Tiny Buddha

Tag: Peace

  • Accepting Imperfection and Making Peace with Our “Piece in Progress”

    Accepting Imperfection and Making Peace with Our “Piece in Progress”

    The Traveler

    “Being happy doesn’t mean that everything is perfect. It means you’ve decided to look beyond the imperfections.” ~Unknown

    I’m back in New York City after touring for the last five years as a global musical scientist.

    My international and domestic sonic experiments took me all over the world to exotic lands and faraway locales.

    I climbed the Inca Trail for four days straight while combating altitude sickness, learning how to speak at low capacity oxygen levels (imagine Darth Vader), and hemoglobin adaptation became my mantra.

    I also wrote and recorded a number one single in Copenhagen, Denmark. Likewise, I traveled to France, Finland, Russia, and Spain, as well as several national stops: Austin, Texas, DC, Boston, California (twice), and Hawaii, to name a few.

    I even lived with a Costa Rican family and became a real ‘tico’ in San Ramon. Furthermore, I discovered a floating village in Cambodia, talked art science shop in Singapore, and had the backs of my knees lit on fire with moxibustion in Koh Samui, Thailand.

    Sounds glamorous, but in all that life spice the one consistency was myself, and let me tell you, you can really get to you.  

    As wonderfully liberating and bohemian as it was to pick up and play from country to country, from foreign foods, cultures and languages, to random rules, regulations, and rites of passages, it also became a constant struggle to perfect the adventures.

    Naturally, practical fears ensued: How would I finance myself on the road from tour to tour? What would happen if I couldn’t understand the language? How would I be able to reach anyone in the middle of the Amazon?

    But the worst mind chatter came from my own self-doubt: How is this record manifesting given the fact that I have a unfamiliar, makeshift studio instead of my usual recording space? Is this one gigantic failure?

    Does anyone understand what I’m doing or what I mean? Can anyone hear those ambient birds behind the vocal and piano line? Is there even a piano at the next stop? Wait, why am I doing this again? What is a musical scientist?

    I was obsessed with perfection, particularly as it related to my work, and it was starting to take the fun out of my experience.  

    As an artist/scientist hybrid, I usually feel balanced between the creative and logistical, but the need to perfect my experiments started to weigh on the childlike, free, and non-judgmental parts of myself.

    I was striving for my work to be a huge success upon initial conception instead of letting the manifestations of failures become the real magic in process.

    It was during my time in Singapore while visiting a friend that I developed a perspective change to help me combat this uber desire to micromanage my situations.

    With eighteen hours on the plane to think, I began to imagine that we all have a life pie with slices representing certain parts of our life. For instance, each sector could be divided into finance, love, health, relationships, career, and so forth.

    It dawned on me that the majority of the folks I met and had deep conversations with on my travels shared stories of their imperfect piece(s): “I lost my job,” or “She dumped me,” or “I come from a messed up family.”

    It was often easier for people, myself included, to dwell on the missing segment, the piece that didn’t match the others, and focus on trying to tweak the weak.  

    The pattern I recognized was that no soul’s life pie was ever completely maximized, at least not at the same time. There’s always a “piece in progress.” Maybe one, two, perhaps even half the pie didn’t look like the rest.

    I visualized a life pie like a leaky faucet. As soon as you fix one of the spouts, the pressure adjusts to the other side, and pretty soon you’re exhausted trying to Band-Aid all these pressure points.

    I’m reminded of my favorite tale, “The Story of The Golden Buddha,” by Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen.

    To paraphrase, approximately 300 years ago, the Burmese army planned to invade Thailand.

    Thai monks had an incredibly gorgeous golden Buddha statue within their monastery and wanted to protect their treasured possession during the attack, so they covered the statue with dirt, clay, and sticks.

    As the Burmese pressed into Thailand, they killed all the monks, but left the precious Buddha be, as it was disguised.

    During the mid 1950s, the monastery was relocated to make way for city developments, and as the monks began moving the Buddha, the clay began to crack and fall to the floor. Only then, after all that time, did the gold underneath begin to shine.

    To me, the tale’s a constant reminder that we, like the golden Buddha, spend too much precious time cloaking ourselves with mud in the form of societal coding, personal pressures, and expectations deeply fixed in fear.  

    But, by accepting these self-perceived shortcomings as part of the bigger picture, we realize that we each have our own labyrinth as we go through life. This is how we learn life’s lessons, slowly revealing more of our golden uniqueness.

    If we obsess about perfection, we’ll just stay stagnant and idle instead of moving forward with our pieces in progress, allowing them to be part of the journey toward self-realization.

    Even the gravitationally bound system consisting of stars, dust, and matter that constitutes our universe has endless imperfections, such as windstorms, black holes, and galactic hurricanes.

    If we, as humans, are living in this totality of existence rooted in chaos, we can only expect to mirror it. Understanding that there’s nothing wrong with us for having imperfect life pies can help us make peace with our piece in progress—and ourselves.

    Photo by Matteo.Mazzoni

  • The Secret to Getting Along With Your Parents

    The Secret to Getting Along With Your Parents

    Family

    “My experience is that the teachers we need most are the people we’re living with right now.” ~Byron Katie

    Nothing hurts like being misunderstood, and there is no place that this feeling runs rampant quite like it does with family.

    I used to think I was the only one.

    For years after I moved out, each visit back home would be preceded by careful, specific preparation. I would try to brace myself for whatever would be coming my way.

    I would spend the entire two-hour bus ride turning all of the possible criticisms and probable arguments over and over in my head. I would rehearse ways I could react to various imagined scenarios.

    I thought preparing myself would soften the blows. It didn’t.

    Ram Dass once said, “If you think you are enlightened, go and spend a week with your parents.”

    Imagine my embarrassment and hopelessness at thinking I’d finally cracked the secrets of peace and happiness, only to find myself welling up with the same old anger and resentment each time I faced my closest relatives.

    Even after I began a journey of personal and spiritual growth, visits back home were toxic.

    I would prepare. I’d show up. They would judge me. I’d react. Then, I would judge myself for letting their judgment get to me. Then, they’d judge me for letting it get to me. Then, I’d judge them for judging me. It would be a giant, exhausting mess.

    Each time I returned home, I would be exhausted and wondering how I’d ever lived with these people in the first place.

    One day, in the midst of recovering from such a visit, I found myself in an intimate conversation with a friend about beauty. She shared with me how she sometimes felt so disgusted by her reflection that she could hardly function.

    I empathized, letting her know that I had suffered with that severity of self-hatred for close to ten years.

    I said, “You know what I’ve learned? It wasn’t my reflection that was hurting me. It was my expectation that, every time I looked in the mirror, I would discover someone else, some other person who wasn’t me. Jennifer Aniston maybe? But Jennifer Aniston never showed up. It was always just same, old me. That was what really hurt—the expectation that was never met.”

    Immediately after the words poured out of my mouth, my mind lit on fire.

    I realized, with stark clarity, that the same relationship I used to have with my reflection, I was having with my parents. I kept showing up, time after time, expecting different people to magically appear.

    I kept expecting that they would change.

    When I told my partner about my epiphany later that evening, he looked amused. I asked him why he was smiling like that.

    He told me, “This is what I’ve been trying to tell you. I’ve definitely said this to you. Many times! You’ve said it to me too!”

    I was surprised, but not for long. I thought about my relationship with myself and how I’d heard messages of self-love, self-acceptance, and self-forgiveness, but it took me years to truly internalize them. Maybe that’s how it was with my parents. It wasn’t that I didn’t know the answer. I just had to be ready to experience it.

    The next time I went home, it was like a whole new world. I didn’t brace myself for criticism, nor did I plan my words. I just showed up with the assumption that, maybe, they would never change.

    This simple belief completely transformed my relationship with them. Suddenly, I could see them for who they were. They were, and always will be, flawed and beautiful, just like me.

    I could suddenly smile at their criticism and laugh at their judgment. I could embrace them even if they didn’t feel like embracing me. I could understand them even if they misunderstood me.

    I used to think that people who had good relationships with their parents had perfect parents.

    That’s just not true.

    People who get along with their parents have just as many family conflicts as anyone else. They just choose to accept those conflicts as part of life, and love their kin anyway.

    For me, learning to accept my family, just as they are, opened up new doors of opportunity.

    Right after I started practicing understanding and acceptance toward them, I got the inspiration to work on a book. I got the passion to start my own business. I got the courage to speak my message loudly.

    All these things happened within a few months of my epiphany, and I can’t pretend that the timing was a coincidence.

    I honestly believe that our expectations of our families, our own judgments about them, hold us back in ways we can’t even imagine. I honestly believe that, if you can learn to love your parents, just as they are, you’ll unlock boundless potential within you. I truly believe that this is the one missing piece that most people don’t realize is missing.

    Of course, it’s not easy. Nothing worth having is easy, but it’s always simple.

    And this is my simple message, today and forever: accept and allow. That is the path toward peace, love, and serenity.

    Photo by pilostic

  • How to Keep Our Thoughts from Making Us Miserable

    How to Keep Our Thoughts from Making Us Miserable

    Dark Clouds

    “Nothing is either good or bad but thinking makes it so.” ~William Shakespeare

    I thought I knew what happiness was. I experienced it, and did so for a while—that is, what I thought was happiness.

    What I was calling happiness was merely an emotion. Emotions, feelings that arise in the body, come into existence when we have thoughts related to them.

    When I have certain thoughts having to do with anger, then I will feel, actually physically feel, angry. When I have thoughts that are positive, then I will feel the feeling, or emotion, that we call happiness.

    In the past, whenever I felt that feeling, I thought, well I am happy. And how sweet it was. The world seemed perfect, in harmony; nothing needed to change. And I felt it most of the time. When I did, everything was good. But then the feeling would leave. The world wouldn’t seem so balanced or peaceful anymore.

    The feeling would be gone, and I wouldn’t know why.

    I would be able to guess why—maybe I had spent a lot of money recently and didn’t have much left, or a relationship with a woman I liked a lot ended, or maybe I was feeling fearful of the future for whatever reason. I would guess that things like these were the reasons for my lack of happiness.

    I looked closely at my mind. I tried to figure out the patterns. But they weren’t so clear-cut. Sometimes, good things were happening in my life, yet I didn’t feel happy. And then sometimes when things weren’t go so well for some reason, I felt that everything was all right.

    It didn’t make sense. To add to the mess, I couldn’t always control if things were going well or not. Sometimes, I did everything I could, the same things I did when I was happy, and yet the feeling of happiness would escape me. The patterns escaped me until I read an article that told me to look toward thought.

    I looked at what impact my thinking had on my happiness. The article suggested that the thoughts arising in my head were only thoughts and to let them quiet softly.

    I practiced this and new patterns emerged.

    This time, the patterns were easy to see. Every time I was down, it was because I was thinking so much. The voice in my head would ramble uncontrollably, and I would listen to everything as if it were fact.

    The thoughts would pressure me to live and act in a way that would benefit me in the future. They would focus on things I needed to do, things that I wanted, things that would make me happy if I did or attained them.

    They would tell me that I was uncomfortable, to change this, to change that; when I was driving, to drive fast so I could hurry up and get to where I was going; when somebody said something mean, the thoughts would be about how awful this person was.

    But sometimes I would meditate. I’d become aware that thoughts are only thoughts and let them quiet.

    I set time to meditate, but also I tried to do it when I was amongst the regular activities of my life. When I would do this, there would be a period of time when my thoughts became slower, less loud, and they didn’t seem so important that I needed to listen and obey them at all costs.

    Those were the times when I was happiest.

    But then again there were some times in my life when things were going really well. I was on fire. I was killing it in my career; I had good relationships with friends and a woman I came to love. Everything was great. When things went well, I would feel happy for sure.

    I had a hunch, however, that I shouldn’t get too happy just because things were going well. I knew that they could easily change, and they would often; and when things weren’t going great, I would feel miserable. I didn’t want my happiness to become dependent on the circumstances of my life.

    Still, it was hard. The way things were going made me feel happy or didn’t. I couldn’t help it. They would bring about the way I felt.

    When I looked closely, I saw that this was because my thoughts reflected how I was doing. I realized that however I was doing, if I let go of the thoughts about the circumstances of my life, the feelings would go away. I tried to do this even when things were going well and I felt happy.

    I did this because I felt that the happiness that came from the times when I quieted and slowed my thoughts was deeper and more complete than happiness based on my circumstances. It felt more real and less easily shaken.

    And so that brings us to the present. I still struggle to stay centered and avoid becoming connected to my thoughts.

    I try not to focus my energy on making sure things are going well, but I still struggle with this too. When things do go well, I feel happy, but I try not to get too excited about that happiness. I have seen circumstances change in my life so often that it seems silly to be too caught up in them.

    I see others who seem to be going through the same cycles. They seem to get wrapped up in their thoughts, which affects their moods. I see friends whose normal states of mind I know, but when they get caught up in what is going on in their lives and start thinking about it too much, they seem to morph into different people.

    We are all in the same boat. We all have this struggle to stay centered instead of responding emotionally to life in a way that pulls us from the present moment.

    But if we can try to remember that our thoughts are just thoughts, they will fade away and grow silent, and we’ll be filled with a deep feeling of peace and joyousness.

    Photo by Visit Greenland

  • Learning to Forgive Our Imperfect Parents for Their Mistakes

    Learning to Forgive Our Imperfect Parents for Their Mistakes

    Parents

    TRIGGER WARNING: This post deals with an account of physical abuse and may be triggering to some people.

    “Children begin by loving their parents; as they grow older they judge them; sometimes they forgive them.” ~Oscar Wilde

    I couldn’t tell you if Oscar Wilde’s quote is entirely accurate. You see, my biological parents abandoned me and left me with my grandparents at birth.

    Growing up with grandma and grandpa was the best childhood I could have ever imagined, and I didn’t miss my biological parents at all. I guess in that sense they were my parents, and perhaps Oscar Wilde’s point is correct.

    However, my biological parents eventually came back. During the summer before my fourteenth birthday, my parents came and took me “home.”

    I didn’t know much about my new parents, but within a few days here’s what I did know…

    Mom and Dad didn’t love each other.

    They argued every single day, putting each other down in ways no child should ever hear. Their unhappiness toward one another would often times escalate from verbal abuse to physical fighting, and when their fight was over, the final punishment always landed on me.

    Perhaps it was because I couldn’t stand seeing the anger, violence, and sadness. I couldn’t stand seeing my father beat up my mother, so I would get into the middle of their arguments to stop the fight, even if it meant getting beat up myself.

    The days and nights were filled with chaos. I felt like I was walking on eggshells, not knowing when one parent was going to explode and punish me for their bad marriage. My fear turned into anger, and the anger brewed to a boil inside me. I couldn’t continue living like this.

    Arguments and beatings went on for years until I finally collapsed and I ran away from home.

    As expected, both my parents disowned me the moment I left the house.

    In fact, my mother was so mad she didn’t even allow me to come back and pick up any of my belongings. At seventeen years of age, I left to start a new life with my backpack and one set of clothes.

    When I left home I was still in high school. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but the risk of going back was far greater. I made up my mind and there was no way I could ever go back. To me, our relationship was over.

    Luckily, my best friend’s parents opened their door to me. They let me stay in their home until I graduated high school. I got a part-time job to help contribute. Things were looking up, but inside I was building resentment and blame toward my parents for putting me in this situation.

    For years after high school graduation and into college, I continued to blame my parents for not having enough food to eat, clothes to wear, and somewhere to belong.

    I blamed them for everything.

    I had made a promise to never talk to them again, and I kept that promise for seven long years. But as time passed and life experiences taught me new lessons, I learned that resentment and blame were emotions that hold and push you down, never to let go.

    Like it or not, it was time for me to let go and forgive.

    I’m not going to say it was easy, nor am I going to say I didn’t have doubts throughout the entire process.

    But I eventually learned to stop blaming my parents for my life. It was like a load of bricks was off my back. I was finally free from this emotion that I had carried with me and which had shaped my life for so long.

    Learning to let go and forgive taught me that:

    Parents also hurt.

    Sometimes we forget that our parents have lived a life and have had struggles too. We don’t always know about their pains and sorrows. I see now that I have the ability to help them overcome and grow.

    No one is perfect.

    We’re not perfect, so why expect our parents to be? Parents make mistakes too. Of course violence is not excusable, but people make mistakes, and we cannot hold a grudge forever.

    Forgive them.

    It wasn’t easy for me to forgive my parents, but forgiving them gave me peace in my heart. When we hold anger inside of us, we’re the ones that get hurt the most.

    Take the initiative.

    I wanted a relationship with my parents, and so it was I who needed to take the first step and reach out to them. We have to be the ones to step up and harvest it, otherwise, who ever will?

    Build trust.

    Rebuilding trust when there was none (or very little) to begin with is a difficult process that’s going to take time. There’s no secret or shortcut. Get right into it and start by being honest with one another, even if it hurts.

    Stop judging.

    I would always ask myself why they couldn’t be better and listen, care, and love. I had to learn to accept them for who they were. As soon as I was able to accept them as my parents, and accept them for who they were, I was able to accept myself for who I was.

    In the end, all you can do is try. There are no guarantees.

    Before making the decision to call I prepared myself as best as I could for total rejection, and at the same time I defined what a win would look like—what could happen that would make it all worth it. All I could hope for was a small token of reciprocation.

    So, after seven years I picked up the phone and called my parents. We shared a thirty-minute phone call, first with my dad and lastly with my mom. To my surprise, there was no anger, just sadness. They listened more than they spoke, and I could feel that they were hurt because they had hurt me.

    I could see that they had changed, and perhaps it was only then that they were ready for this call.

    I hung up and could feel a sense of relief take over, and I knew this was only the beginning.

    I realize now that change must go both ways. And, if your parents are still abusive and are not ready, or are not willing to be ready, then you must go on with your life. Your life cannot wait.

    Today my parents and I have an open relationship. It’s still a work in progress, but I believe it’s something worth working for. We all have changed for the better, and I am certain this was how it had to be.

    I forgive them for all they did and accept them for who they are.

    If you have resentment toward your parents, what’s preventing you from forgiving them?

    Photo by Belezza87

  • We’re Not Against Each Other: Choosing Cooperation Over Competition

    We’re Not Against Each Other: Choosing Cooperation Over Competition

    Holding Hands

    “If you light a lamp for someone else, it will also brighten your path.” ~Buddha

    It’s long been declared that the nature of life is based on survival of the fittest; that we all must constantly compete to survive.

    And maybe, in some ways this is true.

    But what if there were another truth, something that is even more powerful than competition?

    What if cooperation is our true natural state?

    Consider this: love is more powerful than hate.

    Hope is more powerful than fear.

    And if we believe in love and hope, then we believe in the power of unity. We believe in the force of positive energy.

    In my own life, I have experienced the power of cooperation. I know how much better life feels when I choose to work with rather than against the people in my world.

    When I am willing to find ways to communicate, to release blame and criticism, to connect with the people I share this life with, I open myself to more joy and ease.

    When I slip into the mindset of competing with my husband for who has more free time, or who has contributed more to our family, or who has initiated more acts of kindness, I feel detached, separate, and pretty horrible.

    This is the underlying effect of competition; we envision ourselves as separate. We lose touch with our interconnectedness, our wholeness, our oneness.

    I notice this with my children. When my girls are expressing angst toward one another, I recognize that their antagonistic behavior is not so much about being mean or hateful, but rather a request for attention.

    They each want to know that they matter, that they are a valuable part of their family, that they are connected with the people upon whom they rely for nurturing.

    It seems to me that perhaps competitive nature is not so much the natural state of being, but rather a result of feeling disconnected from the security and certainty of being part of something greater than ourselves.

    I think, in fact, that cooperation is our true nature. We must work together to survive, to thrive, to grow, to evolve.

    Not one of us is an island; we know this for sure. But how often do we contemplate the interconnectedness of our lives with every other thing on this planet—even with those from the past and those who will exist in the future?

    In the culture where I live, I have seen the idolization of independence, the heralding of the individual as paramount above community, the applause given to those who stand out. 

    Many claim that these individuals have made their own success and become who they are because of their tenacity and brilliance. And yes, there is something to be said about focus and determination.

    But even more, we must recognize that an individual’s success is the result of being part of community.

    Malcolm Gladwell explained this so eloquently in Outliers: The Story of Success, “No one—not rock stars, not professional athletes, not software billionaires, and not even geniuses—ever makes it alone.”

    The truth is, we are all connected, and this really is a good thing.

    As a mama who practices attachment parenting, I have long believed that creating a strong bond between parent and child is essential to building a foundation of trust, security, and confidence. I did not ever consider that this attachment theory can be expanded to include all of our relationships.

    Recently I read Hold Me Tight, by Dr. Sue Johnson, in which she clearly elucidates how vital it is for humans to create and nurture attachments to the people in our lives. In fact, these attachments are absolutely essential to our wellness, our ability to thrive, our very existence.

    In her writing, Dr. Johnson shatters the notion that being attached to someone, whether a partner, a parent, a child, or a friend, is a negative or weak state of being. Attachment theory teaches us that relying on someone for support and love is the essence of our nature.

    Some wonder if being attached may cause us to suffer, but if we are able and willing to let go of relationships when they run their course, attachment does not have to lead to suffering. Honoring the essential nature of change in our lives will help us surrender to releasing a relationship when the time is right.

    No matter what, it’s good, even necessary, to be attached to others.

    Cooperation truly is our natural state of being.

    This is not to say that competition does not have its place in our experience. Sometimes a competitive attitude can be useful, but for the progress of life on our planet, we must learn to embrace a new truth: we are one.

    Truly, the more we learn to attach to others, to rely openheartedly on our community, to accept our interconnectedness with grace and joy, the more we will thrive as we move forward.

    I remember watching Tom Shadyac’s revolutionary film I Am a few years back and being so moved and excited. This brilliant documentary unveils the truth that even in nature, there is an innate sense of cooperation among animals.

    The film reminds us that as we choose unity, we elevate the energy and consciousness of life on our planet. We give ourselves an opportunity to live in greater harmony with our environment and with one another.

    I know this may be challenging for some to accept. There are many individuals in my life who absolutely disagree with me. And that’s okay, too. Still, I know what I believe. And I release the need to be right. Instead, I invite us all to question what we believe and to ponder what could be rather than what has been.

    So even though a dear relative recently expressed to me that competition will always be the nature of life, that aggression and violence are the most basic actions of all creatures on the planet, that we must know how to protect ourselves in order to stay alive in the midst of any chaos that could ensue from natural disasters…

    I still believe in unity.

    I recognize that the way humans have existed (for the most part) up until this point has been competitive in nature. We have compared, judged, struggled, oppressed, conquered, and still we strive. And yet, there have also been moments of grace and inspiration throughout time.

    Consider the gracious and giving heart of Mother Teresa, the desire to free people from the belief of separateness that MLK, Jr. heralded, of Gandhi’s willingness to put others before his own needs.

    Even consider the everyday people who are living from a place of love—people all over the world are awakening and elevating their consciousness, choosing to be of service, to give, to embody pure love.

    I see it in the communities flourishing around me where people exchange time rather than money for services.

    I see it in the way organizations are shifting their paradigm of business to make giving back a priority.

    I see it in the countless people coming together who recognize the value of caring for our environment and our planet.

    I see it in the kindness people express with a smile as they pass one another on the street.

    Cooperation is anything and everything that helps us feel connected, part of something meaningful. It can be a thought, a touch, a glance, an act, a memory. There are infinite ways of being in this world. Imagine if we made being kind the most important.

    In his interview about the most astounding fact in his studies of astrophysics, Dr. Neil DeGrasse Tyson stated, “We all just want to be part of something bigger than us, to feel that sense of connectivity…”

    And I agree. Life is meaningful when we share it with others.

    So I ask you this: What could happen if we transform our reality, even just our perception of it?

    What could happen if we embody the practice of cooperation? Of giving and receiving with an open heart. Of feeling good enough just as we are. Of practicing kindness. Of sharing love. Of truly being the change we wish to see in the world.

    Most of us want to live in a world where peace prevails, but are we actually practicing peace in our lives?

    Are we aware of when we think critically or judgmentally, about others or ourselves?

    Are we aware of when we pull away from the people we love the most out of anger or fear or frustration?

    And once we raise our awareness, can we embrace a willingness to change and transform our lives from the inside out?

    I invite you to join me on this journey. To choose to see life through the eyes of love. To choose joy and hope over anger and fear. To truly illuminate the light shining brightly within you.

    I dare you. Be a revolutionary. Embrace peace and love and unity.

    I’m right here next to you.

    I believe in us—the daring dreamers, the visionaries, the joy seekers, the love creators.

     

  • Why Forgiveness Is a Gift to Yourself and How to Release the Past

    Why Forgiveness Is a Gift to Yourself and How to Release the Past

    “Forgiveness does not change the past but it does enlarge the future.” ~Paul Boese

    On a snowy winter day in the dark month of January, I got hit by a car. My left leg was immediately amputated. A darkness started growing in my seventeen-year-old heart that day.

    Harvey was the man driving the car that hit me.

    Because of Harvey’s decisions, I didn’t have my leg. Because of Harvey, I walked in pain. Because of Harvey, I lost my confidence as an attractive woman.

    At the trial two years later, Harvey and I weren’t allowed to talk to each other. I saw him at the defendant’s table with his head cast down in shame. He never looked me in the eye. In fact, Harvey never apologized to me.

    I was a strong woman who didn’t let my disability keep me down. I tried to pretend that I was as capable as two-legged people. I learned how to ski, kayak, rock climb, backpack, scuba dive, and sky dive.

    I spent just as much energy stuffing my anger, depression, and grief. I was terrified that, if given half a chance, they would eat me alive.

    I felt like two women. The one the world saw was capable, strong, independent, and inspirational. The other woman I reserved for myself. She was sad, insecure, and boiling with anger.

    During my twenties, I had three significant romantic relationships. Although each one of those men told me how amazing I was and how much they loved me, none of them wanted to marry me. I assumed it was because of my leg.

    Harvey took marriage from me as well.

    When I was truly honest with myself, I had a vague understanding that my depression and anger, which I usually expressed inappropriately, could have contributed to my failed relationships. I decided it was time for counseling.

    Therapy was a time for me to finally grieve. I realized how fear controlled me and how post-traumatic stress dictated my life. I started to understand the magnitude of my negative feelings—toward the Universe, toward life, and toward Harvey.

    Over many months, I learned appropriate ways to express sadness, anger, and resentment. My emotions didn’t eat me alive as I had feared. Actually, I became alive when I started to truly feel them.

    On the fifteenth anniversary of the accident, I was alone in my apartment, nursing my depression with some wine. My thoughts turned to Harvey. Did he know what today was? Does he remember me? Then I was struck by a bolt of brilliance. I’ll call him!

    If he isn’t going to call me to apologize, then I’ll call him and rub it in his face how he ruined my life.

    I didn’t think twice. I jumped up off the couch, found his number, and dialed. The phone rang once. Twice. Five times. I ended up leaving a message.

    At work the next day I could hardly concentrate, and by the time I got home from work, I was a bundle of nerves. Would he call?

    And then the phone rang.

    “Hi Colleen, this is Harvey.”

    I screamed at him, “Do you know who I am? Do you know what yesterday was?”

    “Oh yes,” he said through his sobs. “I remember you. I think about you all the time.”

    My heart lurched. He thought about me all the time? Then why didn’t he contact me?

    Harvey and I conversed and connected and ended the call with an agreement to meet.

    In preparation for our visit, I spent a number of sessions with my therapist preparing to give Harvey a verbal lashing. I was ready to shame him for what he had done to me.

    When the day finally came, Harvey and I saw each other across the hotel lobby. Tears welled up in his eyes as he walked toward me.

    “Hello Colleen,” his arms opened wide. “Can I give you a hug?” What? You want me to give you a hug? Wouldn’t a good chest beating be more appropriate? The nice girl in me gave him a hug.

    During the four hours we spent together, instead of screaming at him for everything he had taken from me, I listened. I heard how the accident happened from his perspective—and he heard how it happened from mine.

    We rehashed every moment leading up to the impact and, in doing so, we realized that, given all the same conditions, given our mutual naiveté, if placed in the same position again, we may very well make the same decisions.

    I listened as he talked about how his life was impacted by the accident. He was just a twenty-one-year-old married guy at the time of the accident. Afterward, anytime he saw someone who reminded him of me, he broke down and cried—or became mean. His marriage suffered; he and his wife eventually divorced.

    At the end of the visit, when Harvey and I parted, I gave him a hug. That time I wanted to.

    Back home, when I realized I was able to see the situation through Harvey’s eyes, I felt a freedom I had never known before.

    When I made the choice to let go of the past and forgive Harvey, I felt empowered. I didn’t see it then, but looking back I can see that when I harbored bitter feelings toward Harvey, I was hurting myself more than anyone.

    Harvey and I saw each other a year later when I was visiting his town for a conference. While at dinner, instead of re-hashing the accident again, we talked about our lives. We came to the table ready to pick each other up off that roadway that had held us captive for so long.

    I don’t think it’s a coincidence that just a year later I finally met the man who would become my husband. We married a year later and soon started our family. When I was able to let go of the past, I was finally able to create the future I had always wanted.

    Do my bitter feelings and resentments still surface? Absolutely. But now I don’t allow them to define me as a victim. I allow them to remind me to forgive. Again. And again. And again.

    I’ve learned that forgiveness is a journey. When our heart becomes too heavy with the burden of our bitterness, there are distinguishable steps we can take that lead us to inner peace.

    What about you? Is there something in your past that is hard to forgive? Do you want to let this go? Do you want to live more fully into your potential by releasing the past? If so, try these steps:

    1. Acknowledge your feelings related to the situation and actually feel them.

    Move through them. For fifteen years anger, depression, resentment, and bitterness were subversive hijackers of my life. Once I learned how to acknowledge and feel these emotions, they not only lost their power, they subsided.

    2. See the situation from the other person’s perspective.

    Our myopic view of the situation keeps us stuck in the past. If possible, have a conversation with your perpetrator. If that’s not possible, imagine the situation from your perpetrator’s point of view. What story can you tell that might explain the situation from his or her perspective?

    3. Release your bitter feelings.

    Remember, you were not born angry, sad, or vindictive. Let go of these accumulations and allow yourself to return to your pure humanity.

    4. Make the choice to forgive.

    Yes, forgiveness is a choice. It doesn’t just happen. And you may need to forgive a transgression again and again until that becomes your new normal.

    Forgiveness is not about condoning another’s actions. When forgiving another, we are not absolving them of restitution. Forgiveness isn’t even about the other person. The choice to forgive is always a gift we give ourselves.

    Photo by Okinawa Steve

  • Where Peace Begins

    Where Peace Begins

    Peace Begins with a Smile

    Source: Daily Dose

  • How to Wake up Every Morning on Top of The World

    How to Wake up Every Morning on Top of The World

    “You get peace of mind not by thinking about it or imagining it, but by quietening and relaxing the restless mind.” ~Remez Sasson

    What’s the first thought that goes through your head when you wake up in the morning? Is it deliberate, or is it the default “Oh shi#$, it’s 6:00!”?

    If that’s how you start your day, then it’s likely your day will be filled with anxiety and stress. It’s not exactly the most productive mechanism for getting things done.

    Questions are quite powerful if used in the right way. (more…)

  • Dealing with Depression: 10 Ways to Feel Positive and Peaceful

    Dealing with Depression: 10 Ways to Feel Positive and Peaceful

    “Once you choose hope, anything is possible.” ~Christopher Reeve

    I have suffered from depression since I was a teenager. My experiences have also caused severe post-traumatic stress disorder.

    My father has been abandoning me for my whole life. As a teenager, I went to live with him because my relationship with my mother was so difficult. He sexually abused me for the year that I lived with him.

    At the age of seventeen, I sought solace by turning to what I thought was God. For the next twenty-eight years I held a set of beliefs that were angry and judgmental and made me feel cut off from others, including my family and those in my own church.

    Because of my experiences with my father and the church, I had a hard time living in the moment and enjoying life. I lived with low self-esteem and had trouble establishing healthy boundaries in relationships, which caused me to continue to create painful interactions with others.

    When I was forty-five years old, I sought relief from my depression and loneliness through self-help books. I quickly found my way to author and publisher Louise Hay and began my journey of enlightenment and healing.

    Over the last couple of years, through therapy and continued reading, I have discovered some tools to help me feel more positive, peaceful, and joyful. I notice when I use them consistently, I recover faster from periods of depression. Perhaps they will help you, too, when you are feeling depressed.

    1. Focus on self-love.

    Some ways to do that are: be patient and compassionate with yourself, release perfectionist standards, remind yourself of all your wonderful qualities and talents, and give yourself praise and encouragement.

    Doing a self-love meditation is especially comforting and uplifting for me. I talk to myself like I would to someone else that I want to express love to. It feels amazing to give myself what I want and need.

    2. Listen to your inner child, without resistance.

    Allow her to feel and express what she is going through and grieve when she needs to. Let him know that you are always there to listen and to love him.

    When my inner child feels angry, I validate and soothe her. I let her know that she deserves to have relationships that feel good and have healthy boundaries within them.

    3. Notice how you feel in your body when you are upset.

    As you observe your unpleasant sensations, name them. For instance, I feel heaviness in my chest, I feel like crying, my arms are warm, my head feels like it’s going to explode, my stomach hurts, my muscles are tight.

    As you simply allow your sensations to be, you will notice that they start to dissipate on their own. Try it. You will be amazed.

    When I do this exercise, I may also notice the thoughts that are causing the troubling sensations. I have learned that in spite of my unpleasant sensations, I can still hold a positive thought or belief and when I do, I feel better.

    So, I may say something like this to myself, “In spite of all of these unpleasant sensations, I know that things can work out the way that I want them to.”

    4. Ask someone else for what you need.

    One day I was feeling very disconnected from others, so I called a friend of mine and asked if she had time to come by and give me a hug. She said she loves hugs and she came over for a short visit to give me one, which gave me the sense of connection that I needed and wanted to feel.

    Here are some examples of things you might ask for: a massage, a favor, someone to listen to you or to help you problem-solve, or a date with your partner or a friend or family member.

    Something I do on a regular basis is ask the Universe for a gift. I always get what is perfect for me at that time. Sometimes a wonderful new thought fills my mind and lifts me up or I receive guidance on an important issue, and other times I receive an unexpected monetary gift or an interaction with someone that makes me feel loved or appreciated.

    5. Participate in enjoyable activities to help you get out of your head and into the present moment.

    Some things you can do are: meditate, spend time with (or call) a friend or family member, read, do a hobby that you love, listen to music, take a hot bath, watch your favorite television show or a movie, or treat yourself to something you have been wanting.

    Spending time in nature helps me to ground myself in the present moment. It gives me an inexplicable peace and joy that surprises and rejuvenates me. I love going to the lake or for a walk or sitting on my porch, which has a beautiful view of the most wonderful trees.

    6. Focus on the thought “All things are possible.”

    You don’t have to know how you will receive your desires and you don’t have to figure anything out. Just rest, knowing that the possibilities will unfold.

    I specifically remind myself that it is possible for me to: feel well physically and emotionally, be fulfilled and prosperous, and have love, joy, and peace in my life. When I do this, I sometimes get excited as I anticipate the changes and miracles to come.

    7. Use a visualization to release your painful thoughts.

    In your mind’s eye, place negative thoughts on leaves and watch them gently float away downstream, or place the troubling words on cars of a freight train and watch them zoom away.

    When I do these exercises, I place distance between myself and what is bothering me, and I feel lighter.

    8. Practice gratitude for the good times.

    Notice when you are not depressed and take the time to be fully present in those moments and appreciate them. Notice how it feels in your body to not be depressed.

    Now that I am more aware of when I am feeling good, when depression hits, I know that I am not always depressed. I acknowledge that this too shall pass.

    9. Be productive.

    Sometimes what you need to get out of the pit of depression is to be productive. You may get depressed because you are not getting important things done, or you may be depressed and therefore not get important things done. In both of these cases, productivity may make you feel good about yourself and lift your mood significantly.

    When I feel depressed, I don’t feel like doing anything. So, I tell myself, “In spite of how I feel in my body and these upsetting thoughts, I am going to wash my dishes (or any other activity) anyway.” Once I get one thing done, I feel a sense of accomplishment and am usually motivated to get other things done.

    10. Let love in.

    Surround yourself with positive and loving people and healthy relationships. I remind myself that I deserve to have relationships that feel good and nourishing to me. I may give myself space in certain relationships and release others that are not working for me.

    I remember that people do love me, even if they don’t show it the way that I want. I know they are doing the best they can, and if they don’t love themselves, then they are not going to know how to love me. I forgive them for the ways they have hurt me or let me down, and that gives me some peace.

    I consistently practice using my tools when I feel depressed and I know that the saying “practice makes perfect” is not true. My human self will never be perfect, and that is okay.

    Not all of my tools will work every time to help me move through depression. Sometimes I use just one tool and other times, I use additional ones. I listen to myself so I will know each time what I need. And you can do the same.

    *This post represents one person’s personal experience and advice. If you’re struggling with depression and nothing seems to help, you may want to contact a professional. 

  • How to Respond to Negative People Without Being Negative

    How to Respond to Negative People Without Being Negative

    “Don’t let the behavior of others destroy your inner peace.” ~Tenzin Gyatso, 14th Dalai Lama

    A former coworker seemed to talk non-stop and loudly, interrupt incessantly, gossip about whomever wasn’t in the room, constantly complain, and live quite happily in martyrdom.

    It seemed nothing and no one escaped her negative spin. She was good at it. She could twist the happiest moment of someone’s life into a horrendous mistake. She seemed to enjoy it, too.

    At first, my judgmental mind thought her behavior was quite inappropriate. I simply didn’t approve of it. But after weeks of working with her, the thought of spending even one more moment in her presence sent me into, well, her world.

    Her negativity was infectious. More and more, I found myself thinking about her negativity, talking with others about her negativity, and complaining about her constant negativity.

    For a while, though, I listened to her whenever she followed me into the lunchroom or the ladies’ room. I didn’t know what to say, or do, or even think. I was held captive.

    I’d excuse myself from the one-sided chit-chat as soon as possible, wanting to someday be honest enough to kindly tell her that I choose not to listen to gossip. Instead, I chose avoidance. I avoided eye contact, and any and all contact. Whenever I saw her coming, I’d get going and make for a quick getaway. I worked hard at it, too.

    And it was exhausting because whether I listened to her or not, or even managed to momentarily escape her altogether, I was still held captive by her negativity.

    I interacted with her only a handful of times a month, but her negative presence lingered in my life. And I didn’t like it. But what I didn’t like didn’t really matter—I wanted to look inside myself to come up with a way to escape, not just avoid, a way to just let go of the hold this negativity had on me.

    When I did look within, I saw that I was the one exaggerating the negative.

    I chose to keep negativity within me even when she wasn’t around. This negativity was mine. So, as with most unpleasant things in life, I decided to own up and step up, to take responsibility for my own negativity.

    Instead of blaming, avoiding, and resisting the truth, I would accept it. And, somehow, I would ease up on exaggerating the negative.

    I welcomed the situation as it was, opening up to the possibilities for change within me and around her.

    I knew all about the current emotional fitness trends telling us to surround ourselves with only happy, positive people and to avoid negative people—the us versus them strategy for better emotional health. I saw this as disconnecting, though.

    We all have times when we accentuate the positive and moments when we exaggerate the negative. We are all connected in this.

    Instead of continuing to disconnect, to avoid being with negativity while denying my own, I wanted to reconnect, with compassion and kindness toward both of us.

    She and I shared in this negativity together. And once I made the connection and saw our connection, a few simple and maybe a little more mindful thoughts began to enter my mind and my heart. This reconnection would be made possible through love.

    And these simple little, love-induced thoughts spoke up something like this:

    • Patience can sit with negativity without becoming negative, rushing off to escape, or desiring to disconnect from those who choose negativity. Patience calms me.
    • While I’m calm, I can change the way I see the situation. I can see the truth. Instead of focusing on what I don’t like, I can see positive solutions. I can deal with it.
    • I can try to see the situation from the other person’s perspective. Why might this woman choose or maybe need to speak with such negativity? I can be compassionate.
    • Why does what this woman chooses or needs to say cause me to feel irritated, angry, or resentful? I have allowed her words to push my negativity buttons. I can’t blame her.
    • She doesn’t even know my buttons exist. She’s only concerned with her own needs. I’ve never even told her how much her negativity bothers me. I see what truly is.
    • I see that we are both unhappy with our shared negativity. People who complain and gossip and sacrifice themselves for others aren’t happy. I can help to free us both.
    • I will only help. I will do no harm. I have compassion for us both. I will show kindness toward both of us. I will cultivate love for us, too. I choose to reconnect.
    • I will start with me and then share love with others. May I be well and happy. May our family be well and happy. May she be well and happy. I choose love.

    And whenever I saw her, I greeted her with a kind smile. I sometimes listened to her stories, excusing myself whenever her words became unkind, much the same as I had done before. But I noticed the negativity no longer lingered within me. It disappeared as soon as I began choosing love again. I was freed. And I was happier. Compassion, kindness, and love had made me so.

    My desire was not to speak my mind in an attempt to change hers, to change her apparent need to choose negative words. I did hope she might free herself from negativity and liberate herself by choosing positivity instead. Our reconnection was complete, quite unlimited, too, and it gave me hope that happiness could be ours, shared through our connection.

    I continue to cultivate this loving connection, being compassionate and kind whenever people, myself included, choose to speak negative words, for we all do from time to time. We are positively connected in this negativity thing, and everything else. And compassion, kindness, and love happily connect us all.

  • Things Will Never Be Perfect: Making Peace with Everyday Challenges

    Things Will Never Be Perfect: Making Peace with Everyday Challenges

    Meditating in the Street

    “Serenity comes when you trade expectations for acceptance.” ~Unknown

    A few weeks ago, I walked into my studio apartment and found it quite messy, which isn’t that hard to do with 325 square feet shared by a couple.

    I’m talking clothes on the floor, dishes on the couch, and paper strewn everywhere. It had been one of those weeks where both my husband and I were ripping and running, having little to no time to manage household chores.

    I looked around, took a deep breath, and sat down on the couch after moving some papers. I enjoyed some dinner with my husband and then went to bed. I got up the next morning feeling rested and cleaned the apartment joyfully and pretty quickly with him.

    Why am I telling you this? You see, a few months prior I would have stressed out and felt totally guilty about the house being so junky. I would have gone into an entire inner dialogue about how I wasn’t organized enough and how I couldn’t keep things together.

    This would have led me into a cleaning frenzy for the rest of the night and I would have went to bed feeling tired and depleted, waking up the next morning in an exhaustive funk.

    In that moment of first opening the door, I learned to fully accept and be at peace with what was actually happening rather than beat myself up with lofty expectations of what I had wanted to happen.

    It was a subtle yet important shift in my life. I walked in and rather than feeling bad about the mess, I simply acknowledged that the apartment was in disarray.

    Yes, there were clothes strewn on the floor. Yes, I had been working many hours and didn’t have the time to do laundry. I also acknowledged that “messy” was a relative term, and I realized that I felt a bit of shame about having a messy place because of strict rules that I grew up with when I was younger.

    I accepted the fact that the apartment was messy and that it was okay to not do anything at the very moment to tidy up. It was so simple, just a few moments, but I suddenly felt myself breathing easier as a result and sleeping a lot easier without the worry or the inner critics coming out to play.

    Sometimes I think we have to learn how to accept what is so that we can find peace of mind no matter what kind of day we are having or what type of circumstance we encounter.

    Peace is available to us all of the time, even when life seems to be out of our control. It may not feel like it, but beyond chaos is serenity, if we only accept it. Solutions to our problems are also clearer when we move into this place of peace.

    When feeling a bit stressed out about high expectations, gently remind yourself to do the following:

    Acknowledge what is here. Simply notice for a few seconds what you are feeling, experiencing, seeing, and hearing without any judgment. Also, notice if any judgment is coming from you or other people in your life.

    Accept that situation fully as it is. No shame. No guilt. Just acceptance and lots of deep breaths.

    Be open to the inner wisdom that you possess. There may not be an immediate solution and that is totally fine. Sometimes I think a good pause is just what we need before we take a next step.

    You are enough just as you are. It is a beautiful thing to accept the fullness of your human experience rather than wishing it was anything different.

    There will always be homes to clean, items on the to do list, obligations to fulfill, inboxes to clear, and schedules to make. In the midst of all that, there will always be peace and joy available to us if we simply notice.

    May you find ultimate serenity as you let go of expectations and root into full acceptance of yourself and your life experiences.

    Photo by Nickolai Kashirin

  • Dealing with Disappointing Relationships: Change Your Expectations

    Dealing with Disappointing Relationships: Change Your Expectations

    Disappointed

    “If you can’t change the circumstances, change your perspective.” ~Unknown

    Sometimes it feels as if you are completely in control of your life, but when it comes to relationships there’s always the other person.

    In a relationship, you can’t be the puppeteer. People have their own emotions, behaviors, actions, beliefs, scars, wounds, fears, dreams, and perspectives. They are their own person.

    How often have you wanted a relationship to be something that it was not?

    How many times have you said a certain word or phrase in order to spark a specific reaction?

    How much do you expect from this person? Do they fail you each and every time?

    In healthy relationships there are certain expectations, like being treated well or being respected. Yet sometimes we find ourselves in relationships that don’t mirror what we anticipate to happen. We may feel hurt or used.

    We cannot expect other people to treat us as we would treat them. We cannot assume anything or force change upon someone who clearly demonstrates he or she is stuck in his or her own way.

    With eyes full of clarity, I am capable of changing the relationships in my life by adjusting my point of view.

    I call my father a sperm donor. He gave me life but never showed up in my life.

    My friends at school never knew I had a father because they never saw him. He missed all of the concerts and sports games. For the majority of my life, we didn’t talk. He didn’t acknowledge me—no birthday calls. I had no idea where my dad lived. Some days I was not sure he was still alive.

    In high school, my dad limped back into my life. I could stop by his apartment and visit him when I wanted to. If I called him, he would pick up the phone. Things were changing between us.

    Blindingly bright, his true colors revealed themselves the night before my high school graduation when I called to make sure he was coming. He said he couldn’t attend because he had to drive a friend to the airport. Cabs exist. His friend could have used one. I was angry, sad, and most of all, hurt.

    Rejection from my father has been the hardest thing for me to accept. It is not easy to grasp the idea that someone who once loved me, adored me, gave life to me could turn his back and walk away so easily.

    I could no longer take the feelings of disappointment.

    These feelings were a direct result of what I was expecting from him:

    • Assuming he would respond to things as I would.
    • Assuming he would care like I do.
    • Assuming he thinks in a similar way as I do.

    I was living in a fantasyland of my hopes, dreams, ideas, beliefs, expectations, and assumptions.

    I was hurting myself most.

    For the protection of my emotional body, I changed my perception from what I hoped would happen to being open to experience whatever actually happens.

    This shift didn’t occur immediately, but by following the five steps listed below I was able to come to peace with the type of relationship I have with my father.

    1. Be aware of reality.

    Acknowledge the other person’s behaviors. Look at patterns and how they regularly treat you. Remember the feelings you had in the past. Don’t be fooled into believing things are different from how they are.

    2. Stop manipulating situations.

    Many times we yearn for specific responses, like validation and approval. When we do not receive what we want, we may speak or behave in certain ways to try to elicit the desired reaction.

    This type of behavior leaves us feeling empty when the other person does not react the way we hope they would. Remember, you cannot change anyone; it is up to them to change.

    3. Let go.

    Throw expectations and assumptions out the door. Release the hopes, wishes, and dreams that things will change by detaching from the ideas.

    Get out of the fantasy world by not hooking into the thoughts of what could be. Keep your mind from running into the future. Remain open to all possibilities by staying in the present moment.

    4. Focus on those who love you.

    It will be easier to follow the third step if you remind yourself of those who are there for you. They continue to be there because they care about you. Focus on people who make you feel loved, connected, cared for, and worthy. Reach out to them and reconnect.

    5. Learn to love yourself.

    Provide yourself with what you are yearning for (compliments, compassion, or encouragement). Only you know what you truly need.

    Realize each moment you are being the best you at that time. Build self-confidence and strive to eliminate any doubts you have about yourself. When you feel shaky or alone, look in your eyes in the mirror and say, “I love you.” Nurture yourself. Feel the love you have inside of yourself.

    Let go of your expectations of people and see how your relationships change. And if you don’t feel differently about it or if it’s not benefiting you, you can always walk away. Your emotional state matters most. You cannot control other people, but you can make yourself happy.

    Photo by Don

  • Make Peace with Your Past: Find the Good and Embrace the Lessons

    Make Peace with Your Past: Find the Good and Embrace the Lessons

    “It’s not the events of our lives that shape us but our beliefs as to what those events mean.” ~Tony Robbins

    Daughter of an alcoholic. Welfare recipient. Teenage mother. Non-college attendee. Poor decision maker. Unhealthy relationship participant. Financial disaster. Evictee.

    All of these statements described me. They also propelled me into action, transforming me into an over-achieving perfectionist. Yet they still weighed me down because I felt like I had to constantly prove I was better than my past—better than the circumstances from which I came.

    It took a lot of effort.

    It took a lot of energy.

    It was a burden.

    I gained a lot of knowledge, built a tremendous skill set, and developed expertise. I was successful on the outside, but on the inside I felt like nothing more than a fraud. 

    I avoided events where the question of what college I attended may surface.

    I avoided situations that would put me in the company of highly educated people, for fear that their vocabulary would be beyond my understanding and I would appear stupid.

    I avoided conversations about any topic that I did not feel a level of expertise in discussing.

    I avoided talking about my past and my history.

    Avoidance became a whole new skill set—one that I executed with a level of mastery. At some point I began to realize this game of charades was not in alignment with my core values of honesty and integrity.

    I began to realize that the energy I was putting into creating a false image of myself was taking away my ability to live my life fully and openly.

    I began to realize that in order to move forward, I had to come to terms with my past, to extract the good, to carry forward the lessons learned, but to leave behind the all of the garbage I’d outgrown.

    Good like…

    The kindness and generosity shown by to me strangers, neighbors, family, and friends when I was in the greatest need. The people who cheered me on and believed in me when I did not believe in myself. The few who knew my biggest, darkest secrets and loved me anyway.

    Lessons like…

    Understanding that no matter how much you want something for someone else, the only person you have control over—that you can change—is yourself.

    Accepting the fact that when you blame other people for what is wrong with your life, nothing is ever going to get better.

    Realizing that no matter how bad a situation seems in the moment, someone else is surviving, sometimes even thriving, in much more difficult circumstances.

    And also…

    What you believe about yourself and your limitations will become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

    And, it doesn’t matter how “successful” you seem on the outside if you are miserable on the inside.

    When my perception shifted, so did my life. Today I embrace who I am—all of me—the good, the bad, and the ugly. 

    I am grateful for all of the experiences I’ve encountered.

    I realize that I was judging myself far more harshly that anyone else ever could.

    I let go of the belief that I had to hide from my past.

    I let go of the belief that I was “less than.”

    I let go of the belief that I was not worthy.

    I no longer pretend.

    I share openly and, in claiming my story, it not only helps me but also helps others on their journey. It gives them the courage to share their truth, to stop hiding and start living.

    Recovering perfectionist. Student of life. Woman of strength. Overcomer of obstacles. Seeker of growth. Embracer of truth. These are the descriptors I’ve added to my life story. The rich and messy truth of my past makes possible the true success of my todays.

    What beliefs are you clinging to that are holding you back? Where in your life are you feeling like a fraud? What are the tough and painful lessons that you can be grateful for today when you look through this new lens of perspective?

    Reflect. Journal. Dig deep and find the answers. It’s in this process—in your truth—that you will find true happiness, success, and self-acceptance. It’s where healing begins. It’s where you will find peace.

  • Peace in the Heart

    Peace in the Heart

    Peace in the Heart

    Source: Kindnessville

  • 20 Ways Sitting in Silence Can Completely Transform Your Life

    20 Ways Sitting in Silence Can Completely Transform Your Life

    “Silence is a source of great strength.” ~Lao Tzu

    For over two years I spent one out of every four weeks in silence. At the time I was living at a Zen Monastery and every month we would have a week-long silent retreat.

    During this retreat we sat meditation in silence, ate in silence, worked in silence, and only communicated through hand gestures and written notes.

    At first living like this was hard, but over time I learned to grow to appreciate silence. By the time I left I learned that silence was my friend and teacher.

    What did silence teach me?

    1. Satisfaction

    I used to think I needed to watch TV every night. But at monastery I went without and discovered I didn’t need it.

    Silence taught me to be happy with less. Pick something that’s weighing you down and let it go. Your life will thank you.

    2. Expression

    When you can only talk by writing a note, you only say what’s important. Before the monastery I talked a lot but said little.

    Silence taught me that a few simple words well spoken have more power than hours of chatter. Think of one simple thing you can say that would help someone feel better and say it.

    3. Appreciation

    Being able to speak makes life easy, but when I couldn’t talk I learned how much I relied on others.

    Silence taught me to appreciate the value of relating to others. The next time you see your friends or family, try to really listen. Deep listening expresses deep appreciation.

    4. Attention

    Several times at my first retreat I thought my phone was vibrating. But then I would remember I didn’t have my phone. It showed me how my phone divided my attention.

    Silence taught me how important it is to let go of distractions. The next time you are with someone you care about, try turning off your phone and putting it away. It will make paying attention easier.

    5. Thoughts

    I once sat a retreat next door to a construction project. What amazed me was how easily my thoughts drowned out the noise. I realized if my thoughts were this loud, I’d better make them as wise as possible.

    Silence taught me the importance of shaping my thinking. Take time each day to notice your thoughts and let go of thoughts that don’t serve you.

    6. Nature

    Because I sat retreat in every season, I know that the sound of wind in fall is different than it is in winter.

    Silence taught me to notice nature. Take a short walk outside in silence and you’ll discover the wisdom and peace that nature has to offer.

    7. Body

    During retreat I noticed that whenever I got lost in thought, I lost track of my body. And when I focused on my body, my thoughts would calm down.

    Silence taught me to be in my body. Close your eyes and ask, “What sensations do I feel in my hand?” Learning to feel your body can calm your troubled mind.

    8. Overstimulation

    Whenever I went into town after retreat, the world seemed so loud and fast. I came to realize how much our senses have to process most of the time.

    Silence taught me the importance of reducing the stimulation. Enjoy some quiet time everyday. The less you see and hear, the more settled your mind can become.

    9. Sound

    People would come to the monastery and remark how quiet it was. But living at the monastery I knew all the noises, from frogs, to owls, to the sound of sandals on the sidewalk.

    Silence taught me that the world is a rich texture of sounds. Sit in front of your house and close your eyes. You’ll be amazed at what you hear if you listen long enough.

    10. Humanity

    During retreat I was surrounded by imperfect people who were doing their best. Some were happy, some were sad, but all were wonderfully human.

    Silence taught me that people display great beauty. Find a good spot to people watch with an open heart. What you see may inspire you.

    11. Space

    For a long time anytime something difficult came up, I would just distract myself. But retreat taught me that if I avoided something it would never go away.

    Silence taught me that space helps me face hard times. The next time you face something difficult, pause and honor whatever’s arising.

    12. Love

    I used to think love was this big thing. But in retreat I found that I felt love for so many things.

    Silence taught me that love can be simple. Think of someone you haven’t said I love you to recently and tell them.

    13. Courage

    I used to think courage was about facing danger, but during retreat I realized that real courage is about facing yourself.

    Silence taught me the courage it takes to be still. When we stop moving everything we’re running from catches up. The next time you are afraid, stop and wait for it to pass. There is immense courage inside your heart.

    14. Perseverance

    Every retreat reminded me that speaking is easy, but staying quiet is hard.

    Silence isn’t flashy, but it has an immense power to endure. The next time someone doubts you, instead of disagreeing, silently vow not to give up. Action speaks volumes.

    15. Faith

    I often ask for reassurance or feedback. But living in silence meant I had to trust my instincts.

    Silence taught me to have faith in myself. The next time you begin to feel anxious, sit in silence and see if you can find the space of deep faith that lives in your heart.

    16. Honesty

    I used to lie so I wouldn’t have to explain myself. But when I couldn’t talk I began to notice this impulse and how much it degraded my integrity.

    Silence taught me the importance of telling the truth. Notice times where you tell little lies and try telling the truth instead. It isn’t always easy but it’s the first step to trusting ourselves and others. 

    17. Gratitude

    During retreat I didn’t have a lot of comforts. It helped me see how much I took for granted and how much I had to be grateful for.

    At the end of every day sit in silence and ask yourself what am I grateful for. You’ll be amazed at the blessings you discover.

    18. Simplicity

    I used to love drama and conflict. But at retreat I found I was happier when I kept it simple.

    Silence taught me that simplicity and joy are close companions. Pick one space in your home you could simplify. Keep it simple for one month and enjoy the ease it offers your life.

    19. Connection

    I used to think I had to talk in order to feel connected. I realized during retreat that I can feel connected just by being near people I care about.

    Silence taught me that words can get in the way. Do something in silence with someone you love. It will be awkward at first but eventually you will see what it means just to be in someone’s presence.

    20. Truth

    I studied philosophy in college and I thought I could read about truth. But retreat taught me that truth is found in silence.

    Silence has taught me a deeper truth than words ever could. Sit in silence once a week and feel the truth in your heart. It’s there whether you can express it in words or not.

  • The Power of Surrendering: Let Go of Control to Be Peaceful and Free

    The Power of Surrendering: Let Go of Control to Be Peaceful and Free

    Let Go

    “The reality is that tomorrow is most certainly uncertain and no matter how many expectations we form, tomorrow will come, tomorrow will go, and it will be what it will be.” ~Lori Deschene

    I have never known how to surrender to just about anything. Surrendering is giving up control, and this is something I have never been good at doing.

    From an early age I coped with tension and negativity by trying to will things to be different. This caused me a great deal of anxiety because trying to will anything to go your way is not only exhausting, but also impossible.

    My efforts always wound up seeming fruitless, and I often felt that many things were out of my control, starting with my home life.

    I am the second of five children, so money was always tight. My mom worked two jobs as a nurse, and my dad had his own struggles. The financial strain at home was bad, but the emotional one was much worse.

    I wanted so badly for my parents to get along, and yet it seemed to always be out of my control. No matter how much effort I put into not creating waves, nothing helped. I never learned to relax. I felt like if I was constantly on some sort of emotional alert, somehow the blows wouldn’t hurt so much.

    That was never the case. Soon it seemed I was anxious even in peaceful moments because I always expected those quiet and happy times to be the calm before the storm.

    School did nothing to help my anxiety. I had a close knit group of friends beginning in junior high, most of whom I am still very close to now; however, I never truly felt comfortable in my own skin as an adolescent.

    I was a beanpole growing up, but then suddenly my body changed in my early teens, and not in a way that I liked. I noticed how much wider my hips were than my friends’, and how I had to wear a size fourteen when everyone else was wearing a size four.

    During this time I made a promise to myself that I would grow up to be much different. One day my life would be mine, and I would be able to control it to be just how I wanted. I would finally surrender to the palpable joy of my wonderful life.

    This mindset did nothing to cultivate a healthy young adulthood, though. Instead, it led to bad relationships (the “I can change him” mentality) and an eating disorder (I thought I could control my body, if nothing else).

    Time did heal some old wounds, and eventually I stepped away from the bad body image and found myself in a happy, healthy marriage. Yet I found that my anxiety had stuck around. I really thought that once I had a wonderful husband and a great job, all of my worries would be over, that suddenly the anxiety I had growing up would cease to exist.

    Why wouldn’t it? Clearly I would have nothing to worry about—except I still find so many things to worry about: My parents getting older, my own finances, my dogs’ health, and even my marriage.

    It doesn’t help that I’m a fixer. You have a problem? Give me a few minutes and I can solve it. Can’t find a job? I am your woman. Need psychological help? I will forward you my counselor’s information.

    The trouble is, most of the time this is unsolicited, and I find myself trying to fix issues I have absolutely no business fixing. These aren’t my problems and, quite frankly, it is exhausting trying to fix other people’s lives while also finding time for my own issues.

    I have a hard time understanding that not involving myself doesn’t mean I don’t care. It means I care enough to believe someone else can solve their problems without me.

    I have never enjoyed trying to control things. I truly want nothing more in life than to just let go, let things happen for what they are. I have just never been able to loosen my grasp.

    The closest I ever came to surrendering myself, mentally and physically, was when I went skydiving. I put my trust and faith (and life) in both the pilot and tandem jumper. I remember the guy I jumped with giving me instructions as we ascended into the sky.

    The instruction I remember the most was that under no circumstance should I try and grab onto any part of the plane on my jump out, especially the wing. If I did, not only would I risk getting hurt, but also would risk the lives of everyone in the plane, including my eventual husband.

    For a split second I panicked: “What if my inner control freak rears its ugly head and tries to grab ahold of something during the jump?”

    But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I would not grab onto anything. I didn’t want to get hurt, and I certainly didn’t want to be responsible for hurting anyone else.

    And so I jumped. I went free falling out of a plane from 10,000 feet in the air, probably plummeting at about 100 miles per hour.

    It was amazing. It was freeing. It was surreal. It was eye opening.

    There I was, falling from the sky without the ability of manipulating anything in my favor. For once, I had absolutely no control of an outcome. I had to accept that, put my faith in someone else for a brief moment, and just let the chips fall where they may.

    It took jumping out of a plane for me to get it, but at that moment I finally felt how freeing it is to let go and surrender control.

    I used to hate people telling me things would be okay. At my lowest and saddest points it seemed like things wouldn’t be okay because I was unable to control any outcome.

    I once had a boyfriend who told me this, even as I sobbed on his porch about how horrible my life was. I asked him how he knew that things would be okay. He didn’t have an answer. I was angry that he would tell me things would turn out all right when he could make no guarantee that they would.

    Looking back on that day, I realize now how unrealistic it is to expect any guarantee you that your future turns out all right. Life makes no promises and is not obligated to guarantee anything. The way things are doesn’t always follow what we want.

    I have spent many of my happiest days clouded by anxiety because I’ve been simultaneously waiting for the other shoe to drop. I need to re-learn the simplest things, like how to just enjoy a moment for what it is without worrying about some impending doom.

    I need to allow myself to trust more instead of panicking about everything that could go wrong. It won’t be easy, and it will probably make jumping out of a plane seem like a piece of cake. But just like with the wing of the plane, I need to allow myself the freedom from constantly grabbing for safety.

    I once sang The Beatles’ “Let it Be” to audition for a high school play. I read that Paul McCartney wrote it after having a dream in which his late mother came to him during a difficult time in his life. She told him to let things be and that they would all turn out okay in the end.

    A simple song has helped me scratch the surface and realize profound beauty in just letting things be what they are.

    It is through letting go that I can finally bid farewell to my anxiety and learn to see this life in a new light, one that isn’t controlled. It will be a life in which I allow things to happen as they do and land just where they are meant to land. It will be a life in which I finally learn to surrender.

    It’s only in surrendering that we can be peaceful and free.

    Photo by Lachian Rogers

  • The Path of Heart: Live a Passionate Life Full of Love and Joy

    The Path of Heart: Live a Passionate Life Full of Love and Joy

    Path of Heart

    “Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye.” ~H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

    In my late thirties, I attended a workshop that was led by a group of coaches. One of the exercises we did was called the “future self-exercise,” a visualization that took me twenty years into my future.

    During the meditation, I was greeted by my future self: a gorgeous, happy, free older me dressed in purple, one of my favorite colors. Her hair was long, flowing, and brown. (So I guess the future me dyed her hair!)

    She was walking on the beach in Maui near her home. She told me that her name was “Warrior Woman.” I was uncomfortable at first with that word, warrior, as my mind associated it with violence.

    When I told her that, she explained that being a warrior meant feeling one’s power with a relaxed, gentle heart. She was supremely calm and peaceful, and I instantly trusted her in every cell of my body.

    Her energy, like that of a child’s merry-go-round, represents the circle of life: moving around and around slowly and happily, experiencing everything joyfully.

    I still have a ways to go—my current energy is closer to that of Disneyland’s Space Mountain: in the dark, not exactly sure where I’m going yet clearly on the right path, loving action, loving speed.

    But what my encounter with Warrior Woman gave me was a vision of myself to work toward.

    Being human, I fixate on what is outside me. I feel the pain of wanting to control things I cannot control. My ego acts like it’s in charge, which can lead to my complaining or acting like a wounded puppy. It is in these times that I remind myself of the warrior’s path.

    The path of heart, the path that leads to love, is a warrior’s path.

    A warrior protects and empowers him or herself and their world. A warrior is centered in their love and therefore experiences deep peace. A warrior is worthy of love and knows this through and through. A warrior knows how to balance being proactive with simply being.

    But warriors are not born. We are made.

    You have a warrior sleeping within you. He is a master of life, of his domain and body. You sense him when you feel the will to do what’s right in the face of adversity. You hear her whisper when you know deep down that the harder path is the one you must take. You feel her rejoice when you experience moments of worthiness, joy, and love. 

    There are five steps on the warrior’s path:

    1. Know and accept who you are now—the good, the bad, and the ugly.

    This step is about revisiting who we are and seeking what is true, even if it’s challenging. This truth is both where you’ve come from and where you are.

    For example, for years I had denied the truth of my abusive childhood in an effort to protect myself. I refused to reflect on the experience or acknowledge that it had influenced my life. But actually acknowledging it was the way out of my pain.

    I also woke up to the truth of my adult life—the fact that I was still making choices from that place of abuse. Acknowledging the truth empowered me instead of enraging me.

    2. Have something worth striving for.

    As we first move into self-love, we often need something beyond ourselves to strive for. It’s easy to fight for someone you love, but you might not love yourself just yet. So until we can fully experience and know that we ourselves are worth it, we must find what or who is worth it in the meantime.

    It can be a relative, a friend, or a personal goal. Having that motivation helps us to actualize our true potential, and in doing so, we realize our own true worth. 

    3. Take action toward your vision.

    When we identify what in our life is worth striving for, we feel the power of our will. We feel as though we are being carried on the tide of purpose. This energy must be channeled into action.

    Consider what you’re saying to yourself and your life when you identify something worth striving for and then do nothing. That’s like researching a fantastic hike, packing your bags, driving to the mountain—and then sitting in the parking lot.

    If you’re struggling to know what to do, I suggest you get quiet and ask for an answer. “Dear Universe: I am unsure of my next action step. Please help me see it and make it clear to me.” Then watch and notice what begins to show up in your life (observation is action).

    4. Let go of the outcome.

    This seems counterintuitive and maybe even ridiculous.

    You’ve just connected with a powerful desire about what you want your life to be like. Then you found something near and dear to your heart worth striving for. And now I’m telling you that you have to move forward completely unattached to the outcome of whether you’ll get the life you want.

    Growth begins with looking at those things we desire most and finding the bliss in working toward them—not in achieving them. Achievement is still the goal, but you only get there by letting go of the need for it.

    In other words, I invite you to fall in love with the process, with the transformation, growth, and healing you are experiencing for its own worth. 

    5. Choose to contribute. 

    It’s only human to think of ourselves first. But now, grow beyond yourself. We do this to fully become ourselves—yet another irony.

    What can I give? How will my life have mattered? These are the questions that lead our feet onto the path of the warrior.

    Their answers provide the heart. Service is at the core of love. This may be calling an elderly relative once a week, working at a soup kitchen, or volunteering at your child’s school, not out of guilt or obligation, rather out of love.

    Transformation won’t come overnight; periods of obsessing and anger over old wounds are all part of the ride.

    Of course I laugh when I find myself using my frenetic, Space Mountain energy—the energy that says I have to do something, and do it quickly (I have always loved amusement parks, and now I understand why).

    I still talk to my warrior and ask her for her wisdom. She feels like the mother in me. I consider my teaching how I do my mothering in the world. The knowledge that warrior is both someone I aspire to be and someone I already am carries me through this adventure called life.

    There’s a warrior in you too. Can you feel it?

    Photo by h.koppdelaney

  • How to Practice Self-Compassion: 5 Tips to Stop Being Down on Yourself

    How to Practice Self-Compassion: 5 Tips to Stop Being Down on Yourself

    Inner Light

    “If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete.” ~Jack Kornfield

    I never wanted to see a therapist. I imagined settling onto the storied couch and seeing dollar signs appear in concerned eyes as I listed the family history of mental illness, addiction, and abuse. I feared I’d be labeled before I’d ever been heard.

    But after experiencing the emotional shock of witnessing a murder, I knew I needed a space to grieve. So I gathered all of my courage and laid myself bare to a very nice woman who had Don Miguel Ruiz’s The Four Agreements on her coffee table. I trusted her.

    Within moments of meeting me, that very nice woman shattered the world I knew. The characteristics I viewed as strengths—my drive, my nurturing nature, my strength under pressure—were neatly organized into a single neurosis: codependency.

    As I leafed through the pages of the book she recommended to me, I saw myself in the narrative of the co-dependent: giving until I had given all that I had; investing myself deeply in the mental health of those around me; constantly trying to make others happy.

    But rather than find comfort in the words on the pages, I found myself sinking into despair. All of those years I thought that I had escaped my past unscathed, and here I was, stuck with a label: codependent.

    Week after week, I dove deeper into this idea that perhaps I needed to confront my past; perhaps I did need to grieve. I cried. I raged. I stopped eating. I ate too much. My health declined.

    My therapist told me I needed to relax. So I woke up early every day, determined to be the most relaxed person I could be: always striving to relax harder, better. And yet I didn’t feel better; I felt worse.

    By accepting a label given to me by a near stranger, I had unconsciously shifted my focus from living in the present to fixing something that I perceived to be wrong with my past.  And it had overwhelmed me.

    My inner critic gained a strength previously unknown to me. Every day, I thought about how I might make myself better. I cursed at myself for being unable to let go, and then I cursed at myself for cursing at myself.

    I was exhausted.

    As I slowly came to realize that I could not keep up with that inner critic, something changed. I accepted that I couldn’t be perfect. I accepted that I was human.

    Only by finding my edge—that place where I couldn’t take any more—was I able to finally let go. When my inner critic started to rear its head, I learned to stick up for myself as I might defend a friend: “I am only human. I am not perfect, nor do I need to be.”

    With that simple acknowledgement—I am not perfect, nor do I need to be—I was finally able to free myself not only from the pain of past experiences, but also from the pain that came from reducing myself to a label.

    By learning to practice self-compassion, I became comfortable with the person I am today, free of expectations.

    The journey to self-compassion was a difficult one for me, but I believe it to be a journey that I will only need to take once. Today, I have the tools I need to practice self-compassion without having to first battle my inner critic, and these are tools that anyone can use:

    1. Acknowledge challenges and let them go.

    I always remember, “I am not perfect, nor do I need to be.” When entirely normal emotions come up—frustration, stress, anger, fear—I remind myself that no one expects me to be perfect. I allow myself to feel whatever it is I need to feel and to then let it go.

    2. Remember that you are exactly where you need to be.

    When we start our journey inward, we may learn things about ourselves that shock us. I try to remember that every challenge has its purpose and I am exactly where I need to be today.

    3. Practice self-growth rather than self-improvement.

    Improvement implies that there is something to fix. Rather than attempting to “fix” what’s “wrong,” I focus instead on strengthening what’s right. Work toward personal growth rather than some idea of perfection.

    4. Speak to yourself as you would speak to a friend.

    As I faced challenges in my personal growth, I learned to be kind to myself. If a friend was struggling with an uncomfortable emotion, I would never criticize that friend with language like, “Why can’t you just learn to be happy all of the time?!” So I don’t speak to myself that way either.

    5. Give yourself a hug.

    Go on. Right now. Just do it. That felt good, didn’t it?

    Self-compassion is an inside job. I’ve learned that if I am gentle with myself, the world becomes a gentler place. I invite you to experience it too.

    Photo by Joseph Vasquez

  • Meditation Remixed: Movies, Pop Culture, and Inner Peace

    Meditation Remixed: Movies, Pop Culture, and Inner Peace

    DJ/VJ and Audio Visual Artist Brett Belcastro created an awesome remix video using over 80 scenes from movies and TV shows to entertain and inspire viewers to find peace within their minds. And entertain and inspire it does!

    As a huge movie buff, I appreciate how Brett used pop culture to share the power and importance of meditation.

    From the Vimeo page:

    “The idea for this video remix came to mind about a year ago while I was listening to a guided meditation by the Deepak Chopra. I was so inspired after attending his ‘Seduction of Spirit’ seminar this past April that had decided to create this video.

    In April of 2012 I myself had such a ‘spiritual awakening,’ a dramatic shift of perception in my conscious awareness during the 3rd time I had ever mediated, that I just knew I had to share the experience.

    Since that moment it has a personal mission of mine to share my new found passion for meditation with this many people as I can.”

    It’s my pleasure to help support that mission…enjoy!

  • Free Yourself from Regret and Transform Your Life

    Free Yourself from Regret and Transform Your Life

    Im Free

    “The practice of forgiveness is our most important contribution to the healing of the world.” ~Marianne Williamson

    I always had a hard time accepting all of me. As early as I can remember others defined me by saying “You are so weird.” Not in a malicious way but more in a “you don’t fit into our familiar box” sort of way.

    I spent most of my teens and twenties attempting to conform to others or numbing myself to a point of not caring what they thought. If someone would have told me that forgiveness and compassion would lead me to inner peace and wholeness, I would have asked them what they were smoking.

    So how is it that I came to learn that freedom lies within the forgiving and compassionate heart?

    I can assure you that it wasn’t because I have some super powers or a secret knowledge that you don’t. My discovery came through a real and messy life, no different from any other.

    Childhood

    My dad drank a lot. He was the obvious thorn in the family—the one that everyone else used as a distraction to keep from looking at themselves, the one that needed love the most but we were too afraid to give it.

    I was six or seven years old when my dad was pacing back and forth across the street from my grandparents’ house, yelling, “I just want to see my kids.” I thought to myself, “Why can’t he just come over and give me a hug? My daddy just needs a hug.”

    Someone in the house was assuring my frightened grandmother that it was against the law for him to come any closer to the house because of the restraining order, which didn’t make much sense to me, so I hugged my doll and disappeared into the background.

    As my father’s drinking and raging progressed, I too began to fear him. Afraid of my father, afraid of how people treated him, afraid life could actually be the way that he seemed to experience it—it was all so terrifying.

    It wasn’t easy watching my dad struggle his whole life, blaming his family, his job, my mom, and eventually me for his pain.

    Occasionally he would have a reprieve. Like the time he sent me a dozen roses for no reason. When I asked him why he sent them, he said, “My daughter is going to get a lot of roses in her lifetime and I wanted to be the first to give them to you.”

    He could be so charismatic, loving, and kind. I loved him with all of my heart.

    Growing Up

    In my twenties I found myself caught between a deep love and a desperate fear of my reflection. I fought a good fight not to become my dad. But as the saying goes, “what you resist persists,” and voila: I woke up one day and realized that I wasn’t like my dad. I had become him.

    Now in my twenties I was the one blaming others for my unhappiness; if only my childhood wasn’t so screwed up, if only my father was a better role model and had been there for me, and so on.

    Using relationships, alcohol, food, and whatever else I could to drown out daddy’s little mirror, I found myself plagued with the reality of not being able to live successfully anymore than he did.

    Healing begins when we can stand still and face ourselves in the mirror of another.

    The one thing that I had never witnessed my father do was take responsibility for his actions, which were the culmination of his life experiences. Knowing that I was just like him, I knew I needed to make a different choice, but how?

    Intuitively, I knew that I had to ask for help in learning how to become responsible—learning how to respond to life in a new way.

    I began reaching out for guidance through counseling, books, and learning from people around me who seemed genuinely happy. I soon discovered the power in connection.

    Connecting with people that were living life as creators, rather than victims, showed me a whole new way to live.

    I began to change inside. Compassion and self-forgiveness swelled. The principle “as within, so without” proved true as my newfound experience poured out and into my world.

    Forgiveness

    My thirties were a time of forgiveness during which my father and I were estranged because of his active drinking. At that time I didn’t know how to grow while simultaneously keeping my father in my life.

    Unfortunately, by the time my relationship with my father was healed, he had been dead for about five years.

    During those years I had made several attempts to make amends with him, once by spreading his ashes on Father’s Day at a place he used to take me and my brother as children.

    I’d written and read aloud two letters I wrote for him at different points of time.

    Interestingly, the action that created the ultimate healing came to me in meditation one morning.

    Sitting in silence I became aware of unkind and dismissive behavior I had displayed toward my father’s fourth ex-wife, Ann. Her only crime was that she loved him and was a kind stepmom. I blamed her for my father’s alcoholism, which made no rational sense.

    When I called Ann she was as gracious to me as she had always been.

    “It is so good to hear from you,” she said.

    I responded, “I’m calling because I have become aware that I somehow held you responsible for my father’s alcoholism, and because of that I was unkind and dismissive toward you. I wanted you to know that I am sorry for the way that I behaved and am extremely grateful that you were able to love and accept my father all those years, especially when I was unable to love him myself.”

    Her warmth traveled through the phone lines as she said, “You’re welcome; I understand. Your father so loved you.”

    Immediately after our phone conversation I felt something physically leave my body. I will never forget it. Beyond my understanding my relationship with my father had been healed.

    The Lesson I Wish I Had Learned Before It was Too Late

    After my father died I tried to convince myself that I had no regrets about never healing our relationship. The truth is that years earlier I intuitively knew that it was time to call my father and make things right, but I made the choice not to do it for one reason: fear.

    It is the one thing in my life that I would do differently if I could.

    Although I believe in a higher plan, with things always happening as they should, my actions play a vital role in the equation. Being responsible for my life has taught me to acknowledge my regret and the choice that I made which created it.

    Lessons I Learned from a Forgiving and an Unforgiving Heart

    • It is impossible to fully accept ourselves until we are at peace with our greatest fears.
    • Our greatest fears are easily detected by looking at those we are yet unable to love.
    • When we are willing to make things right in our life, regardless of appearances, seeking inner guidance will teach us how to heal.
    • If we still have breath, we can grow.

    Today when I find myself restless I ask, “Am I being stingy with my forgiveness?” And if the answer is yes, then I ask, “What can I do now to make things right with myself or between me and another?” knowing that they are one in the same.

    Forgiveness is a warrior’s journey where we grow into compassionate human beings. Regret surfaces when we know within what we need to do but we don’t do it. Forgiving is our opportunity to limit regrets.

    In our willingness to practice forgiveness we move from seeking acceptance to resting in our wholeness.

    Photo by Sara Jo