moments.

    You only ever have to deal with the moment you’re in right now. We can do hard things.

  • How One Fleeting Mindful Minute Completely Changed My Life

    How One Fleeting Mindful Minute Completely Changed My Life

    “Don’t believe everything you think.” ~Unknown

    I am a self-confessed overthinker. I could spend hours thinking and going down the rabbit hole in my mind trying to find answers to all sorts of situations.

    About ten years ago, I struggled with burnout. I was a nurse for about twenty-two years. All I knew was nursing, and I was defined by it. As they say, “A nurse is always a nurse.”

    This makes leaving nursing something hard to do, even when it’s unhealthy.

    I’ve always worked in high-stress areas like intensive care and trauma emergency rooms, but burnout made it impossible to be there physically and mentally. It is sad to say, but at that point, I had no compassion to give.

    I was physically drained, couldn’t focus, crying all the time, and the anxiety of it all was unbearable. I needed to know why this happened and what I did wrong. Hence, the overthinking that came with it all.

    Before all this, I was a goal-setting planner person. At that time the only thing I could plan was where to sit on the couch to ponder.

    I literally sat around analyzing my life, which only brought more regret, blame, and despair.

    At this point, I also lost my spirituality, which made it much worse.

    The sad part about burnout is you don’t realize you are in it until it’s usually too late, so you tend to go back into jobs you know, and for me that was the high-stress environments. I did what I knew, not what I should do.

    I failed again.

    This was about the fifth job I left because of the burnout, and now money was dwindling. I remember driving over a four-lane bridge from yet another failed opportunity, thinking my bridge to cross was bigger.

    In my case, I couldn’t see the water’s edge or future on the other side.

    What was the point?

    Devastated, I stopped working altogether, using my savings to get by.

    I would sit on the couch “strategizing,” which meant overthink everything for hours.

    Regrets, dreams lost, future uncertain, bad career decisions swirled in my head. Then I would plan my future with unrealistic goals from the comforts of my couch and blanket.

    I even pondered my navel hoping a Divine source would help me.

    Around that time, someone told me I needed to get out of my head and become mindful.

    This is when the amazing minute would soon come in.

    Mindfulness seemed elusive, and of course, it was something I had to analyze.

    I was far from mindful. Watching thoughts meant more things to think about. I was trying to find mindfulness and bring it back to my couch.

    Until one day…

    I finally got off the couch and went for a walk. I sat down by a stream, and before I knew it, I was completely present for about a minute watching this little leaf.

    It turned and twisted as it floated down the stream. It wasn’t struggling like I was. It was letting the flow of the water carry it where it needed to go. If it bumped into a rock, it would twist away. if it got stuck, it would become unstuck by the water’s gentle movement.

    This little leaf had no resistance to what was happening.

    At that moment everything clicked. I felt spaciousness as this sense of peace washed over me.

    This was presence.

    Letting go of the struggle. Letting go of the thoughts that held me in my past.

    This was a powerful experience. For a minute.

    It was fleeting.

    I kept going back and forth between overthinking and being mindful.

    I wasn’t going with the flow; instead, I was fighting it, trying to control the direction of the stream.

    I then realized a few important things…

    I could be grateful for the small moments of mindfulness. Five seconds or a minute were precious.

    I needed to stop trying to hold onto mindfulness. It wasn’t something tangible that I could hold, grab, or pull within me. It was already there, waiting for me to let go of my resistance to it.

    I learned being mindful could happen anytime and anywhere. It didn’t have to be a big thing. I could be mindful of washing my hands, petting my cat, or listening to a car go by.

    These simple things started to take on a greater meaning.

    But it was still fleeting. Until I finally stopped analyzing mindfulness.

    I was trying to create the experience of being mindful, except I was experiencing it from a memory perspective, and then I would look forward to the next experience in my future.

    At that point I realized, fleeting was okay.

    The present moment will always be fleeting as it’s a point of time between the past and the future. To stay in the present is to stay in the now without the worry of before or after.

    I now look at all my thoughts as a stream of consciousness that, like the leaf, I can float upon as I remain in a state of calm. There is no struggle here. No resistance. Just a sense of now.

    Over the next two years, my burnout went away, my overthinking and anxiety decreased, and I was able to go back into nursing.

    This time, I started off slow, working in a small nursing home, doing home care, and then eventually I went back into a hospital setting, albeit a non-stressful environment.

    I finally found peace and contentment in the simple things, and I was able to bring my tiny present moments with my patients and coworkers. I finally enjoyed my career for the first time in a long time.

    Mindfulness is a big part of my life, and I’m grateful for the lessons this situation has given to me. Without it I would have never had my mindful minute that changed my life.

    I now appreciate going with the flow, because I have become that tiny leave who navigates down the stream of life, one mindful minute at a time.

    Fleeting or not, it’s perfect the way it is.

  • How Overthinking Ruined my Relationships and How I Overcame It

    How Overthinking Ruined my Relationships and How I Overcame It

    “Overthinking ruins you. It ruins the situation. And it twists things around. It makes you worry. Plus, it just makes everything worse than it actually is.” ~Karen Salmansohn

    I grew up with parents who believed a kid shouldn’t have friends and should be indoors always. Because of that, I never had real friends in my childhood, except those I met in school and church.

    Since my early teenage years, loneliness has been my forte, and I have learned to pay too much attention to details. When people talk, I look at them, how they react, their facial expressions, etc. I try to draw out details from the tiniest cues and put a lot of thought in them.

    Conversations, of course, are meant to be enjoyed; however, for me, that isn’t the case. During a discussion, I think of a million ways it could go wrong. I wonder what I’ll say next after I get a reply. And a slight change in a listener’s facial expressions makes me think I’m bothering them—they dislike me, I’m boring, I need to stop talking.

    Having real friends has been difficult for me. I find it challenging to maintain a friendship for long. When I meet with someone for the first time and we both “connect,” I start fantasizing about how we might become everyday gist mates, lifetime buddies, and even in a romantic relationship (for ladies).

    Sometimes, I get tired and want to stop overthinking, but it always seems impossible. The tiniest of details always want to be thought of and processed. And instead of taking action on what I think, I continue thinking about it.

    So many opportunities have slipped through my fingers, making me not confident enough to take action. Except this one time I wanted to enroll in a writing competition. I tried every possible way to discourage myself from applying. I reminded myself of harsh critics and writing rejections I’ve faced in the past, but I never gave in to the voice. I tried to shut it up and applied for the competition—and I won.

    I don’t think I’ll ever fully stop overthinking. I’ve accepted it as a part of me I have to live with, but I’ve also made great progress in getting past it.

    If overthinking has affected your confidence and held you back as well, perhaps some of my techniques will help.

    1. Acknowledge that you’re overthinking.

    When overthinking starts ruining your mood or stops you from taking action, acknowledge it. Don’t beat yourself up or hate yourself for it.

    If you’re anxious to do something because you’ve been obsessing about it, acknowledge that you’re afraid. When we acknowledge something, our brain has a way of providing solutions for us.

    In fact, I started making real progress when I accepted myself as a big overthinker and this helped me love and accept myself instead of hating myself.

    2. Declutter your mind regularly.

    Decluttering your brain is the key to having a settled mind. You could speak to someone—it helps—or write down every thought running through your mind (my favorite technique to calm my mind).

    If, for instance, someone offends you and you can’t get it off your mind, talk to them about it. If you’re obsessing about an interaction with someone you can’t talk to, journal about it. The goal is always to take action whenever possible instead of ruminating on things that are bothering or worrying you.

    3. Don’t expect too much from people.

    The truth is, people will disappoint you. And this will hurt you even more when you place high hopes on them.

    To be on the safer side, don’t place so many expectations on people. People change; things happen, and people go back on their words.

    If you expect that people will disappoint you sometimes, you’ll be less likely to overthink things when they do. Instead of wondering why it happened and if you did anything to contribute to the situation, or if you should have done something differently, you’ll simply accept that people often don’t keep their promises, and you don’t need to take it personally.

    4. Work on developing self-confidence.

    Most times, overthinking is caused by a lack of self-confidence.

    There were times when I found it hard to connect with people. I believed I was a boring conversationalist, so whenever I was talking with someone, I’d always try hard to prove my belief wrong—sometimes unnaturally—to keep a pointless conversation going when I could end it.

    If you aren’t confident in what you bring to the table, you will always overthink your way into believing it’s always your fault if a conversation or something doesn’t go as expected. So instead of telling yourself that you’re lacking in some way, work on believing in your worth, and this will help you question yourself less in difficult situations.

    5. Know when to take a break.

    During a stressful day, it’s normal to have a lot running through your mind.

    Whenever you start worrying about mistakes you’ve made with other people or find the thoughts in your head feel overwhelming, take a break. Take nap, take a walk, practice deep breathing, or do an activity you enjoy to help you get out of your head.

    6. Resist the urge to impress people.

    Most overthinkers have a strong urge to impress and please other people. When in a conversation, they may carefully pick their words, and then obsess about whether they’ve said anything stupid or wrong.

    That said, a friendship based on trying to impress or please another person will be one-sided and may not last.

    People don’t want to feel like they’re being worshipped in a friendship. They want to know the real you—both the exciting and boring parts of you—so it turns them off when you make a conversation about them alone.

    When talking with people, say what you mean in the way you want to say it and trust that the right people won’t pick apart everything you say and will actually appreciate you for being you.

    7. Accept that you can’t be friends with everyone.

    Even as you try to make friends, you should know that not everyone will like you.

    You may try hard to make someone acknowledge you and be friends, but you won’t click with everyone, and you don’t have to overthink it.

    You aren’t meant for everyone, so if someone disrespects or ignores you, it isn’t your fault. You have to find people who like you and let go of the ones who don’t.

    8. Enjoy the moment and try not to think about tomorrow.

    In all you do, make sure you’re present in it. You can’t be in two places at the same time. In the same way, you can’t expect to enjoy the present if you worry too much about the past and future.

    Make it a rule to always be in the moment, focusing on the people right in front of you. If you let yourself be fully in the moment with them, you’ll worry a lot less about what they’re thinking of you (and about everything else, for that matter).

    —

    Ever since I started practicing all I mentioned above, I’ve been happier in life than ever before. Making friends with people and holding conversations has become much easier for me.

    I failed many times when trying to rewire my brain, but I never gave in. I made the end goal, to make good friends and enjoy life as much as possible, my mantra. Now I overthink a lot less and connect with people more, and I believe you can do it, too!

  • 45 Work Self-Care Ideas for Your Physical, Emotional, and Mental Health

    45 Work Self-Care Ideas for Your Physical, Emotional, and Mental Health

    “Self-care equals success. You’re going to be more successful if you take care of yourself and you’re healthy.” ~Beth Behrs

    Does your job ever seem to take over your life?

    Mine has, more than once, despite some drastic changes to stop it each time.

    For twelve years I worked a sixty-hour-a-week consulting job in London, UK. I loved my team, and much of my work, but I wasn’t good at switching off.

    Whiplash from a minor car accident initiated a chronic pain condition that grew worse and worse with each passing day.

    I didn’t think I was allowed to take care of myself at work. At work, I felt my focus should be on being productive, getting more done, being the best, getting promoted, earning more—on success.

    But my definition of success wasn’t bringing me happiness.

    Breaking Point(s)

    The moment when my chronic pain was such agony that I spent an entire conversation with a beloved team member holding back tears, not hearing anything they said, was a wake-up call.

    I told myself what a bad manager I was, piling negative feelings on in addition to the grinding, constant physical hurt.

    I created suffering on top of the pain.

    After a lot of soul searching, I took a sabbatical where I planned to “lie on a beach and rest.”

    But I took my personality with me. I never went back to my job, but within a few years, I’d created a new life, that I also loved, but I worked in 25 countries and took 100 flights a year.

    Oh, and I caught strep throat seven times in that same year.

    This time, when I realized what was happening, my suffering was a little less. I was frustrated, but at this point, I had developed a self-care practice. I had more tools, more self-kindness, more self-compassion.

    Last year, another busy year when I wrote a book about work wellness and ran an international consulting practice, I went to the emergency room several times.

    What I thought was my chronic pain had gotten so bad I admitted I needed help.

    At the hospital, they decided to do exploratory surgery. And found endometritis, which had caused a 6cmx4cm cyst and spread infection throughout my abdomen. It took the removal of the cyst and a further eight days of intravenous antibiotics before they’d send me home.

    I took some time off….

    Now while I can’t say I’m never going to go through this loop again, what these experiences have taught me is that in order to be the best version of ourselves, it’s as critical to take care of ourselves at work as is it as at home.

    It’s not just okay to take care of yourself at work, it’s obligatory.

    Despite the fact our job often takes up a third of our waking hours or more, most of us feel it’s inappropriate to think about ‘fluffy’ concepts like work wellness, or self-care, while we’re working.

    We’re wrong.

    If we neglect habits of kindness to ourselves in this arena, our thoughts, feelings, and behaviors at work can lead to burnout, resentment, anger, or exhaustion.

    Be Intentional

    Bringing an attitude of self-kindness and self-compassion to work is likely to make you a better employee. You’ll have more energy to work with the difficult customers and challenging employees, or on the complex and confusing tasks that are dumped on you.

    The following are ideas you can try at work to ensure you nourish yourself in that context. They are designed to be small and inexpensive. Leave those that don’t speak to you, but make the choice to include several in each week—and start today.

    Simple Self-Care for Physical Work Wellness

    1. Clean your tech mindfully. Take three minutes to wipe down your phone, laptop, screen, anything technological you use for work. As you do, be grateful for what these technologies add to your life.

    2. Sit up straight. We all have a tendency to slump over our keyboards. Adjust your posture: pull your shoulders back and align your head with your spine.

    3. Take one deep breath. Just one. But make it a good, long one. Breathe out and imagine that breath flushing through your body and going into the earth to ground you.

    4. Plot a route. Plan a short (20-minute) easy walk you can take at lunch or during breaks at least twice a week. Put it in your diary.

    5. Stand up. Use a box or books to lift your keyboard and screen so you can stand up to work. Vary your position during the day between standing and sitting.

    6. Scents memory. Find an essential oil or item that you can smell at your desk to energise you, like mint or citrus—especially useful in that post-lunch slump.

    7. Light up. Ensure your lighting is sufficient and as natural as possible, and your screen is at an appropriate brightness.

    8. Step up. Take the stairs. If you work on the 30th floor, you don’t have to take every flight. Try one flight for a week, then add in more over time.

    9. Add color. Wear one small item of your favourite color to work. A tie, pantyhose, socks, cufflinks, lipstick, a hairband, a necklace, earrings, bag etc.

    10. Pre-plan health. Identify three healthy meals at your three most-visited lunch places. At least once a week, don’t even look at the menu, order one of those.

    11. See green. Spend a few minutes a day looking at something green and alive. If you can’t see out of a window, get a plant.

    12. Return to neutral. At the end of the day take two minutes to tidy clutter away and wipe the surface down. This will make the next morning a nicer experience.

    13. Stretch while sitting. Roll your shoulders back, straighten each leg and point your toes, lift your arms above your head, and point your fingers to the sky. Move your body for a few seconds in a way that feels good.

    14. 20:20:20. Every 20 minutes, look at something for 20 seconds, 20 feet away, to help prevent eye strain.

    15. Object of solace. Bring to work an item that brings you physical comfort. A soft sweater, a smooth pebble, a stress ball—anything that grounds you in your senses and can bring you secret consolation on a difficult day.

    Simple Self-Care for Emotional Work Wellness

    16. Choose a soundtrack. Find a song that energises you, and play it just before you start work (on headphones!) or on your commute to put you in the right mood.

    17. Focus on others. When you interact with colleagues (or suppliers, clients, other freelancers) ask them a couple of questions about themselves before you talk about you.

    18. Be vulnerable. Share something small about your personal life—a hope, fear, dream, wish, desire—with a work colleague. Ask them about theirs.

    19. Build connection. Ask someone new to lunch or for a coffee.

    20. Take notice. Say happy birthday or congratulate someone on something they achieved on one of their tasks or projects.

    21. Know your personal brand. Write down the five words (qualities, behaviors, knowledge, etc.) others are most likely to associate with you at work.

    22. Push through a small emotional discomfort. Take an action you find mildly uncomfortable—talking more in a meeting, talking less, sharing a mistake etc. It will then be easier to do later when you don’t have a choice.

    23. Deepen a workplace relationship. Identify someone at work you want to know better. Increase the quality and quantity of your interactions.

    24. Connect to a positive memory. Choose a physical item to go on your desk that uplifts you because of its associations (e.g., a foreign coin from a holiday, a special photo).

    25. Celebrate. Take a moment to celebrate (privately or with colleagues) a small work win before you rush on to the next task.

    26. Create a workplace tradition. Connect colleagues with “Pizza Friday/; or “morning-coffee-and-catch-up,” even if it’s through Zoom.

    27. Look forward. Always have something at work you’re looking forward to. Create that thing yourself, if necessary.

    28. Build a positive attitude. Think of three things that make work great for you (a friend, a project, a client, a café you visit in your lunch hour), and write a list of these over time. Include one in each week.

    29. Take the long view. When upset about a mistake you made, or something that happened, ask yourself, will this still matter to me in five years?

    30.What matters? Take a helicopter view, and think about—what do I gain from this job? What does it bring me? Is there a balance between the rewards and the work?

    Simple Self-Care for Mental Work Wellness

    31. Use physical boundaries. Help your brain switch off via “thresholding” at the bookends of your day. Step through the door that leads into your workspace and tell yourself “I am at work’ “Step out of your workspace and tell yourself “I have left work.”

    32. Find your values. Write down the things that are important to you at work and circle the top three to four. Use these to guide decisions.

    33. Get feedback. Ask five people who know you well what they see as your top three strengths and development areas.

    34. Improve one thing. Choose a behavior that is not working for you and experiment with doing it differently.

    35. Have a walking meeting. Ask a colleague with whom you have a meeting planned if you can do this while outside and moving.

    36. Get unstuck. When working on a creative challenge, set a timer and free write for five minutes on the problem.

    37. Expand your perspective. Ask a colleague to talk you through how they approach a common issue you both experience.

    38. Use a timer. Choose a task you do regularly where you know roughly how long it takes, and set a timer for 10% less than that. Complete the task in less time.

    39. Learn something. Listen to a podcast, read a blog article or several pages of a non-fiction book at the start or end of your day.

    40. Know where you’re going. Pick a small career goal and write down three actions that would get you closer to it. Complete one action.

    41. Be curious. Always have something you’re learning or developing relevant to your work—a book, course, discussions, professional development etc.

    42. Distance self-talk. Create some objectivity in your thoughts by talking to yourself using your name, or second or third person.

    43. Make a “small pleasures at work” list. Write down the smallest behaviours (e.g., smile at a friend) you can do that bring you joy in the workplace. Include one in every day.

    44. Determine a downer. What one activity do you find most draining at work? What small action can you take to make that activity just a fraction easier for yourself?

    45. Enjoy the process as much as the outcome. Achieving a goal can bring delight, but the journey to get there is likely to take longer, so find ways to make the process just as enjoyable.

    We Are What We Do Every Day

    In the end, the actions we do most often are those that make up who we are.

    If we’re going to be our best self, we need to keep self-compassion and self-care in mind at work as well as outside it.

    Treat your work as an integral piece of who you are as a whole.

    Break out of your loop. Pay attention to your work wellness.

    Pick one of the ideas and try it today.

    —

    **Ellen has generously offered five copies of her new book, Your Work Wellness Toolkit: Mindset Tips, Journaling, and Rituals to Help You Thrive at Work, to Tiny Buddha readers. Offering 100 simple and super-effective exercises, Your Work Wellness Toolkit is a practical guide to nurturing yourself at work so you can feel calmer, more productive, and more energized, every day.

    To enter to win a copy, leave a comment below sharing which self-care exercise above resonated with you most strongly, then email the link to your comment to Ellen at ellen@ellenbard.com with “Tiny Buddha Giveaway” in the subject line.

    You can enter until midnight PST on Friday, February 18th. She’ll choose the winners at random and contact them soon after! 

  • How Single-Tasking Can Decrease Your Stress and Improve Your Mood

    How Single-Tasking Can Decrease Your Stress and Improve Your Mood

    “The shortest way to do many things is to do only one thing at once.” ~Samuel Smiles

    I am a recovering multitasker.

    I’m sure you know what multitasking is—it is the performance of more than one task at a time. For me it can look like this: “Watching TV” might include scanning social media on my phone, playing a game on my laptop, and/or doing some knitting or embroidery. Sometimes I switch back and forth between all of those things.

    “Writing a blog post” might include doing a load of laundry, including moving it from washer to dryer, or folding it. It might also include research, social media, fixing a snack or meal, checking email, texting my kids, and more.

    I not only used to multitask my way through each day, but I also used to pride myself on it. I would run multiple errands while making phone calls to schedule appointments, which meant I had to open the calendar on my phone as well. I’d cook dinner while scrolling social media while listening to the evening news, while also writing a grocery list.

    “I am so productive,” I’d think. “Just look at all the things I am doing.”

    Only I’d forget to move the clothes from the washer to the dryer, so they sat overnight and started to smell funky. Or I’d forget one of the most important parts of an errand or a phone call. Or I’d get distracted by reading something on my phone and the onions I was meant to be browning would burn.

    Asking your conscious mind to do multiple things at once is more difficult. The human brain can’t do all that many things simultaneously. It’s good at the stuff controlled by the autonomic nervous system—keep breathing, keep the blood flowing, etc.

    Essentially what happens when you multitask is that your brain toggles rapidly between two or more tasks. The more you try to do things simultaneously, the more likely it is that something will be lost or dropped as your brain tries to switch focus.

    If you’ve ever tried something like listening to the weather forecast for tomorrow while reading an email, it’s not uncommon to realize you missed tomorrow’s weather because you were reading and not listening, or you have to go back to re-read some or all of the email because you were listening and not reading.

    When trying to process two different types of information—say, an in-person conversation while watching a television show—things get messier. Maybe you lose track of the show and what’s going on, or you lose track of the story that the person in the room with you is sharing. Maybe it’s a bit of both.

    The same goes for switching tasks at work, about which there are many, many articles. It’s not unheard of to be writing an email or memo, but be interrupted by phone calls, people stopping by your desk, and other emails or texts. Every single interruption requires you to switch your focus, then return to the writing.

    Each time you switch your focus, whether it’s due to an interruption or multitasking, it takes your brain time to reorient itself and get back on task. It can take seconds sometimes, but often requires minutes. The more you switch tasks, however briefly, the more time you spend getting back on track.

    Multitasking can reduce your productivity by as much as 40% according to an article in Forbes. It’s not efficient, either in time or output levels.

    But that’s not the real danger. Multitasking is not good for your brain processes or mental health. It can lead to increased frustration, irritability, and stress.

    Studies show that media multitasking in particular, such as scrolling social media while watching something on a separate screen, or switching between social media sites, can lead to social anxiety and even depression.

    The more we “multitask,” or switch between tasks, the more we distract ourselves and interrupt our thought processes. It can cause us to become anxious, as we worry that time is slipping away from us.

    In November of 2021, faced with an ongoing pandemic in the world and a sudden bout of fatigue at home due to my autoimmune issues, I began to try to single-task as much as possible.

    My thought process, having read all sorts of articles on brain health and multitasking, was that maybe it would be better if I didn’t ask quite so much from my brain. Due to fatigue, my thinking was often fuzzy or foggy to begin, so I reasoned that focusing on one thing at a time might feel like self-kindness. It yielded some interesting results.

    I was right about single-tasking being kinder to myself. If I only expected myself to do one thing at a time, it was easier to focus and to see the task through. I applied single-tasking to rest, as well as to household chores and work.

    I found that single-tasking allowed me to pay more attention to whatever I was doing. If I was writing a blog post, I was able to write it more quickly by “just writing” than when I was writing the post, jumping to create graphics for it, coming back to write more, hopping to a different site to do some research, then returning to write some more, etc.

    Single-tasking also led to me breaking complex tasks into smaller, more manageable pieces, each of which got their own allotted time. So I would come up with an idea, then research it. Write the blog post, then go create the graphics I needed. And so on.

    On the one hand, I was doing all the usual tasks needed to create a blog post, only instead of multitasking by hopping between them, I did them one at a time. I was shocked when I found that I saved as much as an hour of my time by compartmentalizing those components, then single-tasking.

    In addition, I realized that when I focused on one task at a time, I gained the sense of satisfaction at being able to actually complete my projects. I felt more accomplished. And if I had to take a break, it was much easier to see where I needed to pick things back up.

    Instead of having five open, “in progress” items on my to-do list, I had one at a time. There is tremendous satisfaction in crossing things off the list and moving on. On days when my fatigue was particularly bad, I was also more likely to tackle something when I knew it was a smaller piece that could be completed quickly.

    In addition to feeling more productive, my overall stress levels fell. I was able to see daily progress, and celebrate it. I started to get a better handle on how much I was capable of realistically accomplishing.

    It felt so much easier, especially once I worked out that I would get as many—or more—tasks done in a day by single-tasking as I did when I multitasked. By focusing on one task at a time, I cut down on how many times I interrupted myself with additional items. I found that I often finished sooner, giving me more free time and breaks between tasks.

    These days, I try hard to move to single-task whenever I possibly can. To do one thing at a time, or focus on one task at a time, rather than trying to accomplish multiple things at once.

    Some days, that is easier than others to accomplish. But always I find that when I succeed, my stress levels decrease. My ability to focus and finish things increases.

    And just as the studies report, the amount of stuff I get done actually increases, too.

    Here are some tips to help you try this for yourself:

    1. Put your cellphone on silent when you are trying to do computer work.

    2. Use a social media blocker app such as Freedom if you need to. It allows you to set time limits on your usage, and to prevent you from “just checking one thing,” only to get sucked down a rabbit hole.

    3. Create a to-do list for yourself each day with no more than three priorities on it. Tackle them in order, one at a time. Once they are done, you can relax your boundaries if you want, or continue on to another task.

    4. Set a timer to focus on a task. Allow yourself a break, or even to be done with that task for the day, when the timer goes off.

    5. Challenge yourself to put your phone and laptop away when watching a movie or television show, allowing yourself to focus only on what it is you are watching.

    6. Set up a reward system for yourself to encourage single-tasking behavior.

    7. Don’t get upset or throw in the towel if you “catch” yourself multi-tasking. It took you a long time to develop that habit, and it will take a while to unlearn it.

    As I said at the start of this post, I am a recovering multi-tasker, so I don’t yet have this all down pat. If you need me, I’ll be over here practicing how to focus on just one thing at a time.

  • Where Are You Right Now? The Importance of Living in the Present

    Where Are You Right Now? The Importance of Living in the Present

    “The more you are focused on time—past and future—the more you miss the Now, the most precious thing there is.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    Where are you right now?

    Maybe you are at your desk, scrolling through emails, trying to put off the morning’s work in hopes that it will go away if you don’t acknowledge it.

    Maybe you are in your favorite chair with a cup of cheap coffee, enjoying the final moments of morning light.

    Maybe you are walking through your school or office building trying to hurriedly read this from your phone before you bump into someone.

    Wherever you find yourself sitting, or standing, or walking right now, I want to ask you another question:

    Are you really there?

    Where are you right now? Really?

    So much about life in our culture right now has become about the next thing. The next project. The next promotion. The next vacation. The next experience. We’ve become obsessed with growth as it pertains to results, achievement, and living a respected, successful life.

    We’ve forgotten how to be here… now.

    We’ve forgotten about being present.

    Right now, I am sitting on my couch writing this because I wanted to be in the same room as my wife rather than locked away in my office this morning. I am listening to cello music through one earbud in my right ear. I am typing on a writing software that I love, but it doesn’t seem to love my seven-year-old Macbook, so it keeps crashing.

    But earlier this morning, one of my favorite podcasters, Emily P Freeman, posed this question.

    “Where are you?”

    And before I could say, “In the shower after my morning run,” my inner voice (the annoyingly honest one) said:

    “You are ten years in the future.

    You are hoping that you have a thriving business and people who actually listen to you.

    You are looking forward to having the freedom to travel or just spend more time with people you love.

    You are NOT being present, right here, right now, in this shower.

    You are a thousand steps ahead because you want the prize without the work.

    You want the destination without the journey.

    You want the dream without the slow, steady, sometimes frustrating routine.

    You spend all your energy living in the future rather than being present in the moment, so even if/when you get there, you won’t be there either.

    You are always ten years in the future.”

    This is true of me.

    Most of my life I am either ten years in the future, where all my dreams have come true, I do know what I’m talking about, I have proven that I am not an imposter, and other people do kind of listen to me…

    …or I am ten years in the past, finishing up college, learning to be a leader, excited to get married but still free to play sand volleyball any time of the week with my numerous fun friends who are equally free of jam-packed schedules or children.

    If I’m not in one of these two places in my head, then I am typically overwhelmed by one or both of them.

    Overwhelmed by the reality of where I am right now and feeling the guilt and shame that comes with thinking:

    “You should be more than you are by now.”

    That’s the killer right there.

    The idea that I should be MORE.

    MORE successful.

    MORE impactful.

    MORE authentic.

    MORE friendly.

    MORE daring.

    MORE frugal.

    BETTER with my money…of which I have MORE.

    MORE traveled.

    MORE disciplined.

    More more more more more.

    That’s where I am most of the time—ashamed that I am not more.

    So I hide.

    I hide behind anger at my boss for his demanding attitude.

    I hide behind consuming entertainment so that I don’t have to create.

    I hide behind junk food that makes me feel less hopeless… until it hits my waistline.

    I hide. Because hiding is easier than feeling the pain, and it’s much easier than having grace for where I am.

    One day, when I was struggling with feeling like I was way behind where I should be, I went to the bathroom. While washing my hands, I looked at the face of the guy looking back at me in the mirror and literally thought:

    “I’d rather have the fun, deep, authentic Kurtis from college, or the wise, disciplined, successful Kurtis of the future. I would take any Kurtis but the one I’ve got.”

    How’s that for sad realizations?

    So let me ask you again: Where are you right now?

    Then let me interject my oh-so-wise advice.

    You know, one of those wise things everyone knows and says but never take their own advice on. Yeah, that kind of advice.

    Where you are today is the most important place you can be.

    That’s right.

    Being present to where you are RIGHT NOW.

    Not where you’ve been.

    Not where you wanted to be.

    Not where you still hope to be one day.

    This moment, in this place, on this couch, in this town, with these people in the midst of these circumstances.

    This is your moment.

    This is the moment that makes you.

    What good is being more successful, more disciplined, more respected, more affluent, or more traveled if anywhere you go you don’t know how to actually BE THERE? To fully feel? To completely live that experience in that space in time?

    What good is it if you cannot breathe in the life that is all around you?

    I have had better moments in my dusty, boring little town of Lubbock, Texas than many have had atop a mountain in Nepal, or on the streets of Venice, or in the seat of a chartered plane, or backstage at a concert.

    I have lived more on my back porch with my dog and the morning light than most people will ever experience by constantly chasing this idea of MORE.

    And the only reason I have been able to embrace these everyday moments and feel alive, if only for a brief time, is because I have worked hard to drop my illusions of more, and practiced being present right here where I am right now.

    Time for more advice. Are you ready?

    Everything in life takes learning, practice, and repetition.

    Learning means looking like an idiot to learn the basics.

    Learning a language means making mistakes and sounding like a three-year-old.

    It means practicing with people better than you.

    It means repeating “The library is at the center of the city” over and over and over and over again.

    And then again.

    Learning to play the cello means plucking the strings for months when you would rather use your bow.

    It means playing “Hot Cross Buns” till you hear it in your dreams.

    It means repeating four notes of music over and over and over and over again until your fingers seem to play it on their own.

    Learning to be a parent, or a friend, or a spouse means making mistakes, asking for forgiveness, trying it differently, then rinsing and repeating that same cycle a million times until you have a mild understanding of how to truly serve this person with your life… and they do the same for you.

    Being present to this moment is no different.

    It takes learning.

    It takes practice and making mistakes.

    It takes disciplined repetition until it almost becomes second nature.

    So where do we start?

    I started with five minutes on a park bench.

    I got to a place where there wasn’t anything asking for my attention.

    No kids needing to be entertained.

    No homework to half-ass.

    No floors to clean or dishes to put away.

    No friends or fun activities to distract me.

    I put my phone on Do Not Disturb, which meant no texts, no calls, and no notifications, and I set my timer for five minutes.

    For those five minutes—which felt like an hour—I sat in complete silence.

    Some of the time I closed my eyes, some of it I watched the grass, the birds, or the water.

    But for the whole five minutes, I did not try to solve a problem, plan ahead, strategize, or prepare myself for anything to come.

    For five minutes, I simply sat and breathed.

    It was very difficult and it was beautiful.

    Do this every day—or multiple times a day if you’re really brave—for at least one week, and you will find yourself less stressed, more focused, and more productive, all because you have started being here.

    This is the best place to start.

    Being here may be one of the hardest things I’ve worked to do in my life. At times it requires us to hold great joy and great pain in the same hand. It sometimes feels like it might pull us apart or drown us in the reality of our struggles.

    But when done regularly, when handled with great care and grace and patience for the process, it is one of the most freeing parts of the journey that I could ever recommend.

    Where you are right now is not perfect. It may not be ideal. But it is your reality.

    And if we don’t start with reality, if we can’t handle this moment with grace, we have no real hope for the future.

    So I’ll ask you again, my friend: Where are you right now?

  • How Shifting Your Attention Can Be the Cure for Anxiety

    How Shifting Your Attention Can Be the Cure for Anxiety

    “Anxiety was born in the very same moment as mankind. And since we will never be able to master it, we will have to learn to live with it—just as we have learned to live with storms.” ~Paulo Coelho

    “Am I focusing too much on my anxiety?”

    This very question weighed heavily on my mind as I found myself in yet another bout of anxiety. I was playing professional baseball at the time, and I just couldn’t seem to free myself from the constant and unending worrisome thoughts racing through my head.

    A lot of these thoughts centered around how I would perform the next game. What my teammates were thinking of me, whether they saw me as a valuable part of the team. I often thought about why I was playing baseball and if I was wasting my time.

    All of these worries did nothing but lead to further thoughts, centering around much of the same, leading to a terrible cycle.

    This was not the first time I realized the presence of anxiety in my life. It has been something I’ve dealt with for as long as I can remember.

    In college, I even worked with a sport psychologist who taught me coping mechanisms to alleviate the anxiety I felt surrounding baseball.

    We addressed my self-talk, with him generating a routine I could use the night before games. He also focused heavily on process goals. As focusing on the process, rather than the outcome, is a major way to reduce anxious thinking.

    After completing a master’s in psychology and beginning work as a mental performance coach, I felt as though I had a solid understanding of how to cope with anxiety. Why was it then that I once again found myself in its grasp?

    Well, the truth is, no matter how strong you build your mind and how much work you put in, anxiety will still find its way into your life. Some time or another, those pesky worrisome thoughts will enter your head.

    What matters is how long you allow those thoughts to stick around. And what’s interesting is, sometimes the more we try to rid ourselves of anxiety, the more we invite it to stay.

    That is the mistake I made, and why, after all my years of work and learning, I found myself faced with great difficulty.

    Energy Flows Where Attention Goes

    Have you ever heard this saying before?

    I’ve heard different interpretations of its meaning, but one I really resonate with is, wherever we place our attention will be amplified.

    This means the more we focus on our anxiety, the greater the strength we give it.

    So if we want to not feel anxious, one of the worst things we can do is try to not feel anxious.

    When I recognized I was giving my anxiety too much attention, I realized what needed to happen instead. The decision I made involved the same techniques I’m going to show you later in the article.

    For now, I want to address just a little bit about why we focus so much on anxiety in the first place.

    Can’t I Just Will It Away?

    I’m the first to admit to having fallen into this type of thinking in the past.

    Whenever I would grow overly anxious before a game or experience anxiety in my daily life (which was all too often), my natural response was to try and force the anxiety out.

    But that only worsened the problem. I remember feeling the anxiety actually grow within the more I tried to get it out.

    So why do we continue to believe we can rid ourselves of anxiety through focusing on it?

    The main reason is due to the fact we are anxious people in the first place. Do you know how hard it is to stop thinking about something? Especially when that which has captured your attention is as powerful an emotion as anxiety.

    So, one, the easiest option is to grow anxious over the anxiety, thus focusing on trying to will it away. Two, anxiety is a scary feeling. Having uncontrollable thoughts that lead to a dizzying feeling of dread is not fun.

    As a result, we try to get rid of it as quickly as we can. Removing our attention from the anxiety and trusting in some other technique does not feel as safe as simply focusing on how terribly we feel and hoping the anxiety will go away.

    But as I already said, giving too much attention to our anxiety only makes it worse. So, what can we do instead? The answer lies in attention, the shifting of attention that is.

    The Power of Shifting Your Attention

    Since we know where we place our attention is where our energy will be directed, a shift in focus can drastically improve our mental state.

    When I questioned whether I was focusing too much on my anxiety, it became clear to me that I was obsessing over why I experienced it, where it came from, and how I could get rid of it.

    So, I decided to make a switch and instead, give my attention to how I wanted to feel. This meant focusing on ways to feel confident, relaxed, and so on.

    Do you see the major difference? Understanding that everything is heightened based on how much attention we give it, you realize it’s only hurting you further to focus on what you don’t want.

    Once you accept the anxiety you feel, it’s now time to turn your attention onto how you wish to feel instead. Always focus on things in the affirmative rather than the negative. Pay attention to how you want to feel, not how you don’t want to feel.

    To become more relaxed and confident I employed the use of meditation and visualization.

    Using Meditation and Visualization to Train Focus

    I sit for mindfulness meditation twice a day and just relish in the moment.

    I have found the practice so powerful in training my mind to focus on the present moment. Not only has it taught me to give attention to feeling relaxed and calm, but the more present I am, the less anxiety I feel.

    That’s because anxiety, by definition, is a child of the future. To feel anxious means you are worried about what may happen or something not happening the way you wish.

    To practice mindfulness meditation, simply follow these steps:

    1. Get into a comfortable position with your back straight. I prefer sitting on my knees, but feel free to sit in a chair if that’s more comfortable.

    2. Set your timer. You do not want to be wondering if you’ve meditated long enough. Give yourself five to ten minutes if you’re a beginner. Choose a calming alarm, as you don’t want to be startled out of your mindful state.

    3. Close your eyes and begin breathing deeply and rhythmically. Focus on your breath and as your mind wanders, simply return your focus, without judgment. Thoughts will keep coming. The goal isn’t to stop them. It’s to allow and observe them, then let them pass.

    I also use mindfulness is during the day. Whenever I feel anxious, I’ll pause and take a few breaths to center myself in the present.

    I usually add some count breathing into this—breathing in for a count of five and out for ten.

    Visualization has been an equally powerful tool in training my mind to manage worrisome thoughts.

    After my meditation is complete and I’m relaxed, I visualize myself full of confidence, calm, and relaxed in different scenarios where I typically feel anxious.

    Once again, I am not seeing myself as not anxious, but rather as the way I wish to be.

    Usually, I’ll decide on one situation each day and visualize it in detail—what’s going on in my environment, who’s around me, what they’re doing. This allows me to mentally practice facing these situations with ease.

    Throughout the day, whenever I feel anxious, I bring this image back into my mind, reminding myself to operate off my ideal vision of myself rather than my past conditioning.

    These techniques have been tremendously helpful in shifting my attention off anxiety. And the less attention I give to feeling anxious, the less hold anxiety has on my life.

    If you are struggling with anxiety, I encourage you to ask yourself the same question I did, “Am I focusing too much on my anxiety?” You might be surprised by how your anxiety eases when you stop giving it so much attention.

  • A Natural Approach to Mental Health: How to Reduce Anxiety Through Gardening

    A Natural Approach to Mental Health: How to Reduce Anxiety Through Gardening

    “When the world feels like an emotional roller coaster, steady yourself with simple rituals. Do the dishes. Fold the laundry. Water the plants. Simplicity attracts wisdom.” ~Unknown

    I’ve suffered from anxiety since my childhood, but it was only seven years ago that I was formally diagnosed.

    My symptoms began to get worse after my long-term relationship ended and I felt like my world had collapsed around me.

    I was suffering from extreme fatigue, having trouble concentrating, not sleeping well, and I was constantly worrying.

    Over the next couple of years my mental health continued to deteriorate, and I had trouble finding the energy or motivation to get through the day.

    Eventually, I quit my high-stress government job and moved back to my hometown to live with my elderly mother.

    I was unemployed for the first time in my life, and I struggled to find a reason to get out of bed in the mornings.

    I was prescribed medication for my anxiety, but I suffered from weight gain and other side effects from the treatment.

    After seeing no improvement from the medication, I decided to try healing myself naturally.

    I sought advice from a variety of different practitioners including a naturopath, herbalist, and kinesiologist, which helped a bit, but I was still worrying excessively, having negative thoughts and occasional panic attacks.

    I’d read about the benefits of gardening for mental health, so one day I decided to tackle the overgrown mess in the corner of my mom’s backyard.

    At first the task seemed overwhelming, but I spent about fifteen to twenty minutes each day digging up weeds, and after a week it was looking like a proper garden again.

    I wasn’t an experienced gardener, so I did some research to find out which vegetables were the easiest to grow.

    I settled on lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, and zucchinis and I bought the seedlings from my local nursery.

    As well as the plants, I also installed a small bird bath so I could watch the birds while I was out in the garden.

    I really enjoyed watching the birds splashing around, so my next project was to make a bird feeder so I could attract more birds to the yard.

    Healing was a gradual process, and it took a few months before I noticed that my symptoms were improving.

    I was feeling calmer and more centered, and I wasn’t worrying about every little thing.

    The garden is now my sanctuary and the place where I feel the most peaceful.

    Gardening has many physical and mental health benefits including:

    Mindfulness

    When I’m out in the garden my mind is fully focused on the task at hand, so I’m not stressing about things from the past or what’s going on in my life at the time.

    I make an effort to appreciate and admire the beauty of the plants, and it’s really satisfying to watch them grow from tiny seedlings into mature plants.

    As well as vegetables, I’m now also growing herbs and a variety of different flowers, which are great for attracting bees and butterflies to the garden.

    Strength

    When my anxiety was at its worst, I had no energy or motivation to exercise. Even just doing the bare minimum tasks like showering and cooking left me drained.

    As I started spending more and more time in the garden, I noticed that my energy was improving and my body was getting stronger from all the bending, weeding, and digging I was doing.

    Sunshine

    Being out in the beautiful sunshine lifts my mood and it’s a great source of vitamin D, which can help to reduce the symptoms of anxiety and depression, while also boosting the immune system.

    Nutrition

    Being able to harvest beautiful fresh herbs and vegetables from my garden inspired me to try new, healthier recipes so I was eating better than I had in years.

    The crisp lettuce and juicy tomatoes straight from the garden were so much more flavorful than anything I’d tasted from the grocery store, and I’m sure they were much more nutritious as well.

    If you have the space in your backyard to create a little garden, I’d definitely recommend giving it a try.

    What if you don’t have a garden?

    Try container gardening.

    There are many different vegetables that can be grown in containers including radishes, peppers, lettuce, spinach, and other salad greens.

    Get some indoor plants.

    Indoor plants are great for bringing a touch of nature indoors, and there are lots of compact plants that are ideal for apartments like succulents, air plants, or African violets.

    If you have more space, you could try a peace lily, rubber plant, or prayer plant.

    Create a windowsill garden.

    If you have a nice, sunny windowsill you could start a small herb garden with parsley, chives, and thyme.

    Herbs are fast growing, easy to care for and great for adding flavor to your meals.

    Join a community garden.

    Community gardens are popping up all over the place in cities around the country, and they’re great for meeting likeminded people who can share their gardening experience with you.

    Spend time in nature.

    If you’re not a green thumb you can still get the benefits of plants by getting out in nature.

    Try going for a hike if you have trails nearby, take a walk around your local park, visit a botanical garden or read a book underneath a tree.

    Next time you feel stressed or anxious, try surrounding yourself with plants and see if it helps you to feel calmer.

    Whether it’s caring for a small house plant, creating a garden of your own, or simply spending more time in nature, your mental health will benefit from having plants around you.

    I hope this has inspired you to give gardening a try!

  • The Benefits of Solitude and How to Get the Most from Your Alone Time

    The Benefits of Solitude and How to Get the Most from Your Alone Time

    “Understand that healing and growing can distance you from people who you once had a bond with, and it can also bring you closer to those who will heal and grow with you. The time in between can be difficult, but there is so much to learn in solitude.” ~ @themoontarot

    There have been many occasions in my life where I’ve felt lonely. Some of these times I remember as incredibly painful; other times, I’ve relished in my solitude.

    During some periods, I’ve even forced myself into seclusion, which comes easily to me as an introvert.

    One thing all of these solo experiences have taught me is that it’s okay to be alone. In fact, with solitude, there’s a lot of self-growth to be had.

    In today’s day and age, we’re expected to be social creatures. With the rise of instant messaging and social media, it’s easy (and addicting) to stay connected all the time.

    This doesn’t mean it’s healthy, though. In fact, I’ve come to realize that solitude can be incredibly rewarding in a vast number of ways.

    The Benefits of Solitude

    Many nights of solitude have brought me epiphany moments. Ones where I have figured out what I actually want to do with my life. Ones where I’ve realized my spiritual path, and ones that have fueled new, exciting creative ideas.

    Many authors, artists, musicians, and philosophers have attributed their best work to time spent in solitude. As Aldous Huxley once said, “The more powerful and original a mind, the more it will incline towards the religion of solitude.”

    We need time alone because…

    1. We can gain a deeper sense of self-knowledge when we are alone and can see what is important for us as well as what we need.
    2. We are better able to acknowledge our feelings and deep desires when nothing external, such as other people’s thoughts, perceptions, or expectations, stands in our way.
    3. We get space to quietly reflect and reassess, asking ourselves the questions that truly matter.
    4. We recuperate and recharge (especially necessary for introverts) when alone, which allows us to be more present with others when socializing.
    5. We can tap into our intuition and learn to trust ourselves and our decision-making.

    By no means am I encouraging isolation. It’s not healthy to spend all our time alone.

    However, I do want to challenge those feelings of discomfort that often arise when thinking of solitude.

    Why Are So Many People Fearful of Solitude?

    There’s no denying that for some, the idea of spending a day alone, without interaction, isn’t appealing whatsoever. Why is this?

    Being busy, out and about with others, is a good distraction technique. When we’re surrounded by people, engaged in activity, we don’t face to face ourselves or our feelings.

    Are you the type of person who has to be on the phone with others when walking to the store? Or, perhaps you feel a strong sense of disconnection after a few hours of no in-person interaction. Either way, you’re not alone.

    Many people fear solitude because it’s unfamiliar. We don’t know what will happen when we finally face ourselves and are left alone with our thoughts and feelings, so we avoid it. But when we avoid being alone, we miss out on all the growth, healing, and creative inspiration that solitude can facilitate.

    So, how do we move away from a place of fear when thinking about solitude to embracing its possibilities?

    My Own Experience of Solitude

    As a child, I was often content spending time alone drawing, writing, reading, and exploring the great outdoors.

    During my school years I leaned into spending time with others, growing neglectful of my time with myself. The pressures of friendship groups, being sociable, and even ‘normal’ all took over my love for being alone.

    By the time I’d graduated from university and stepped into the working world, I was so accustomed to spending time surrounded by people, I barely knew who I was anymore.

    Coupled with confusion surrounding my career, a few failed relationships, and trauma from my childhood, I found myself in my mid-twenties reaching a pit of despair.

    Following a messy breakup after a toxic relationship, living back at my parents’ house with no money, no job, and no self-love, I was forced into solitude.

    I found myself alone in one of the darkest periods of my life, and it led to what I believed at the time to be an inescapable depression.

    Each morning I’d wake up and lock myself away in my parents’ spare bedroom. I had few friends in town since I’d previously moved away to London, and I didn’t reach out to those I was still connected with because I was afraid they’d judge me.

    It was just me and my cat spending hours alone in a small, dark bedroom. I cried a lot and I continually isolated myself. I hated the feeling of being alone, but in hindsight I needed solitude.

    I was about to discover something magical—my inner strength and an infinite love of the universe.

    What Solitude Brought into My Life

    My story of the most profound period of solitude in my life isn’t a necessarily pleasant one, but I now recognize it as a turning point in my life.

    When my depression hit rock bottom and I was feeling suicidal, I was overwhelmed with this inner strength that seemed to come from nowhere. It urged me to listen to what solitude was trying to teach me and helped me reconnect with my true self.

    I had a new determination to pull myself out of my current state of despair and step into new territory. Unbeknown to me, I was about to enhance my spiritual journey and discover peace.

    It was during a meditation session one night that I felt a warmth and deep love within me. I knew that there was a way out of my sadness, that being alone had the potential to teach me more than any book could.

    In the days following my realization and connection with a power I still can’t describe to this day, I gained the courage to step outside the house.

    I started noticing things around me on my solo walks like the vividness of nature’s colors, the soothing sounds of the river, and the tangible beauty everywhere around me.

    I also noticed for the first time that everything is connected. All that is in the universe, is the universe itself.

    How to Embrace Solitude

    Even if you live with family, a partner, or roommates, there is always an opportunity to implement some intentional alone time.

    For the most experienced spiritual folk, silence and solitude go hand in hand. However, for the sake of accustoming yourself to the intentional practice of solitude, you can start with the basics.

    Here are three practices that can heighten your alone time:

    1. Meditation

    Meditating in solitude can be an extraordinary experience. It enhances your ability to be present as you focus on just being.

    Sitting in silence and stillness can also decrease your stress, boost your mental health, increase your self-awareness, help you foster self-acceptance, and deepen your self-compassion.

    For me, meditation has been an ongoing practice, though not always consistent, that has brought about a deeper connection with myself and the universe.

    2. Journaling

    Daily writing is a wonderful practice to enhance your solitude. Writing leads to self-awareness and personal insight and facilitates creativity because inspiration often arises during quiet moments of reflection.

    Writing allows you to listen to the quiet voice inside your head, and it encourages you to ask yourself questions about what you truly want.

    Journaling continues to be one of the biggest tools I use in my moments of solitude. I gain creative insights and feel attuned to my emotions thanks to penning my journal each day.

    3. Connect with nature

    Taking a meditative walk in nature is soothing for the soul and a guaranteed way to perk up our mood.

    It may also lead to a greater sense of spiritual connection as you consider the larger, powerful natural force behind everything within the universe.

    A lot of my inner happiness is dependent on the time I spend outdoors alone. I find I’m at my most peaceful when walking in the woods or by the sea.

    —

    However you choose to practice solitude, I encourage you to do the following.

    1. Get rid of distractions

    When you choose to spend time alone, really commit to your solitude. It’s tempting to grab your phone and mindlessly scroll social media or watch a YouTube video, but be disciplined and keep distractions at bay.

    Your time in solitude won’t be valuable if you’re just distracting yourself. Instead, lean into spending time on your own and what the space can teach you.

    2. Make it a priority.

    Everyone has the time to dedicate to themselves. Even if it feels uncomfortable, or you feel strange rejecting a social invitation, don’t make excuses to avoid being with yourself.

    The more comfortable you get with spending time alone doing things you love and reconnecting with yourself, the more connected you’ll feel to others. Self-love comes from solitude and with this love, you can give more to those you want to share it with.

    I Challenge You to Spend Time Alone Intentionally

    It probably won’t feel great the first time, and you’re likely to look for a way out of it, but spending time alone is one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself.

    There is so much self-growth to be had when you spend time nourishing the relationship you have with yourself.

    I’m sending you the warmest wishes and all the good vibes as you embark upon spending (and loving) your time in solitude.

  • How Life’s Daily Challenges Can Actually Be Gifts in Disguise

    How Life’s Daily Challenges Can Actually Be Gifts in Disguise

    “Smile at your patterns.” ~Tsoknyi Rinpoche

    Partway through Eckhart Tolle’s Conscious Manifestation course, I furiously jotted down his teachings about challenges and obstacles to remind myself that they’re not only a normal part of the human experience but necessary for spiritual growth. “Yes!!!!” I wrote in agreement.

    When faced with difficulty, the human tendency is to react and resist, and when we do this, we add suffering to an already difficult situation. This tendency is reflexive within me, and my mindfulness practice has enabled me to either observe the cascading habit pattern as it unfolds, which disentangles me from its snare, or to gently accept what is happening and proceed with calm action and a quiet mind.

    When we can practice acceptance and equanimity, when we can say, “Okay, this is my present moment experience, and I can allow it because it’s already here,” we soften and open in the most tender way. And with this opening, we can receive a bounty of lessons and wisdom that our obstinance so often obscures.

    A few days after listening to Eckhart’s talk, I had to see several doctors and get lab work done to address symptoms I’d been experiencing. The entire week was pockmarked with small difficulties.

    First, the doctor’s office lost my lab sample, so I had to go back and give another one. Then the lab work process got delayed, and in an attempt to access my results, I spent two hours getting transferred between multiple staff members who ultimately said they couldn’t help me.

    At the end of the week, I confronted my last hurdle: I arrived for a follow-up appointment, only to be told that the automated system had canceled it and that the doctor was not available.

    After I explained my situation and expressed my discontent, the medical assistant managed to rebook me with another doctor. I softened, thanked her, and sat down, acutely aware that I’d lost my (spiritual) way.

    With each setback, I was upset and resistant. Like a snake releasing venom, I texted my husband flurries of frustrations, spoke exasperatingly to hospital staff, and felt my body tighten with stress.

    I realized that I only softened to the medical assistant because she told me what I wanted to hear, and within moments, this insight allowed me to look back on the entire series of events with a compassionate and non-judgmental eye. 

    I saw with clarity that in cloying for ease, I only created more difficulty. I saw that I had been behaving as if everything were a threat—like the healthcare system was out to get me—and that the real predator was my own mind. Immediately, I felt an internal release, like a nearly bursting balloon slowly deflating with the prick of a pin. I realized I could stop fighting. I realized that I could choose to surrender.

    After my appointment, I had to go to the lab, and I arrived at what felt like a crowded DMV: people everywhere, red ticket numbers glaring overhead, and a wait that seemed unending. I took a deep breath, pulled a number, and decided that I was going to use the wait—which I now perceived as an opportunity, not a threat—for mindfulness, presence, and spiritual practice.

    I looked around me at all the people. I watched as children caringly pushed their elderly parents in wheelchairs, as a pregnant woman patiently engaged her three children, and as a person laboringly limped to the ticket machine, burdened by a massive leg brace.

    I thought: Everyone is here because they are experiencing some difficulty; everyone has health scares; everyone is taking time out of their days to be here; everyone is waiting.

    I was so touched by the kindness and patience I witnessed. Suddenly, my story became enveloped in everyone’s story. I was them and they were me. I felt a deep kinship—a tenderness that made me feel enveloped in, rather than targeted by, the human experience. 

    As my awareness expanded further and further outside myself, I began connecting with those around me. I told the pregnant woman sitting beside me that I admired her patience, and when she shared that she was fasting for a half day of pregnancy-related lab work, I became even more aware that mindset is a choice.

    I made eye contact with a man whose gentleness I perceived underneath his masked face. We didn’t say anything, but we said everything.

    I kept scanning the room, and I noticed it had transformed from a chaotic, undesirable place, to somewhere I wanted to stay, somewhere I felt deep meaning and connection. Then I noticed that the space did not transform; I simply changed my relationship to it.

    When I left the lab, I was buoyant. I felt energized, connected, and light. I was overwhelmed with the experiential realization that the entire week was a skillfully designed lesson on challenges. I saw what happens when I fight to make them go away, and then I saw what happens when I invite them in, with an open heart and an open mind.

    “Challenges as gifts” left the theoretical world of quotes and concepts and burrowed into my lived experience. It stays there, and reminds me of itself, when I allow it to shine its light.

  • Feeling Burnt Out? Meet Toxic Productivity & Grind Culture with Rest

    Feeling Burnt Out? Meet Toxic Productivity & Grind Culture with Rest

    “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” ~Audre Lorde

    When you hear the word “productive,” you likely think of something positive: busting through that work assignment, making your house sparkly clean, or crushing your hobby.

    Productivity is what we all aim for, right? On workdays and even on our days off, we seek to make something happen.

    Grinding and hustling are seen as admirable, and something to work toward, always.

    If we fall short, we beat ourselves up, and sometimes even drag ourselves off the couch to force ourselves into productivity. We feel if we don’t complete all of the tasks, we’ve failed. We set crazy high expectations for ourselves then hate ourselves when we don’t meet them.

    What would happen if we scaled back, even just a little? What if we included rest in our practice?

    It seems we’d fall apart, we’d become piles of mush, not contributing to society or our own lives. This is bullsh*t. Toxic productivity grinds us down, not forward.

    The need to be productive all the damn time impedes our ability to enjoy life and take a breather once in a while.

    I’m not saying that all productivity and hustle are bad. I’m saying the culture around needing to be a robot of a human, producing 24/7, is what gets us into trouble.

    I’m guilty of it myself. When I got my first big girl job out of college, I worked for a fancy tech start-up. I was amped to be given so much responsibility at age twenty-three, so I worked all the hours I could to prove I was capable.

    The “work hard, play hard” culture was pushed at my job. After all, we had a ping pong table, avocados in our snack room, and bean bag chairs to nap on. Who needs an apartment when you’ve got everything at work?

    That was my mindset. I grinded, early mornings and late nights, extra coffee and minimal sleep. It was almost cool to be working in the office on a Saturday.

    I had a coworker who slept at the office multiple nights a week. We all thought she was crazy, but I wasn’t far off.

    On top of all my work, I had a gazillion hobbies. I was running a blog, playing hockey, volunteering at my meditation center, attending twelve-step meetings, and trying to date.

    The grind never ended. When did I rest? Never. Rest was for the wicked.

    It all eventually caught up to me when, one dreary winter evening, I sat in my therapist’s office sobbing about how I didn’t want to be alive anymore. I had burned the candle at both ends for too long, and it had all become too much.

    I was sent to a mental hospital, and my whole life came crashing down. I had been institutionalized for two whole weeks when I began to reconsider my life.

    “Is this what I want for myself?” I thought. “Can I even keep going like this?”

    The answer was no. My work and life patterns were not sustainable. I couldn’t keep “yes-ing” everything and everyone.

    Something had to give. I was bursting at the seams, with no coping skills to tie me together again. With no choice, I had to give up my job and submit to my healing.

    For a year, I didn’t work a full-time job. It was very unlike me. I was privileged to get on disability and was able to take the time to pick apart my life to find what wasn’t working.

    What I found to be toxic was the grind, or the pursuit of always needing to be doing something. It ate away at me and my perfectionist tendencies, always wanting to be the best.

    Instead, I embraced rest. I know I’m privileged in this because not everyone has the same chance to do such a thing. Some have no choice but to work forty-plus hours a week.

    Still, even now, with a full-time job, in grad school, in a relationship, and with several hobbies, I carve out space for rest. I know how important it is to my overall well-being.

    I do this by giving myself some space on a certain day of the week to just do nothing. I have full permission to kick back and do whatever I please: nap, read a book, watch tv, lay in the grass. The point is to not have to be productive for some time.

    Not only do I give myself an entire day, I try to carve out moments all throughout the week where I can just take a deep breath and be. Whether that’s getting up for a stretch or walk from my work computer or cuddling with my roommate’s cat for a moment, I enjoy life.

    Life isn’t just about how much I can produce. Being able to rest is essential to being the best human I can be and enjoying this short amount of time I have on Earth.

    The way that I suggest to drop the grind culture and toxic productivity is to examine your life. Ask yourself these questions:

    • Am I pushing myself beyond my limits?
    • Do I have too much on my plate?
    • How am I beating myself up?
    • What can I prioritize?
    • Where can I include more rest?

    Take a look at your life and see where you fall victim to toxic productivity. But don’t be overscrupulous! The point is to peek, not scour.

    With this information, you can make informed choices that intentionally include rest. Rest is the way out of this mess. Sometimes my productive brain even tells me, “If you rest, you’ll be able to work harder!” Maybe, but that’s not the point.

    The point is we need to recharge. There’s a reason why we sleep almost a third of our lives; we need the respite. Look at working out, one needs to rest in order to rebuild.

    Our bodies are sending us cues left and right that it’s what we need to do, but we often don’t listen until it’s too late and our gauge is past empty.

    You don’t need to wait until you’ve been hospitalized to rest. You can choose it today, in whatever increment makes sense for you. I promise it’s worth it.

  • How I Recognized My Fear of Failure and How I’m Mindfully Overcoming It

    How I Recognized My Fear of Failure and How I’m Mindfully Overcoming It

    “The only way to ease our fear and be truly happy is to acknowledge our fear and look deeply at its source. Instead of trying to escape from our fear, we can invite it up to our awareness and look at it clearly and deeply.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    My daughter began taking tumbling classes a week before her eighth birthday. She had been dancing since the age of three, and those classes included instructions for cartwheels and roundoffs. The harder stuff, like the back walkover, required tumbling or gymnastics classes, and she wanted the chance to be able to show off those moves during the annual dance recital.

    My wife wasn’t interested in watching our daughter repeatedly and blindly dive backward in a bendy arch, each time hoping her hands met the ground firmly enough to slow down the momentum of her trailing head and torso. But I was interested.

    Her dancing wasn’t exciting to me at that point because the skills involved weren’t physically challenging yet. That would come later. But each back walkover was a potential catastrophe, and that made them fun to watch.

    Tumbling classes aren’t cheap, and it was apparent to me that a single class a week was a slow way to acquire a skill. So we came to an agreement that we would try to spend at least a little time each day practicing things she was learning in class. This would be like quality father-daughter coaching time except I had no background in tumbling, coaching athletics, or not being an overbearing control freak. I would be the one doing most of the learning.

    A YouTube Tumbling Coach

    Obviously, there’s no technical challenge too complex that it cannot be mastered by watching two or three related YouTube videos by experts whose credentials you have not bothered to verify and are not qualified to assess.

    That’s where my training began—with good intentions and numerous short videos of young girls in leotards plunging backward into smooth backbends while their lead legs fluttered up and over their bodies and their trailing legs followed seamlessly after in a graceful full-body hinge.

    The cheaply produced clips became a source of embarrassment when my YouTube account synched with my work laptop. I remember stammering through an explanation to my students for the video recommendations that followed a TED Talk I had shown them on a classroom projector. They collectively grimaced.

    Not being aware of any of the finer points of the movements only fueled my coaching confidence and my daughter was soon mastering bridge kickovers, then backbend kickovers, and then, a short time later, the back walkover. She would appear at her weekly class suddenly able to easily perform a skill that was out of reach the week before. I loved that.

    Within months, I had assembled a trampoline in the yard without consulting my wife or daughter first.

    The basement’s piles of assorted clutter were repositioned to make room for a large gymnastics tumbling mat. A smaller one was added later as some of the clutter was donated to area charities. A third would eventually stretch the combined mats the length of the room diagonally with the last section rising vertically against the far wall as a protective barrier against my daughter’s growing gymnastics awesomeness.

    With the basement a de facto shrine to her hobby, I was emboldened to live vicariously through my only child’s growing list of technical accomplishments. Which I’m to understand is always completely healthy and never a problem…except when it is.

    Mindful of Being Way Too Much

    Relatively early in our collaboration, I treated my daughter to the sort of pep talk that makes eight-year-olds cry and not want to learn anything from you. It would not be the last.

    She kept working with me though. Even if I occasionally barked at her about her attitude like a stereotypical high school football coach, she still wanted to practice and improve. That willingness to endure my nonsense quickly became important.

    The back handspring was not conquered as easily as the previous dozen or so skills, and that was frustrating for the both of us. We tread water for months, her arms refusing to support the weight of her backward springing body, and she seemed to enjoy our practice time less than before. That was true for me as well.

    It was great being a successful inexperienced, unqualified tumbling coach. The less successful version just felt painfully aware that he wasn’t experienced or qualified to know how to address a repetitive breakdown in form. Do I yell at her arms? Can you motivate an appendage like a drill sergeant? It was a mystery.

    I cannot recall how many YouTube clips, message board recommendations, poorly described alignment changes, and conditioning drills I subjected her to over that time. It was too many and our shared frustration made me harder to be around. But I was confronting the reality of my coaching limitations one failed experiment after the other.

    With hindsight, this was the most important period for our collaboration and my growth as her coach. Nothing was working, progress was invisible, and the only thing I could do was to behave in a way that encouraged her to continue.

    Thankfully, my mindfulness practice was helping me develop my own skills. And those mindfulness skills would help me recognize the detrimental role fear was playing in my coaching.

    Noticing the Fear of Failure Is a Win

    Our time in the basement became a laboratory for my own mindfulness practice. Barely six months after beginning our collaboration, my daughter had lost faith in herself and the process. Just bringing my full presence to her in that atmosphere was a challenging spiritual exercise—especially when I assisted her with repetition after repetition of back handsprings and every part of me wanted to shout at her bending elbows for failing us both.

    The first move for this practice was to go into the basement with the intention to practice mindfulness.

    Yes, if you are a mindfulness maximalist like me you are usually trying to practice bringing a deeper level of attention to whatever you are doing. But more challenging situations can benefit from clearer intentions.

    My next move was to deconstruct the reactions I was experiencing.

    Those reactions consisted of mental images, mental talk, and emotional body sensations. Noticing the sensations that arise when I am frustrated gives me a handhold for dealing with the reaction skillfully.

    The third move was to bring my attention to prominent sensations.

    In those practices, thinking is a sensation, and I would try to get a clear sense of my inner chatter and visuals. Fixing a reactive sensation in attention while supporting your daughter’s lower back as she leaps backward is a bad idea, so I would consciously pause between repetitions.

    The frustrated thoughts and emotions expressed by the body could be embarrassingly dramatic. I was occasionally angry at reality for not honoring my efforts. Did reality not understand how much time I had spent on YouTube?

    Importantly, I didn’t dismiss or dispute the content of my thoughts. I practiced acceptance and non-engagement. The assumption here is that resisting your emotional resistance only creates more resistance, like trying to smother a brush fire with dried leaves.

    That was my fourth move: to have equanimity with what I was feeling.

    Except when I couldn’t. Then I tried to have equanimity with my inability to have equanimity with what I was feeling. Failing that, I tried to have equanimity with my failure to have equanimity with my lack of equanimity. It was equanimity all the way down.

    My fifth and final move was to recognize insight.

    It is easy to dismiss some insights as common sense or something you should have already known about yourself. But that might lead to a missed opportunity to learn and grow, especially if you are already experiencing emotionally immature reactions in response to reality being mean to you.

    The insight that emerged from my mindfulness practice during that period of stagnation was that I was afraid of failure.

    I was afraid that I would fail as a coach and my daughter would fail as a gymnast. And there was nothing I could yell at her elbows to change that.

    I was maybe most afraid that I was teaching an eight-year-old hard work doesn’t always pay off, your best isn’t always good enough, and it isn’t always worth the time and effort to learn how to do hard things.

    Those lessons aren’t entirely wrong, they’re just beside the point. My greatest fear should have been for her to no longer enjoy doing something she wants to do…because of me.

    I knew from the season I ineptly YouTube coached her soccer team a couple years earlier that young children have an incredible ability to still enjoy the things well-meaning adults are accidentally making less fun. But this was different.

    My fears weren’t just making me less effective as a coach; they were sending the message that our time together could only be enjoyable if she was making clear progress. I didn’t believe that and didn’t want her to believe it either. I committed to change my approach.  

    By the time the back handspring became another easy skill, coaching had become a deliberate practice of being present with my daughter. I would encourage her to explore her boundaries and to celebrate her efforts even when they did not represent visible progress.

    Several years later, I still offer myself the same encouragement when my own practice of being present falls short of my expectations, as it often does. To be fully present for the other, even for a moment, we cannot habitually neglect to offer the same openness to our own difficult features. And fear can make those features particularly hard to view with compassion.

    Each time we descend the stairs to the basement, we do so as different versions of ourselves. It is wise to be generous and assume the well-meaning tumbling coaches in all of us are trying their best. There is nothing broken in us that patience, consistency, and the right YouTube video cannot fix.

  • Put Down Your Phone: Why Presence Is the Best Gift You’ll Ever Give

    Put Down Your Phone: Why Presence Is the Best Gift You’ll Ever Give

    “When you love someone, the best thing you can offer is your presence. How can you love if you are not there?” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    The only thing worse than not listening to someone is pretending to listen.

    Giving the vague murmur of agreement, or a quick nod to communicate “Yes, I’m listening, totally,” when really, we’re not.

    I remember vividly a dinner I had with friends about four years ago. I’d been backpacking in New Zealand for twelve months and had just returned to the UK. Traveling in the car to my friend’s house, I imagined how the night would look…

    There would be lots of laughter (it was always side-splitting when we all got together).

    There would be lots of hugging (I hadn’t seen them for a whole year after all).

    There would be lots of storytelling (I would get to share my epic adventure).

    Did all of this happen? To some extent, yes, but not how I had imagined.

    In fact, I left feeling a little miffed, a little gutted.

    At first, I couldn’t work out why.

    My friends were the same old fun-to-be-around people.

    Despite ‘finding myself’ while traveling (I joke), I felt I was pretty much the same old person.

    So what was different?

    It hit me.

    The constant. Mobile. Phones.

    The entire evening was tainted by endless selfies, videos, status updates, incoming phone calls, outgoing phone calls, and notifications.

    Distraction after distraction after distraction.

    There were moments you could have heard a pin drop as the four of us, faces illuminated by the glow of the mobile phones, sat, hands glued to our devices. Ironically, telling anyone who was on Facebook and Instagram that night what a terrific time we were having.

    To begin with, I was angry with my friends. But soon I realized I was really angry with myself. I was equally guilty, and people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones after all.

    What could have been, rather, what should have been, an evening of being deeply present with one another, each one of us offering our full and undivided attention, was tainted by technology, spoiled by social media, marred by meddling mobiles.

    Backpacking was more campfires and deep life conversations below the stars, so this evening was felt like a return to reality. Most of us struggle to put our flipping phones down.

    If we stop and think about it, what message does it send to the human beings in front of us when we are busy on our phones?

    I made a vow that evening to get better at this, to be more present with friends and family, anyone I’m communicating with.

    I didn’t want to make anyone feel how I felt that evening—unheard and unimportant.

    Zoom forward to today and, well, I’m much better but far from perfect.

    Technology certainly is a huge barrier to presence, but it’s not the main culprit.

    The main culprit lives between our ears, the mind.

    The mind is a lot like a talking alarm clock, and you have no control over when it goes off and what it will say.

    For example, I can be sitting face to face with someone, physically a few centimeters in distance, but consciously, a world away.

    Instead of listening to what the person sitting across from us is saying, we listen to our thoughts.

    Hey, did I leave the oven on this morning when I left the house?

    I hope my breath doesn’t stink.

    Why is that stranger in the corner laughing—is my underwear tucking into my shirt?

    Or literally, anything else. Anything. Any other thought can pop up at any moment, pulling my focus momentarily away from the person in front of me.

    Luckily for us, people can’t always be certain when we’re not being fully present with them, especially if we’re an expert fake listener, able to give a very convincing response like “Yeah, sure, I get you.” Occasionally, I sense that the person I’m talking to senses I haven’t been listening. I feel bad and forgive myself for being human, before returning to the conversation.

    On the other hand, when someone is really listening to us, fully present with us in the moment, we can be certain. Without a doubt, because we feel it.

    It’s tough to put such moments into words, but you just know.

    Moments when we’re fully present with someone and it’s reciprocated, it’s like magic, like the rest of the world fades into the background. Like the first time you fall in love and you just feel connected; you feel the dance of communication, the resonating, the synchronicity, the oneness.

    That’s it. This, for me, is what presence is all about. The oneness.

    A few of my favorite ways to get present and cultivate oneness are:

    Eye contact

    The eyes truly are the windows to the soul. Giving eye contact really lets people know they’re being heard.

    Listening to understand instead of listening to respond

    We’re stuck in our heads if we’re listening purely to plan our response. Tuning into a person’s words and also how they say the words has greatly helped me to connect with people.

    Limiting distractions.

    Technology, off. The world can wait.

    Remember the good old days when only landline phones existed and if you weren’t at home people would leave a message and patiently wait for a response? Bliss. Nowadays, we’re available on mobile, Facebook, Messenger, Instagram, Snapchat, email… the list goes on. Flight mode is my friend. Anytime I want to get present, flight mode is activated.

    Facial expressions.

    When I really listen to someone, I find I empathize with them so much more. Naturally my facial expressions will reflect this, communicating I understand how they’re feeling. We all wish to feel understood.

    In a few weeks’ time, I’ll be flying back to the UK to spend time with my family. In fact, this will be the first Christmas in six years we’ll all be together (my dear parents, older sister, younger brother, and me).

    A part of me is sad knowing that around the world, there will be families sitting in their living rooms, surrounded by their nearest and dearest, but not really being there.

    Distracted either by their own minds, their mobiles, or maybe their new presents.

    It doesn’t have to be like this. Board games can be played and conversations can be had, with presence, together.

    In truth, we needn’t wait until the holidays to connect in this way, as any moment, any conversation, offers a chance to be present with each other. But the holidays, for me, really are prime opportunities.

    To be surrounded by the ones we love most and be with them more than just physically, but emotionally and spirituality too, well, this is worth more than any gift you’ll give or receive this year. This holiday season, give presence.

  • How I Overcame My Chronic Digestive Issues by Learning to Breathe Right

    How I Overcame My Chronic Digestive Issues by Learning to Breathe Right

    “If you know the art of deep breathing, you have the strength, wisdom and courage of ten tigers.” ~Chinese adage

    Let me share a little secret: I started healing from decades of debilitating chronic digestive issues when I stopped looking for the next best solution and trying to heal. Instead, I did nothing. And I took a breath.

    Let’s start at the beginning. I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease (an irritable bowel disease) at the age of eighteen, which would have marked the beginning of my oh-so-anticipated adult life, but instead, I thought my life was over.

    I had every symptom you can imagine—constant bloating, diarrhea, non-stop pain that would keep me bed-ridden for days. There were nights when I would fall asleep hugging my toilet. I could not keep food down and lost twenty-two pounds.

    My dream of going out and having fun with friends, stuffing our bellies with fondue and wine (typical French dish—I was living in Paris at that time) and so many more experiences I was anticipating, were slipping away from me. Instead, a painful, horrible reality was settling in fast.

    After being given medication for life and the advice to “manage my stress” by doctors, suffering from side effects from the treatment with no signs of getting better, I became my own wellness warrior.

    For a decade I went on a crusade for the “right” answer. I experimented with so many diets—the elimination diet, the low FODMAP diet; I quit carbs, then reintroduced them but took out gluten and dairy, while sitting in the lotus position as much as possible to reduce my stress and manage my anxiety. Sound familiar?

    Yet I had no real, sustainable improvements. My flares kept coming back. I realized healing had become my identity. I was desperately trying, looking for the next best wellness promise that would alleviate my symptoms.

    It was exhausting, but I desperately wanted to feel better.

    To not be afraid that any food, as healthy as it may be, would trigger a parade of symptoms. To not have to go to a meeting thirty minutes early to ensure I got the seat closest to the bathroom. To not be defined by my bowel disease and to live my life to the fullest.

    The day I had my first “pooping accident” in the middle of dinner with friends I realized something had to change.

    My quest for the best solution to heal my gut was so desperate, obsessive, and life-consuming that I almost stopped breathing. And when I took the time to take a step back and do nothing, it dawned on me: I had been so disconnected from my body that I literally did not remember how to breathe. 

    I don’t know if my anxiety affected my breathing pattern, which exacerbated my gut disease, or whether my gut disease caused my stress and anxiety, which changed my breathing pattern.

    Either way, a digestive issue, in any form, has as its main root cause what is going on in our head: our self-talk, our stress triggers, more than the foods we eat.

    The connection between our gut and our mind is strong and undeniable. Our digestive tract has its own nervous system and it sends constant information to our brain, our central nervous system.

    We’ve all said to ourselves or to others “trust your gut,” “go with your gut,” “I have a bad / good gut feeling.” It is literally the nervous system in your digestive tract sending signals to your brain that something is wrong or right!

    Similarly, we’ve all heard about foods that help balance our gut microbiome (the trillions of organisms that live in our gut)—fermented foods, probiotics, clean fiber-rich foods to feed our good bacteria. But how often do we hear about our true gut feelings—fear, anxiety, sadness, dread—that can actually kill all the bacteria in our gut we tried so hard to feed through nutrition? And how do we diminish them?

    If we focus on just nutrition to lower the symptoms of the gut, it is only one part of the picture. We have to look at our whole body and ourselves as a whole person. So by also focusing on diminishing stress, anxiety, and depression we can reverse the issues in our digestive system.

    Beginning to Breathe the Right Way

    Eventually, after seven years, I became tired from outsourcing my healing powers to “experts,” and I realized that the solution was not in another medication or diet but rather in my own hands. I took some time to listen to my body and to my breath. I had to re-learn how to breathe right to be re-connected to my body (and my gut).

    I noticed that what goes on in my brain is felt by my gut. When I felt stressed, my gut felt it too. Friends and family advised me to chill out or relax, but if you are dealing with a life situation that is super stressful, it’s hard to know where to start.

    So I took the first step and put one hand on my belly, the other resting on my diaphragm, and gave them love. I told myself, “I am safe, and I trust my body will guide me toward the path to wellness.” I focused on my breath as my belly rose and my diaphragm followed, and as I exhaled, I let go of every thought that was holding me back from my true healing.

    At first, I was overwhelmed with emotions of sadness and self-blame. How could I have let myself become so disconnected from my own body, my own breath? But as I stayed with these feelings and focused on my breath, I reconnected with my body in an unprecedented way. I felt strong, vibrant, and grounded in a way that I had never experienced before. I developed faith that that my body is a beautiful tool that knows what it needs to heal.

    If given half a chance, the body will heal itself by itself. We just need to stop and let it.

    I moved from being obsessed with healing to a space of not trying to heal, of doing nothing, and that is where my healing started. That state of “nothing” allows the little voice in your gut to come out—first quiet, injured, and confused and then a little clearer and more resilient each day.

    That is the voice that you need to acknowledge. Get familiar with it. Learn to trust it. Because this is where your healing and the life of your dreams begin.

    How to Optimize the Power of Your Breath to Benefit Your Gut

    1. Recognize stress.

    Stress manifests in various ways. You might experience it when you cook and your children are wrapped around your ankle, or when you have to spend time with someone you don’t want to see.

    Whatever causes you stress, you will be able to tackle it when you learn to recognize the first signals of stress in your body: a racing heart, irritable bowel, sweating, redness in your face, muscle tension, or jaw clenching.

    Take some time during the day to check in with how you are feeling.

    Go to a quiet place even for two minutes. Put your feet on the ground and feel the sensation of groundedness. Imagine you are at the roots of a big, majestic tree. Do you feel tingling in your hands, a burden on your chest, a pounding in your head?

    Do you experience feelings of anger? Fear? Joy? Anxiety? Happiness?

    Stay with these feelings. Tell yourself that you are safe. Breathe through those feelings and sensations.

    When we slow down and breathe mindfully we are allowing the mind to unpack the stress that can stimulate gut irritation.

    2. Get out of your head and into your body.

    I used to feel anxious and fearful about being in debilitating pain for the rest of my life. I wanted to stop feeling this way so bad. We all want to get rid of uncomfortable feelings as quickly as possible, but this can actually create more anxiety. Stress and anxiety disconnect you from your body, and you get cut off from emotion and intuition.

    It’s natural to feel fearful or anxious when something stressful happens, or we’re thinking about what’s going to happen in the future. But if we focus on what could go wrong, we catastrophize and our internal monologue can derail us.

    It’s important that you don’t criticize yourself for these feelings. Instead, love yourself through it by saying, “This is a normal response to my circumstances, which are stressful or difficult. It’s okay to feel this way.”

    Then do something to get out of your head and into your body. Do some light stretches, take a walk, dance to your favorite song. Anything that gets you physically moving will help you stop obsessing and dwelling.

    3. Calm anxiety by accepting it.

    When we let anxiety run its course without fighting it, it reduces. Fighting the feeling of anxiety is what can trigger a panic attack.

    You may have heard of the phrase “what you resist persists,” and you may have experienced it.

    Recognize and understand your anxiety: Tell yourself, “I feel anxious and nervous because I’m worried about …”

    Then, just breathe: Inhale and exhale slowly for several deep breaths.

    As you continue with this practice, you will get in tune with your body and learn to trust it.

    4. Learn to breathe the right way.

    How are you breathing? Through your mouth or your nose? Maybe you haven’t ever noticed how you breathe. That was me for so long until I started paying attention.

    We should be breathing through our nose. Breathing through our mouth tends to stimulate upper chest breathing, which is more shallow. It places our body in a state of stress, which increases inflammation. When we breathe through our nose, we breathe calming breaths through our diaphragm.

    Studies have shown that when we breathe through our diaphragm we are massaging our internal organs, including our intestine, reducing inflammation.

    Breathing through the nose allows us to breathe more efficiently and stay in a state where the body can heal itself.

    How Should We Start Breathing Correctly?

    Become aware of how you are breathing throughout the day. When you catch yourself breathing through your mouth, switch and breathe through your nose. If you feel stressed or anxious, that is an indication that you are breathing through your mouth.

    Try breathing through your nose as much of the time as possible. The more you practice it, the more you’ll train yourself to calm down quickly.

    Next time your physical symptoms arise, instead of looking for the next best solution and trying to heal, creating stress and anxiety, take a breath and ask your body: What do you need to heal?

    Then listen to the signs it gives you, as it is the perfect medicine for you.