Tiny Buddha

Tag: numb

  • The Song That Surprisingly Brought Me Back to Life

    The Song That Surprisingly Brought Me Back to Life

    “Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.” ~Maya Angelou

    I used to believe that healing and personal transformation required a lot of effort—writing page after page in a journal or getting up at the crack of dawn to carry out a morning routine, to name a couple.

    When I moved through a phase of numbness—or the tunnel of darkness, as I now call it—it was frightening, and there seemed to be no end in sight. But one song found me at the right moment and changed everything.

    In under five minutes, it achieved what all the tools and knowledge I had couldn’t: it made me feel something.

    That moment reminded me that healing and moving forward don’t always need rituals or words—sometimes, all it takes is the right sound at the right time.

    Before that moment of awakening, my life felt like a loop. Day in and day out, everything was the same. My being was on mute—nothing resonated, and I walked through life hollow, flat, and disengaged.
    Each day felt like the one before. I was disconnected but longing to feel something. I put pressure on myself to fix whatever this was. And when it didn’t work, I pushed harder and harder.

    I tried all the things I had learned over the years: deep breathing, meditation that only amplified the noise in my head, journaling until my hand ached, lighting salt candles, and still, I couldn’t seem to connect with myself.

    There was only stillness, but it didn’t feel peaceful. It felt strange and disorienting—a kind of stuckness. A sense of being that portrayed me not as a person anymore, but just a body moving through the motions.

    Yet nothing changed. None of the knowledge I had made a difference. The tunnel seemed to cave in on me, leaving me feeling like I was nothing—like I’d never get anywhere again.

    Then, one day, I pressed play on “Wild Flower” by RM of BTS. I can’t remember exactly how I found it, but I do remember being alone, just trying to de-stress.

    It was one of those moments where you click on something without really knowing why—just a quiet, inner nudge. BTS had come into my life a few months earlier, and I was most drawn to RM. That day, something in me—the part that still carried hope—asked me to click on this song, this video. And within seconds, everything shifted.

    In an instant, my body stopped and took notice. From the opening that hit me like a firework to the first notes and spoken words (in Korean, which I didn’t understand), I felt something again. I couldn’t believe it.

    I went from numbness—from nothing—to goosebumps, tears streaming down my face, and tension leaving my body.

    The emotion in RM’s voice, the chorus sung by Youjeen, and the sound of the music itself—it was the reminder I needed that I was still alive. Still here.

    That song became the catalyst for me to open up, to feel again, and to realize there was a way out—a way back to myself.

    At first, I didn’t understand the lyrics, and I didn’t even try, because it didn’t matter. What mattered was the rawness in the delivery, his voice full of emotion that anyone could understand. The longing, the ache, the release—all of it was enough.

    Later, when I looked up the words, it only deepened the meaning. Sentences like “When your own heart underestimates you” and “Grounded on my own two feet” felt like direct messages to my soul. Like someone finally saw me—not for who I was pretending to be, but who I was beneath all the effort.

    In that moment, I realized I didn’t need to do more. It was about opening up just a little more and receiving what this song was giving me.

    I didn’t need to journal, dive deeper into personal development, fix myself, or hustle. That moment reminded me: just being with the music was enough.

    While journaling gives me insight into myself and my life, music gives me the emotion I need to feel in order to start healing.

    And then a quiet question rose up in me: “What if healing doesn’t have to be earned or hustled for?”

    What if we don’t need to constantly work on ourselves to be okay? What if some parts of healing are actually about stopping, softening, and letting something bigger hold us, even just for a moment?

    That one song became that moment for me. It cracked something open. And once it did, I didn’t fall apart. I began to come alive again, slowly, quietly, but surely.

    I still love journaling—it’s a consistent part of my life—but now I know that healing can begin in silence, in sound, and in surrender.

    Since then, I’ve had many other moments where music became the medicine I didn’t know I needed.

    Sometimes it’s a gentle white noise—a crackling fire mixed with rain. Other times, it’s a beat that makes me move, cry, or sing.

    But “Wild Flower” was the beginning, the song that reminded me feeling is possible again. That numbness isn’t permanent. And that sometimes, we don’t need to search for the right words. We just need to listen.

    I encourage you to notice what songs find you and how they make you feel. Because maybe today, your healing begins with listening.

  • The 3 Ms That Help Me Cope with Seasonal Depression

    The 3 Ms That Help Me Cope with Seasonal Depression

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

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

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

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

    I miss the summer evenings, I sighed to myself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    1. Mindfulness

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

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

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

    Experiencing myself writing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    2. Meaning

    The second M that helped me was meaning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

    3. Moments of Joy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    —

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

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

  • All the Ways I Tried to Numb My Loneliness and What Actually Helped

    All the Ways I Tried to Numb My Loneliness and What Actually Helped

    “A season of loneliness and isolation is when the caterpillar gets its wings.” ~Mandy Hale

    I feel so alone right now. Like, crawling out of my skin, I’ll do anything I can do to not feel this way alone.

    I haven’t felt this way in a long time. Thank goodness I have tools to take care of myself. Let me explain.

    My earliest childhood memory is my mother’s empty bed. The sheets are white, untucked, and messy.  The duvet cover is loose and hanging halfway on the floor. The room is quiet, there’s no sign of mom, and I am all alone.

    That’s when I met loneliness for the first time. When I was three-and-a-half years old and my mom had just passed away.

    Loneliness came upon me before I could understand what was going on. It came upon me when I was unprotected and exposed, when I was vulnerable and needy, and it pierced me to my core.

    As I got older, loneliness made me feel unworthy and different—as if I was the only person in the world that felt that way. It made me feel flawed and defective, and it liked to catch me off guard.

    Being in this headspace was so intense and overwhelming, I would do anything I could to make it go away. I would binge watch television, emotionally eat, play video games, and watch pornography (yes, I just admitted that).

    I didn’t have the emotional tools to ride out the discomfort of feeling alone, so I made myself feel better the only way I knew how—by numbing out.

    If I had a tough day at work, I’d come home and “escape” my feelings with television. If a girl I was interested in didn’t show interest in me, I’d watch porn so I didn’t have to deal with my fear of abandonment and loneliness.

    Upon first look, the solution seemed simple: learn to be comfortable in solitude. Ha! That’s like telling someone who wants to lose weight “Just eat less and move more.”

    If letting go of our patterns were that easy, none of us would suffer. This is why healing and self-intimacy aren’t for the faint of heart.

    It’s called inner work for a reason. I digress.

    What I discovered was that my “pattern” of escaping was actually a coping mechanism. I was trying to help myself, albeit in a not-so-healthy way.

    My fear of being alone felt too big to meet, so instead, I used television, food, video games, and porn to help manage it. To squelch the inner anxiety going on inside of me.

    And it wasn’t even conscious. I didn’t wake up each day thinking, “I’ll watch porn today to escape my feeling of loneliness.”

    In fact, it was the opposite. I would go to bed each night saying I was done with this type of behavior only to repeat the pattern the next day.

    It was default programming that was running on its own—until I slowed down to be with what was running it. As soon as I courageously did this, my patterns shifted.

    With the help of a mentor, I’ve developed a practice where I connect with loneliness rather than run away from it. After all, loneliness is part of the cast of characters that live inside each and every one of us.

    Any time I feel this way, I come up with a list of five to ten questions, like: Why are you here? What are you here to teach me? Will I be okay if I just sit in the discomfort of what’s coming up for me? I then invite loneliness to pull up a chair next to me and I interview my greatest fear. I work on the relationship rather than running away from it.

    When I sit with my loneliness I remember I am whole and complete, just the way I am. I often think about my mom during this time and have gone back to that place as a little boy to let him know that he is okay and remind him that his mother loves him very much.

    In the beginning I shed many tears, but after a while I was no longer plagued by a constant sense of longing. In fact, I began to enjoy being alone. Go figure!

    This got me thinking—what if our patterns of binge watching TV, checking out on social media, watching pornography, etc. are well-intentioned? What if they are here for us?

    We humans play this game all the time. We try to manage our feelings through acts of busyness, distraction, overwhelm, food, alcohol, pornography, work, and more. We use something outside of us in order for us to feel better on the inside.

    What I’ve realized is that management is a defense—a protector trying to help. It’s innocent and wonderful in its own way. Yet, real help only comes when we go within and meet what’s going on inside of us.

    Loneliness doesn’t go away. It’s a part of who we are.

    It’s a normal human emotion and can teach us a lot about ourselves. It can teach us patience and the importance of self-love.

    Building a relationship with this part of you takes time. It’s a process.

    So the next time you feel the twinge of loneliness creeping in, don’t try and run from it. Rather, lean into it and see how your life changes for the better.

    Loneliness created the urge to numb my emotions. Learning to be comfortable in solitude strengthened my esteem.

    It’s your choice. Self-pity or self-love.

    Today I intentionally shift this relationship. Take the beginning of this article for example.

    My wife is away on a work trip for the next twelve days, and I’m feeling isolated and alone. Rather than binge watch television or escape via porn, I’m going to reconnect with loneliness by simply sitting with it and see what it has to teach me.

    Where are you managing your fears and feelings? And how can you meet them instead?

  • Disordered Eating: What We Need to Understand and How to Heal

    Disordered Eating: What We Need to Understand and How to Heal

    “Food can distract you from your pain but food cannot take away your pain.” ~Karen Salmansohn

    Long before I was watching The Biggest Loser (a popular weight loss reality TV series) and trying to look like a swimsuit model, I was hiding in my closet eating candy, fiercely addicted to sugar.

    I remember feeling completely out of control over my cravings for all things sweet, and I didn’t know how to stop myself from eating until I felt sick. Food played a bigger role in my life than simply to support the processes in my body that lead to optimal health. To my “child self,” who wasn’t sure the world was a safe and welcoming place, food was a lifeboat.

    No little kid imagines, “Oh, it would be fun to starve myself and see what happens!” Or enjoys waking up in the middle of the night to work out for hours for the reward of being “loved” by those around them. But when faced with adversity in childhood, our number one goal is to survive, and in order to do so, we look for ways to reassure ourselves that we have some element of control.

    I grasped for anything I could to create a sense of agency and stability in my life, but at the cost of disconnecting from my inner wisdom and abandoning the core of who I was created to be. I was trying to survive by becoming less. Less of myself, less visible to the world around me, while at the same time crying out to be seen.

    As you consider your own childhood experiences with food, notice any emotions that come forward. How old were you? What was the backdrop in which these early experiences with food occurred?

    As I reflect on my own food story, I see how my emotional pain and a complicated relationship with food became intertwined. It was one of the only levers I could pull to manage the chaos both in my home and within myself.

    What appeared on the surface as a “fear of food” was in truth a fear of feeling. Feeling meant facing the ache of growing up in a home where strong emotions were suppressed, intuition ignored, and many conversations critical for the healthy maturation process of an adolescent, avoided.

    For example, any discussion around the topic of sexuality and what it meant to embody and express mine, was considered “taboo,” and shameful in the highly religious culture of my upbringing. Therefore, it is no coincidence my disordered eating patterns surfaced in tandem with my body’s transition into puberty.

    The changes in my body, at that time, felt terrifying, and the disordered eating served as an attempt to shut down the process of sexual maturation—a means to avoid the shame of being “sexual.”

    In my rehabilitation process from anorexia, bulimia, and orthorexia I found again and again that behind a binge, purge, or restrictive behavior was often a deep emotional pain I felt ill-equipped to meet and care for in a healing manner.

    Disordered eating was “pain-management.” Albeit not the most effective strategy for coping with distress, but it was the one I knew inside and out.

    The first time I recall recognizing disordered eating as a way to handle emotional turmoil, I was sitting in therapy feeling guarded and hesitant to believe that the healing answers lived anywhere in that room. I didn’t fully understand why I was there, aside from being told it was the “right” thing to do to get professional help.

    The therapist looked at me with concern in her eyes and asked, as if the answer should be simple, “Why are you so afraid of food? Why the eating disorder?”

    Now, I’d been asked that question by many well-meaning, worried adults before, but on this day, I felt an unexpected flood of emotion rise within, and fighting back tears, I replied,

    “I’m not afraid of food. I’m afraid my parents will divorce.”

    The moment the words left my mouth, I realized the question my heart had been desiring for someone to ask all along was: “Why the pain?”

    Think back to your childhood home and the role food played, beyond physical sustenance.

    Was food a reward for good behavior?

    Did food cause fights between your parents (i.e., one parent burns dinner, and the other explodes in anger)?

    Was food used as a way to “regulate” you—help you “calm down,” feel comforted when you were sad, or numb pain?

    When you faced challenges, was food more available than the ears of the adults in your life?

    Did you feel safe in your childhood home to express internal pain?

    Furthermore, if you grew up in an intense emotional climate, and your primary caregivers lacked the level of consciousness, and resources, to support you in learning healthy emotional regulation, food might have been the only “state-changer” (the only thing to take the edge off painful experiences) available. Food was your therapy.

    Emotions ended up being “fed” instead of felt. Eating became a way to cope with the feelings that seemed out of control in your life. Instead of fueling your body with the building blocks required for healing, you ate to numb your pain.

    Hear me when I say, there is no shame if you find yourself here—if you’re still stuck in the cycle of using food to survive your own emotional experience. You’re worthy of self-compassion—to be able to look back at your younger self and appreciate the ways you managed the pain you faced, with the resources you had. Whole-body rehabilitation starts by offering gentleness toward oneself.

    Another critical component of healing is giving yourself permission to have the conversations with yourself that, as a child, you didn’t or couldn’t have with others, but longed to. Doing so aids in establishing a “safe” environment within yourself for healing to flow. Set yourself free to explore any and every question that feels important to you.

    As I mentioned earlier, for me one such conversation was around what it meant to be a sexual being. For you this might mean exploring the confusion you felt when your parents split and the challenges you faced adjusting to new blended family dynamics, the loneliness you experienced as a child because it was hard for you to make friends, or a sense of shame about your family’s socioeconomic status.

    And if it was normal in your family of origin to bury and suppress half of the emotional spectrum, as it was in mine, especially the feelings that are uncomfortable, that require deeper self-inquiry, think about whether this culture aligns with your core values, now.

    What culture do you desire to cultivate for your future self around navigating emotional pain? This is your opportunity to excavate a new tunnel from which to travel from emotional pain to healing, for you and generations after you!

    Right now, you have an opportunity to build trust with yourself by committing to allowing every emotion to be experienced. What is one emotion that you believed as a child was “off limits?” What would change today if you allowed yourself to experience that emotion—to permit its flow through you?

    Listen to the little voice within you, with your heart wide open. Witness yourself. Be the listening ear you longed for when things first got “complicated” with food. Only then can you ask your younger self if they’re ready to entertain some alternative strategies, besides food, to help scary emotions move through the body.

    And when you are ready, here are some of the beautiful practices I have found on my own healing journey, that aid in building a space where the body feels free to release big feelings:

    1. Jin Shin Jyutsu- Finger Holding Practice

    This Japanese healing technique works to calm your energetic body. The practice involves holding each finger for one to three minutes on one hand, then repeating on the other hand. Each finger represents a different emotion:

    Thumb- Worry

    Pointer Finger- Fear

    Middle Finger- Anger

    Ring Finger- Insecurity and grief

    Pinkie- Self-confidence

    2. The 4-7-8 Breath or “Relaxing Breath”

    One benefit of this breath practice is its ability to strengthen “vagal tone.” The Vagus Nerve is the longest group of nerves in the body, running from your brain to your gut, and it is a key component in the activation of your parasympathetic nervous system—the branch of the autonomic nervous system that promotes the resting, digesting, and repairing in the body. Improving vagal tone can play a role in reducing stress and anxiety as well as:

    • Improve digestive health
    • Increase HRV (Heart Rate Variability)
    • And lower levels of inflammation in the body

    3. Walking outside barefoot

    Reconnecting to our roots, putting feet to earth, and absorbing the healing nutrients it has to offer can do a world of healing. When you put your bare feet on the earth, the electrical current coming from the ground contains an abundance of negative ions that are then absorbed by your skin and dispersed throughout the body. These negatively charged ions have been shown in clinical research to promote greater physical and psychological well-being.

    Try one or all of the techniques listed above to reconnect to your emotional body, ground yourself, and release stuck feelings. Notice any shifts you experience as a result.

    The goal is to start to create an environment of safety for your inner child to explore the previously forbidden emotions, without fear of abandonment or shame.

    No different from any other coping strategy, disordered eating can be a means to try to create the safety within that we lacked in our outside world early on in life. But there are other interventions, such as the ones mentioned above, that can offer a sense of safety without harm.

    Recovering from disordered eating comes back to finding healing ways to be there for your emotions, rather than numb them with food restriction, binging, or purging. Because it’s really not about the food at all. It’s about becoming the friend your body longed for in your most painful moments.

    Give your body a safe place to express, let go, and experience, without judgment, the total expanse of feelings that come with being human, and watch your relationship with food transform as a side effect.

  • How Boys Learn to Repress Their Feelings and How We Can Do Better as Men

    How Boys Learn to Repress Their Feelings and How We Can Do Better as Men

    “Shoutout to all the men going through a lot, with no one to turn to, because this world wrongly taught our males to mask their emotions and that strong means silent.” ~Alex Myles

    He is close to tears. He is not physically hurt. No ankle has been twisted, no knee has been scraped, nobody needs their asthma inhaler.

    The other boys are making fun of his size.

    Most of the time he pretends it doesn’t bother him. But I’m the coach, and it’s pretty hard to miss.

    I have watched him smile and try to shake it off. Sometimes he will parry with a comment of his own—something about them that they’re sensitive of…

    I know this thing that they are doing. I call this “emotional arm punching.” It’s a rite of passage boys use to desensitize themselves to emotions, just like when they punch each other repeatedly in the bicep and try not to show how much it hurts. 

    For about two months out of the year I am entrusted with seeing some of the real feelings these kids have. The reason why I get to see them is because they haven’t yet been taught not to allow themselves to feel them. They haven’t been taught that emotions are a weakness. But I can tell you this, it is definitely beginning, and this emotional arm punching, especially with boys, is the sign of it.

    This term I’ve coined—emotional arm punching—you see it all the time on playgrounds, middle and high school sports, probably even in the Boy Scouts. Maybe you remember it from when you were younger? It’s the tiny emotional jabs you take at your friends about things that you know they’re sensitive about that hurt their feelings.

    I know this well from my own experience. I was called stupid and berated by my coaches because, try as I might, I could never remember the plays.

    The other players would use the coach’s opinion of my play to deflect the attention from their own failings by coming after me relentlessly for my inability to remember plays, or, even worse, if I let down my guard and told my teammates how the coach’s remarks made me feel.

    Ultimately, I found myself deflecting my emotional hurt, hurling my own insults or digs back on my teammates about their performance.

    Now, if you asked most people, they would say this is a rite of passage in our society. You’re learning how to “be a man.” You’re learning to not let emotions affect you.

    Unfortunately, I can tell you this firsthand: it doesn’t teach kids not to have emotions. What it teaches them is to not tell or show anybody what they are feeling and to repress their emotions, just like I learned to do.

    With no one to help me actually work through my feelings, I found myself stuffing down my embarrassment and shame until those emotions became a roaring anger. That anger would ultimately become disproportionately intense. However, with no place to go, it would erupt from me when I least expected it—often on my friends or my mom.

    Kids are being called short, fat, ugly, or any unacceptable thing that their friends (or even those who aren’t their friends) say about them—under the flag of jest of course.

    What is the result? You get a bunch of kids that start to learn that they are not supposed to react. They pretend emotions don’t bother them. But in reality? They hurt doubly worse because they can’t get any support or acknowledgment for what they’re feeling.

    Why does this matter? Because those circles you see on the sports fields, in the schools, or even the Boy Scouts, you’re going to see when you’re grown up and go to the holiday party, bowling team, or men’s club. It’s the same people.

    They grew up and their emotions are so repressed that they come out in much more unhealthy or even lethal ways. Think excessive drinking, angry outbursts, isolation, domestic violence.

    Adults who learned to repress their emotions as children end up resorting to finding ways to numb those emotions that are seeping out because they didn’t learn the tools to process them.

    And then there’s blame!

    Blame is when our ‘uncomfortable emotions’ cup runneth over inside of us. When we give emotions like fear, anxiety, and anger a nice, comfortable home outside of us by spilling them all over someone else in the form of blame.

    in her Ted Talk, The Power of Vulnerability, internationally renowned speaker, storyteller, and researcher Brené Brown said that blame is described in research as a way to discharge pain and discomfort.

    Blame is acting out your anger instead of dealing with your emotions and the problem that’s in front of you. I had this a lot!  Eventually, however, I recognized the pain my actions and outburst of anger caused my friends and loved ones ultimately silenced me and, for a long time, kept me from making real connections in my life.

    If we want men to be more aware of and able to identify how they feel so that they have choices instead of reactions—choice of the challenges they will pursue in their lives, the relationships they will create, the work that will satisfy them, and the kind of father they want to be—we’re going about it all wrong.

    One of the best tools I’ve learned when dealing with my feelings is what I call “emotionally testifying.”  This starts with developing a practice of becoming familiar with all of your emotions, not just the ones that we as men find socially acceptable.

    Recognize what your emotions feel like in your body. Then, have the courage to express them to trusted friends and family, describing how you are feeling and why you think you’re feeling that way.

    This familiarity with uncomfortable emotions allows you to start to trust yourself with expressing them. They’re not foreign to you, or something to be afraid or ashamed of.

    As you become confident at identifying and expressing your emotions with people you trust, you’ll be able to respond differently when you later find yourself with a group of other guys, and that emotional arm punching begins.

    Instead of perpetuating this socially accepted, but emotionally unhealthy norm, you will have the skills to express how you feel about what’s being said in a way that is authentic to you without harming anyone else.

    I believe it is more masculine to identify and understand your emotions and to acknowledge and accept when you hurt someone else’s feelings. Just because somebody said something to you that hurt you doesn’t give you the right to go off and put those hard feelings out on someone else. That is not a sign of strength.

    Strength is knowing how you really want to feel and interacting with your friends from a place of honesty and empathy.

    If you want to learn to trust yourself and your emotions, tell your friends how you feel. If they give you a hard time, you will recover and be healthier for it. And you never know, they might follow your lead and give you an emotionally honest response back. Either way, it’ll save a lot of emotional bruising.

  • How I Reclaimed My Life When I Felt Numb and Unhappy

    How I Reclaimed My Life When I Felt Numb and Unhappy

    “All appears to change when we change.” ~Henri-Frédéric Amiel

    The biggest life-changing moment in my life would have looked unremarkable to an outsider looking in.

    I was at a point in my life (my late twenties) where everything seemed to look good on paper. I had a great job, I was living in downtown Seattle, and I enjoyed the live music scene. Aside from not being in a relationship, I thought I had “arrived.”

    The only problem was, I was miserable, and I barely acknowledged it. A part of me knew that I wasn’t happy, but I tried to run away from that feeling by playing guitar, writing, or watching live music as much as I could.

    My other avoidance tactics were working long hours at my day job or socially drinking at “hip” bars in the city.

    But every time I came home, there I was. Still grappling with my feelings and trying to understand why happiness was so fleeting.

    I had also recently broken up with someone that I cared about but knew was not healthy for me. She was a heavy drinker, and because I tended to just blend in with my partners, my drinking had increased substantially when I was with her, and I felt horrible (physically and emotionally).

    It was a messy ending, and it left me even more confused. I should be so happy. “Why aren’t I?” This nagging thought haunted me for several months.

    Moment of Awareness and Choice

    One afternoon, I came home from work and mindlessly went through my routine. Dropped my bag off by the door. Changed into comfort clothes. Went to the refrigerator and opened a beer.

    I then plopped on the sofa and turned on the television. This was my routine for several mind-numbing months.

    When I reflect back on this moment, I can see that I was absently flipping through every channel available through the cable box. Interested in absolutely nothing. I would take a tug on the beer in one hand without even tasting it while changing channels with the remote in another hand.

    I was literally in a trance and not really processing anything. I was running on autopilot, without any conscious awareness, as channel after channel flipped by.

    And that’s when it happened. It was like the background noise in one part of my mind suddenly became amplified. I could hear thought after thought running through my mind like a CNN news crawl.

    The shocking part, for me, was how negative these thoughts were. “You’re no good. Nobody loves you. You’re a failure. You’ll never find someone who loves you. You’re not worth it.”

    I also had the realization that I’d heard these thoughts before but had chosen to stuff them down or mute the volume through distraction.

    But here they were. Loud and blaring. I was forced to face them once again.

    I was in a state of disbelief for several minutes while some choice expletives escaped my lips.

    Once the shock wore off, there was an overwhelming sense that I had reached a huge fork in the road.

    One choice led to stuffing these thoughts back down to wherever they came from and going back to sucking down a beer mindlessly watching television.

    And then, magically, a second choice came out of nowhere. Stop everything and just sit with these thoughts.

    I remember simply saying, “Huh!” out loud. I never realized that I had choices. I was programmed to run and hide.

    I became aware that this was a prodigious moment for me. I could feel chills run through my entire body.

    The choice was: Go to sleep again or just be present and experience these thoughts.

    Something deep within me knew which path to choose. It was the strongest sense of knowing I had ever experienced. I also knew that if I didn’t get on this train right now, I may be lost forever. It almost felt like a life-or-death decision.

    It was in that moment of choice that I finally gave in. I stopped resisting and avoiding. I chose to sit in the discomfort and not run away and hide anymore.

    The Choice to Pursue “Better”

    As soon as I made the choice to stay and be with these negative thoughts, my body jumped into action. As if someone else was not at the controls.

    In one long, swooping motion, I turned off the television, went over to the kitchen sink, and dumped out the rest of my beer. I then took a deep breath, walked to my living room, and sat cross-legged on the floor.

    I’d never meditated before but had heard of it. I was strongly interested in Buddhism when I was in college but never took the steps to explore what it was all about. I figured there was no better time than now to just try it.

    All I know was, in that moment, I made the firm decision that I was just going to sit and be with my thoughts. No matter how intense of a ride it would be or how crazy just sitting in silence seemed to be.

    I still remember those first moments of being in silence. It was a bittersweet experience. The bitter side was experiencing all of the mean and nasty thoughts running through my mind at full volume. There didn’t seem to be an end to it.

    But there was also a sweetness in the silence that was bathing my experience. There was a peace here that I had never experienced before. It was like being cuddled in a warm bosom, and I soon felt the negative words less scary to be with.

    I can’t remember how long I sat in silence on that first day, but it was at least a couple of hours. I remember opening and closing my eyes several times. I was checking to make sure I was still in my living room.

    It was like figuring out if you can trust wading into a lake you’ve never been to. Slowly, step by step. And certain moments I needed to take open my eyes and just allow myself to feel comfortable before going further.

    There were also moments where I felt “myself” leave my body, which honestly scared the H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks out of me. It was such a foreign experience. Even though I could feel some sort of a chord holding me to my body, I had never experienced being able to pop out and look down at my cross-legged self below. I was both intrigued and a bit freaked out at the same time.

    But I then started to hear a different voice coming in. A gentler voice.  One assuring me that everything was okay.

    I was guided to just be with the process and that I would eventually get comfortable and not need to pop out of my body. And for the first time in a long time, I started to relax.

    Eventually, I noticed that by letting my thoughts just float through, they would start to fade away until there was just sweet silence, and then more thoughts would come back at a lower volume. I still had no idea what I was doing, but I was feeling better and that was all that mattered.

    I didn’t realize it, but just sitting with my thoughts was making a statement. I was now broadcasting, “I want to learn how to be happy and more loving. I am not going to run away anymore.”

    From that moment on, I came home from work every day and just meditated. I got rid of my cable box and allowed myself to be open to new opportunities. I was guided by a friend to hire a life coach and started to address things in my life that prevented me from experiencing happiness.

    For example, I realized that I’d deadened my ability to tap into emotions because I worked in the aerospace industry, where it was all about facts and data.

    By using my new friend, awareness, I started to identify emotions that I had never really processed, examined, or tried to heal. One particular healing moment was visiting the anger I held from going to an all-boys Catholic high school. I was one of the smallest kids and got picked on from time to time.

    I didn’t even realize how much anger was simmering below the surface. It wasn’t until I was aware of it and then had permission to express my feelings, that I was finally free of my long-held anger about being teased and bullied.

    I also faced the fear I’d developed after being in an airplane crash at nineteen and had a beautiful moment of release with tears flowing like the Nile. It never occurred to me that I held onto to so much trauma and that it was begging to be released.

    The more I became aware of my past and released it, the lighter and happier I naturally became. I caught myself whistling to work one day, something that I hadn’t done in years!

    I also got into Buddhism and energy healing and soaked in all forms of spirituality that interested me. It was a joyous time of learning and trying.

    But ultimately, I knew that just learning was not enough. I needed to practice the ideas of love, healing, and forgiveness in the world.

    “Leveling Up” with Awareness and Choice

    When I look back on that moment where I finally stopped and chose a different way to be in the world, I recognize that was the most defining moment in my life.

    Sure, I have attended many spiritual workshops, retreats, and trainings and have had “mountaintop” experiences. But they never would have happened if I hadn’t made the choice stop and be completely present with my thoughts.

    Our minds are constantly in and out of awareness (awake) and unawareness (asleep). It takes diligence and practice to stay awake and to make loving choices.

    Think about how much of your day you’re actually aware of your thoughts or habits vs. when you are on “automatic pilot” doing tasks or zoning out over social media.

    Here are some ways to remain aware and at choice throughout your day:

    1. Set a goal for the day. Something like: “I want to be aware of my thoughts at work and think lovingly.” Set an hourly reminder on your phone to check in throughout the day.
    2. Put a post-it note with the words “Awareness and Choice” next to your work space or area where you spend most of your time to remind yourself to be present with your internal experience. Place it where you will see it often.
    3. Schedule meditation “dates” throughout your day. See if you can sneak in five five-minute meditations throughout the day. Set reminders if you need to.
    4. Pick someone in your life that you have a hard time being with (especially at work). Have a conversation with that person and watch your thoughts. Choose to see them differently in the moment (as best as you can).
    5. At the end of the day, review the thoughts you had about yourself or others. Go back to times in the day where you were hard on yourself or someone else. Replace those thoughts with ones you would rather have said to yourself.

    Awareness and choice are a powerful duo that can change your life for the better. Both are needed. Awareness is taking in what’s present. Choice is taking steps to move your awareness in your intended direction.

    Look to see where you can benefit from awareness and choice in your life. Then set your compass toward happiness and enjoy the journey!

  • When You Feel Like You’re Going Nowhere and Life Has No Point

    When You Feel Like You’re Going Nowhere and Life Has No Point

    “If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.” ~Wayne Dyer

    How many days do you wake up feeling like you’re a hamster on a wheel? You brush your teeth, take a shower, drink your coffee, go to work, come home, eat dinner, watch television, go to bed, and rinse and repeat.

    Do you wonder how you can keep going and keep everything together when it feels like you’re doing nothing, going nowhere, and living some life you weren’t meant for?

    Do you ever wonder what to do on those days where you feel like you can’t go on? On days where life seems to have no point? You’re going through the motions, but there is always an empty pit somewhere inside your soul that never seems to fill.

    It seems that no matter how hard you try, you end up in the same spot, in the same position having to start all over again, and your inability to change your messed up emotional patterns starts taking an excruciating toll.

    You wonder and think and read and try to break free from the subconscious battles within your mind, but the negative stranglehold has a strong grip and does not want to release you so easily.

    Maybe the pain has become intolerable, and instead of going away it has continued to eat away at your peace of mind bit by bit. But, then another day dawns and you’re still here and you live to start again.

    I have been in a cycle of rinse and repeat for more years than I care to remember. I have changed jobs at least ten times, apartments and locations twenty-three times, and boyfriends six times. I’ve had the same happy hour and the same weekends and the same soul-searching periods over and over and over again.

    I have tried to change all these external things because I figured changing the outside would change the inside. But like they always say, “Wherever you go, there you are.”

    Despite traveling the world, changing jobs, moving, and having relationships, I live my life in a little bubble because I feel safe there, and staying safe means being resistant to any real transformation. It doesn’t matter that I’ve changed my circumstances; the end result is always the same: I feel bored and empty and lost and alone.

    You feel bored and empty and lost and alone because you never really do anything different. Whether you stay stuck because you’re an introvert or you have social anxiety or you’re depressed or you’re lazy doesn’t matter. The fact of the matter is, change nothing and nothing will change.

    Look, I get it. I am a tried and true introvert, so developing relationships is exhausting. People think I’m extroverted because I can talk quite a bit one-on-one, but put me in a group and I’ll clam up. I become super anxious at parties or in large groups of people, preferring one-on-one in-depth interactions. Being an introvert makes life a little more challenging in a world that embraces and rewards extroversion.

    So, maybe there are days when you feel like you’re going nowhere and you don’t fit in and life has no point. But, you can change it, even if just a little. There are some little things you can do to change your patterns and your life.

    How Do You Keep Trying?

    First, you get up every damn day and say, “Today is a day for change” and you do your best and face the world, whether you want to or not. Every day you fight for yourself because if you don’t, no one else will. I know it’s hard and I know some days you want to stay in bed with the covers over your head. But, don’t do it. Get up. Go for a walk. Do something. Anything.

    Some days I force myself to get in the car and drive to the beach (okay, it’s only four miles) because I’m so comfortable in my apartment. Every time I get there I’m happy I did. I roll out my towels and read a book while listening to the waves crash, or I walk along the water’s edge watching the sand between my toes and squishing those weird little seaweed blobs.

    Second, you start becoming aware of the negative thought patterns in your mind and how they affect you when you get caught up in them. The truth is, you are reacting to events in your life in a way that is detrimental rather than helpful. Negativity breeds more negativity and keeps you stuck on that hamster wheel.

    I’m not saying it’s easy. I get it. Some days when I’m trying super hard to think positively, my mind says, “Yeah, I don’t care. I am going to feel or think this way anyway, so deal with it.” Some days I simply need to embrace how I feel instead of forcing myself to be positive. But I know I need to eventually shift my mindset or I’ll always be stuck. So, I keep trying. If you can’t change the way you see the world, then the world you see will never change.

    Recently I found myself on the verge of a breakup, a move, a deploying boyfriend, and no job. My head went into a tailspin worrying about what I would do or where I would go and why this was happening. But, with all the work I’ve been doing on myself, I decided to see everything in a new light.

    Maybe this was an opportunity for positive change instead of a devastating loss. I stopped worrying and started believing I would be okay. I was only able to do this because I have been practicing changing my perspective. Think of your mind as a muscle. If you strengthen it and work it out, it becomes stronger. If you let it sit there and wallow in self-pity, it never grows.

    I stopped focusing on the worst-case scenario, and do you know what happened? We didn’t break up. He signed for an apartment us, and I got a job within a week of his departure. I know things won’t always work out how I want them to just because I think positively, but I now believe I will be okay no matter what happens, and that’s making a huge difference.

    The same can be true for you.

    You may face unexpected challenges. We all do. Changing your mindset won’t guarantee that everything will be okay. But it will give you the insight and strength to believe that you will be okay and that you can handle what life dishes up. And it will also help you create a life that feels more fulfilling and less empty.

    The first step in any change is recognition. You can’t change what you don’t acknowledge. Start to notice that you have a negative pattern of thinking that keeps you stuck. I’m guessing you will probably be amazed at how much and how often your mind wanders toward the negative.

    From there, start practicing mindfulness, which basically means you are aware of what you’re thinking, but you don’t get caught up in your thoughts. See if you can separate the negative thoughts from your being. Anyone who has studied meditation will tell you that you can use a technique to distance yourself from your thoughts. Try to place them in a balloon and watch them fly away.

    You are not your thoughts and feelings. You experience thoughts and feelings, but they don’t need to own you. I know this isn’t easy, but it is doable.

    Personally, my mind always sees deficit instead of abundance. Whether this came from years of sexual abuse or family upbringing or genetic coding, I’m not sure, and at this point I don’t really care why. What matters is that I want to change it because it has become exhausting to always be so unsatisfied.

    How Do You Effect All This Change?

    Tony Robbins says that change can happen in an instant, but I think that statement needs a little tweaking. I think the ability to change can happen in an instant. When you decide you want more or you deserve better or you become sick and tired of being sick and tired, then you have now opened the door to change.

    One way to start creating change is to change the words you use to describe how you’re feeling. Our language affects our emotions, and our emotions influence our choices. Tony Robbins offers a 10-Day Challenge that can help with this.

    I love this challenge because it forces you to take a hard, deep look at how you speak to yourself and how you treat yourself daily and even hourly.

    Next, try to cultivate more happiness in your life a little bit at a time. Research has shown that happiness is, in fact, a choice, and although you may have a certain “set point” of happiness, you do have the ability to make yourself happier by doing things like:

    Start meditating.

    Everyone must be spouting the benefits of meditation for a reason, right? Well, studies have shown that meditation can improve our health mentally and physically by reducing stress.

    You don’t have to turn into Buddha and sit under a tree for hours, but even five to ten minutes per day will give you a few moments of insightful reflection and peace. If you’re like me and have a wandering mind, start out with guided meditation because they’ll keep you more focused.

    A few of my favorites are The Honest Guys and Jason Stephenson.

    Begin a gratitude journal.

    Studies have shown that writing down three specific things you are grateful for every day for just twenty-one days will increase your happiness. Tiny Buddha has a great gratitude journal to get you started.

    Volunteer or find a way to help someone.

    Volunteering connects us to other people, and it can give us a sense of purpose. It can also be fun and enjoyable, if you choose something based on your interests, like working with kids in the arts or baking birthday cakes for underprivileged youth. Maybe you love animals but can’t afford one or aren’t home enough to take care of one, but you can take some time to volunteer at an animal shelter and help them find a furever home!

    You can likely find something that interests you at VolunteerMatch.org.

    Get out there and exercise.

    I love endorphins! If you’re type A and have a lot of energy, then the more energy you expend during exercise the happier you’ll be. If you hate the gym (like me), find something you enjoy doing whether it’s walking in the woods, doing yoga in the privacy of your own home, or joining a kayaking team. The options are endless.

    What about becoming a bad-ass by learning Krav Maga or starting martial arts? I mean, who doesn’t want to be as Zen as Bruce Lee?

    Figure out what you’re good at and start doing it.

    We all have strengths, and we feel a lot more fulfilled when we use them instead of sitting around, focusing on our weaknesses. If you’re not sure what your strengths are, take the character strengths survey here.

    Create a social support network.

    They say that people who have at least five strong social connections are the happiest. Many of us feel so lost and alone because we have Facebook connections, but no real or genuine face-to-face interactions with friends on a regular basis. If you’re an introvert it will be hard and you’ll have to work at it, but the reward will be worth it. Meetup is a great place to start.

    Write or scrapbook or create something.

    Being creative opens your mind to new experiences and new possibilities. Color in an adult color book, start a blog, knit, crochet, sculpt or paint, write a children’s book, or journal every night. Medium.com will allow you to publish your writing without starting a formal blog. Get your mind engaged in anything other than thinking!

    —

    Don’t try to do everything at once or you’ll likely become overwhelmed and feel like you’re failing. Pick one thing and do it for a week or ten days, then maybe add another and so on. Every little thing you add will build up like pebbles of sand on the beach, and over time you will have created something beautiful.

    We live in a society that wants immediate gratification, and when we don’t get it we tend to give up and move onto something else and blame the activity for not making us happy. Give it some time, be kind to yourself, take it a step at a time, and slowly you will see progress.

    If you struggle with something you’ve decided to start, shift your focus to one of the other ideas instead of being hard on yourself.

    Example: I signed up for a self-defense class to see if I wanted to join. Of course, I cancelled it before going. I told myself I wasn’t sure if I could afford it right now and I should wait. In part this is true, but in part I dreaded going to the class. However, I’m not going to beat myself up about it. I’ll try some other things right now and then I’ll put myself back out there and try again.

    For now, I re-started meditation, which allows me a few moments to reflect and set new intentions. I’ve also started writing more, which provides a creative outlet and gives me a sense of accomplishment.

    Beyond that, I’m keeping a gratitude journal and started a new exercise program. The gratitude journal is great for helping you focus on the positive rather than the negative, and exercise is a general stress reliever. I’m taking baby steps, and when I’m ready I’ll try something more social. It’s okay to go at your own pace.

    Regardless of what you choose, the point is to live more in the world and less in your head. Just try it.

    I promise there won’t be a day where you say, “Jeez, I wish I didn’t exercise” or “I wish I didn’t go for a walk” or “Helping someone really sucked.” But I guarantee if you don’t do anything you will regret it, and you will wake up one day wondering where your life went and how you got to the place you are. And that, my friend, is not what you want.

    On this day you can choose life. You can choose a new path and things can change.

  • Do You Feel Stuck, Overwhelmed, and Dissatisfied?

    Do You Feel Stuck, Overwhelmed, and Dissatisfied?

    “Everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you’re climbing it.” ~Andy Rooney

    I was born and raised in Louisiana, where food, booze, and fun are the three most important things in most every social situation.

    I had my license at fourteen, my first drink at fifteen, and I knew the owner of the local drive-through daiquiri bar by name. (Miss Billy, in case you were wondering.) It wasn’t out of the ordinary. We all drank a lot on the weekends…who doesn’t?!

    In college, when my parents were going through a divorce, I discovered boxed wine and how to make grilled cheeses on my roommate’s mini George Forman grill. So, like many college kids, I would come home drunk at three in the morning and eat five grilled cheeses.

    Then came the job on Wall Street, where food and alcohol were just part of the territory. Meet clients for drinks. Bond over a fancy dinner. Drink more at the bar after dinner. Eat. Drink. Repeat. Take a load off. Decompress. You get the idea. Life is intense. Period. No question about it.

    Life can be overwhelming and scary, and it can feel like too much to deal with on some days. At times, it can feel easier and quicker to pour another glass of wine, or go shopping, or keep ourselves “busy,” or work nonstop, or eat a pint of ice cream than face the intensity of life. 

    We keep going because we don’t know what will happen if we stop. It can be petrifying to think about how out of sync our lives are sometimes. What would happen if we stopped for a second? Would the lives we have created just crumble around us?

    It was a lot easier for me not to feel how out of alignment I was when I was working on Wall Street because everything looked good on paper, and I really liked certain aspects of my job and life.

    It was also a lot easier for me not to feel that the business I built last year wasn’t exactly what I wanted. It can be easier to ignore the failing relationship, the friends that don’t make you feel good, the job that’s sucking your soul, and so on.

    You might not know what it is, but there’s something that doesn’t feel right. And most of us stay stuck in the dissatisfaction of where we are because we don’t know what to do with those feelings.

    We get caught worrying about figuring it all out and having all the answers. When we don’t know how to change things, we convince ourselves that there’s no way, so we ignore the whispers. And in order to deal with the fact that we’ve ignored the whispers and that our lives sometimes feel okay but aren’t totally great, we pick up something to help us feel better.

    We process the feelings by not actually processing them at all because we never learned how to feel our feelings. Many of us turn to a “safe” solution like wine or food. I never did drugs; that wasn’t my thing. I never had a gambling problem or a shoe addiction. But I did love wine and food. They became a comfort. They became a ritual.

    So this is my story: I was raised Catholic in a Lebanese family in the South. I’m a success-driven, high-achieving woman.

    We drink and we eat; that’s just what we do. And there is nothing wrong with any of that…until there is.

    There’s nothing wrong with drinking wine, eating chocolate, shopping online late at night, or pouring your heart into work you love. What I’m saying is that these things can be dangerous if you use them to cover what you don’t want to feel, or to fill a void in your soul.

    Many of us know there’s something more. We’re ready to feel aligned, purposeful, and driven, but we don’t know how to do that.

    We don’t know what the “something more” is, but we can hear it calling to us.

    I had to quit filling the void with food and wine last year in order to finally find my “something more.” I had to really look at the range of emotions I was feeling, write about them, and allow them to be present, without making them bad or wrong.

    I had to notice my fears and not run from them. I had to learn the difference between thoughts that were helpful and those that were just old programming that I needed to release. I had to learn to notice my thoughts as visitors, not as invited guests. I had to learn that I had a choice in every moment.

    I touched a deep, dark, raw, and beautiful place within myself. I have come out on the other side of this journey more aligned, more purposeful, more driven, and more alive than ever before. This is my one life, and I am now choosing to live it with intention.

    I have a purpose in this lifetime and I need to be an open channel to do the work that I feel inspired to do.

    You can create a sense of purpose too, but you have to be willing to let go of the old and embrace the new.

    Are you willing to say yes to your path even if the road is dusty and dark?

    You won’t always know the answers. You won’t always know “how.” But if you are willing to say yes to the whispers, the road will rise to meet you and your direction will unfold. You must first say yes.

    My life without using wine or food to cover feelings is richer and more abundant and fulfilling than I ever imagined possible. I am free. I am aligned. I am driven. I am in love. I am happy. I am soulful. I am light. I am radiant.

    More than anything, I am here to show you how to access the same connection to your true self so you can show up and do the work that inspires you.

    Try these five steps to get you started.

    1. Ask yourself, “Do my heart and soul feel completely full?”

    If the answer is no, are you willing to say yes to finding your “something more” and to walking your path?

    2. Once you’ve said yes, become aware of how you numb and check out (wine, food, work, etc.).

    You don’t have to get rid of these things, but can you notice when you reach for them?

    3. Recognize your fears without stuffing them down or making them wrong.

    It’s helpful for me to write down my fears without trying to solve them. Something like “I’m scared of…” and then just write for a few minutes.

    4. Remember that the feelings won’t kill you.

    You might feel awesome in the morning and horrible two hours later. Thoughts and feelings come and go. Remember that they don’t define you. The real you is the stillness underneath it all.

    5. Have faith.

    This is a journey. Your path will unfold. Trust that once you say yes, all you have to do is keep your eyes open for the clues. You will be guided if you keep showing up and saying yes.

  • Are You Running Away from Yourself?

    Are You Running Away from Yourself?

    “No matter where you go, there you are.” ~Confucius

    I am accustomed to not moving. To move was to feel pain—the pain of seeing how worthless I believed myself to be. Sometimes I would sit in the same place for hours, sometimes not leaving the house for days.

    By isolating myself, I avoided finding evidence in the outside world that proved how I saw myself was the absolute truth.

    My worst nightmare was that others would show me (through what they said or didn’t say, or what they did or didn’t do) that they too found me as rotten as I knew myself to be.

    And so, I was often left in the privacy of my own dreaded company. My best friends were the little pills that I could rely on to knock me unconscious. I had neither the tolerance nor strength to face myself, and I often chose the easy way out.

    Sedatives, tranquilizers, hypnotics—I lived for them. They provided me respite from the constant agony of my internal voice, which asked, “What’s wrong with me? Why am I so damaged? Why do I hate myself? What have I done to deserve this?” And concluded, “I don’t want to feel again.”

    Sleeping was my only escape. And I did more and more of it. 

    Sometimes I pushed the boundary too far: Like the time when I swallowed enough hypnotics to probably kill a few buffalos. When I simply woke up a few hours later asking for coffee, I lost interest in testing myself that way again.

    But when I started realizing I was losing chunks of memory, I knew I had reached my limit. I would bump into people on the street who talked about a party I was at and I had no memory of ever being there, nor the few days surrounding the event. (more…)

  • Are You Shut Down and Disconnected?

    Are You Shut Down and Disconnected?

    “When we get too caught up in the busyness of the world, we lose connection with one another—and ourselves.” ~Jack Kornfield

    I had to work on Easter at my job in a coffee shop. I missed out on my family’s big holiday party, and I struggled with quite a bit of resentment about the whole deal. I could have gotten someone to cover for me, but because I’m one of the more experienced employees and we were short-staffed, I was told that I needed to work.

    I wasn’t too terribly happy. I came in to work and immediately launched into the craziness of Easter in a coffee shop, sliding Americanos to travelers across the counter with a stone face.

    I was amazed at how unforgiving people were. I thought that Easter would bring out the best in people, but it seemed to make some act grumpier and more disconnected. Many of them weren’t happy for the same reason that people are grumpy at Christmas: They hate spending extended time with family.

    So I slogged through the day, helping grumpy people stay awake on the road to a place where they didn’t want to go, when suddenly a single interaction changed the course of my day: A man came in, greeted us warmly while he ordered his coffee, and then apologized.

    “I’m sorry that you have to work so that schmucks like me can have their coffee.”

    This one sentence transformed my whole day. This guy had gone out of his way to connect with us, and made made me feel both happy and ashamed—happy that there was someone out there who didn’t get too caught up in his own troubles to connect; ashamed that I had fallen into that very trap myself. (more…)