Source: Power of Positivity
Tag: perfect
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28 Ways We Sabotage Our Happiness (And How to Stop)
“The simplest things in life are the most extraordinary.” ~Paul Coelho
Life can be frustrating. Things don’t always go according to plan.
People let you down, your loved ones seem insufficiently appreciative, the future seems uncertain, demands pile up, and stress invades your life.
You start to beat yourself up over mistakes. You might even start to question if you are worthy of love. Life loses its shine.
You’re not alone. Hundreds of millions of people feel this way. But pause for a little while to consider this story.
A personable young man approached me at a gathering and introduced himself. I had known his father professionally. Some weeks later, to my surprise, I was invited to participate in a benefit concert for this same young man.
He had been in a sports accident only weeks after we met. In an instant, he was paralyzed from the neck down. He was flown to a leading center for such severe injuries.
I was doubly horrified, as a parent, because our own children were not much younger than he was. Such an accident might crush anyone’s spirit, I thought.
I recalled my own childhood. Sometimes my parents would speak words of appreciation, but more often they would criticize me. For years, I remained eager to win their approval and feel worthy.
After years of driving myself hard to win accolades, I eventually adopted a more self-assured way of living. This brought me more fulfilment, joy, and peace of mind. But this youngster’s wings were cruelly clipped just as he was on the verge of adulthood.
I then lost track of him for a few years. One day I opened a glossy magazine and found him smiling out at me, sitting in a wheelchair and looking radiant in his tuxedo. He’s now happily married and a champion of better opportunities for people with disabilities.
A culture that worships status and wealth can tend to disrespect or patronize people with disabilities. But if abilities, achievements, and wealth are what make us worthy of respect and love, then our own worth remains precarious. That’s why this young man, with his invincible spirit, is such an inspiration.
His attitudes gave him wings to transcend his predicament, even though he was permanently paralyzed and confined to a wheelchair. My past attitudes had been like a ball and chain to me, weighing me down inwardly despite my outward success. It made me reflect on the importance of our inner attitude.
Here are twenty-eight unhelpful beliefs and behaviors that hinder happiness. Don’t let them be a ball and chain in your life.
1. Stop thinking that you have to be just like someone else, or to match their apparent success.
Instead, recognize that you are unique. Form your own personalized criteria of success.
2. Stop thinking that wealth, looks, intelligence, talent, and status equate to fulfillment.
Instead, make room for criteria such as peace of mind, joy, family happiness, love, and self-actualization.
3. Stop thinking that you need to be perfect in order to be lovable.
Instead, accept your faults and mistakes but believe they cannot rob you of your intrinsic dignity. Think of a mother pouring all her love into her little baby. That love is not dependent on the baby being perfect. It is a profound, unshakable love based on the baby simply existing.
Each of us is like that baby, a child of the Universe, fashioned by love and inherently worthy of love. Affirm that to yourself regularly and you will start to rejoice in your humanity, warts and all.
4. Stop judging yourself harshly.
Instead, recognize that all human beings stumble. Become a more forgiving and sympathetic friend to yourself; learn from your mistakes but move on.
5. Stop being hungry for approval.
Instead, recognize your own power, as a human being, to appreciate, encourage, and build up others.
Once you accept that you are inherently and unshakably lovable, your hunger for approval will be tamed. This confidence will allow you to look beyond yourself. You will become a dispenser of approval more than a seeker of it.
6. Stop thinking that your happiness depends on how others feel about you.
Instead, cultivate your own stable inner source of peace and joy. Take up some absorbing creative activity that fits your talents, pray or meditate, find something that reliably engages you and recharges you.
7. Stop thinking that achievements are a measure of your worth.
Don’t chase too many “rabbits” at one time (the many little things that bring more worry than fulfillment). As the proverb says, “Anyone who chases too many rabbits won’t catch any.”
Instead, focus on the few “elephants” that will contribute most to your personalized criteria of success (the few goals that fit in best with what you value).
8. Stop rehashing past mistakes or fearing future failures.
Instead, be more fully present in each moment.
Don’t burden yourself with trying to work it all out from moment to moment. Set apart planning time regularly, where you can solve problems and translate your cherished values into simple steps. If, for example, peace of mind is important to you, then a simple step might be to practice prayer or meditation for a few minutes each day.
Throw yourself into your simple next steps, without rumination over the past or worry over the future. That’s how you can build a fulfilling, enjoyable life.
9. Stop obsessing over outcomes.
Instead, do whatever needs to be done, with all your heart. You’ll live more calmly, courageously, and vigorously, with outcomes that surprise you.
Immerse yourself in the process and trust that you’ll be okay whatever happens.
10. Stop thinking that every small risk will lead to disaster.
Instead, reach courageously for more fulfillment. Don’t imprison yourself or curb your potential.
11. Stop thinking that failure in an endeavor means that you’re a failure as a person.
Instead, congratulate yourself for stretching beyond your comfort zone. Sometimes you win and sometimes you lose; that’s okay.
12. Stop ruminating about what can’t be changed.
Whenever discouraged, try to remember people who suffer sudden, permanent paralysis—and still find ways to create a fulfilling life.
13. Stop pretending that you’re just a machine.
Instead, make some time regularly to be still, and experience the joy of spirituality. This will enhance your capacity to respect, befriend, and love others.
14. Stop thinking that being alone means being unhappy.
Instead, cultivate a richer inner life that can sustain you whether or not you happen to be alone.
Your leisure time is a good place to start. Devote some of it to developing the life of the mind and soul: read some classics, challenge yourself to learn something new, absorb lessons from great teachers through the ages, open your eyes to the beauty of nature, your ears to the beauty of great music. Find sources of joy and drink deeply.
15. Stop pretending that other people own your time.
Instead, live more intentionally—in your work, play, voluntary service, socialization, and relaxation. Allocate your time instead of drifting.
16. Stop thinking that you have to say “yes” to every request.
Instead, establish your own policies and be more confidently picky. Just say “I don’t do that,” or simply “No,” whenever required.
17. Stop acting as if your romantic partner is completely fused with you.
Instead, nurture your self-respect and individuality. It will help keep the electricity of romance alive.
18. Stop clinging to resentment.
It will eat you up inside. Instead, be more eager to understand and forgive.
Whenever it seems difficult to forgive, remember that our actions and omissions have deep roots. They spring partly from our genes, our upbringing, our opportunities or lack thereof, our successes and failures, our past wounds, and so much more. If we were to exchange places with the offender, who can be sure that we would behave any better?
19. Stop thinking you can lash out when angry and still get what you want.
Instead, take time out and speak once you’re calmer. You’ll get more of what you really value.
20. Stop pretending that you have no self-control.
Instead, take up regular exercise, work at a skill, or take up some other disciplined yet intrinsically rewarding activity. This will help build your self-control in all areas of life.
21. Stop thinking it’s a sign of weakness to reach out for help.
Instead, recognize that vulnerability often elicits compassion, friendship, and support.
22. Stop mistaking disagreement by others as a sign of them disliking you.
Instead, cultivate mutual respect and cultivate confidence in your own worth. This can withstand differences of opinion.
23. Stop acting as if the world will end if you miss a deadline.
Instead, decline or ignore unrealistic demands. Keep progressing toward important goals, but without sacrificing your well-being.
24. Stop thinking that you have to navigate office politics on your own.
If you’re pursuing career goals, try to identify and cultivate a powerful mentor. They can help steer you through minefields.
25. Stop pretending your current job is your only option.
Instead, keep an eye open for more fulfilling opportunities. That will help you to avoid being swamped by work.
26. Stop thinking you’re incapable of creativity.
When you create anything (an essay, a drawing, a crafted object, music, etc.), you affirm that you can rise above the chaos of life. Instead of being a piece of driftwood in the water, you become, for a while, the surfer who rides the breakers.
27. Stop pretending you have no time to enjoy healthy meals.
Make mealtimes pleasant and nourishing so that you can more easily avoid unhealthy snacks. Be good to your brain and body, and they will be good to you.
28. Stop thinking your education has ended, no matter how old you are.
Those who keep learning, informally or formally, boost their sense of purpose in life.
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You don’t have to tackle all these things at once. Make a start with whatever speaks the most to you. Life will soon become less frustrating and more fulfilling.
Remember you are worthy of respect, love, and joy, whatever your shortcomings and mistakes. Choose your thoughts and actions wisely and feel the difference.
Happy people silhouette via Shutterstock
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Why We Don’t Need to Try So Hard to Be Better
“To heal a wound, you need to stop touching it.” ~Unknown
I’ve always been an overachiever. In sixth grade, I spent weeks memorizing over five pages of the poem “Horatius at the Bridge” for extra credit, even though I already had an A in the class.
When I started therapy in my mid-twenties to deal with depression and panic attacks, I turned my overachieving tactics to self-improvement. I spent hours journaling, going to meetings, talking to mentors, reading books, and beating myself up when I fell into old habits.
I always worried: Was I doing it right? Was I making enough progress? Would I feel better, find enlightenment, or be a better person in the end?
That’s when I began to notice a pattern that surprised me.
I found that when I first had an insight, discovered a tool, or began a new practice, I got very excited. It worked wonders for me and I could feel a sense of growth and expansion.
I’d begin to try harder to generate more insights and discover more tools. But as I redoubled my efforts and worked harder at healing, I’d begin to feel anxious, self-critical, and depleted. The harder I tried, the less enlightened I felt.
At some point I’d give up. I’d let go of trying to become the next Buddha and accept the fact that I was just going to be neurotic and flawed the rest of my life.
And that’s when the insights and growth would start again. That’s when I would suddenly experience the most healing and notice the biggest changes in my life.
Why was this? I wondered.
And then one day it hit me: When we get injured, our body knows what to do and mends itself automatically—we don’t have to try. We’re designed to self-heal physiologically. It occurred to me then that perhaps we’re designed to self-heal mentally, emotionally, and spiritually as well.
Why We Don’t Need to Try So Hard
Once I recognized our capacity to self-heal, I began to see evidence of it everywhere. Here are three common ways I’ve seen it work:
1. The insight, answers, and wisdom we need are always within us and emerge in their own time.
One of the things I’ve learned through years of struggling with depression is that no matter how miserable, confused, and hopeless I feel, clarity always returns at some point and I know exactly what to do.
For instance, a few months ago I was feeling depressed for a few days and couldn’t for the life of me figure out why.
Then suddenly one night I woke up and it was clear: I was trying to do too much. I was overcommitted. I was doing too much to please other people.
What I really needed was space for rest and relaxation. I cut back on a couple of commitments and took some time to rejuvenate. The depression lifted and things started to go a lot better for me.
I get off-track a lot, but the wisdom is in there, and it always comes out when I allow space for it to emerge.
2. When we miss a lesson, we’ll get new opportunities to learn it until we get it.
Growing up, I struggled with my sister because when we fought, she would judge or blame me. I didn’t know how not to internalize that criticism and feel unworthy because of it.
Then, years later, I fell in love with a man who did the same thing. He helped me realize that when he got angry and blamed me, he was actually feeling vulnerable or hurt himself. I learned how to use his judgment to help me connect to compassion and love—for him and myself—rather than guilt and shame.
I didn’t consciously seek someone out who reminded me of my sister, but something within me drew me toward him, allowing me to work out a new way of dealing with blame.
3. Our pain won’t let us stay off course for long.
I was shocked when I learned that a runny nose and fever are more than mere byproducts of having a cold; they’re actually the body’s way of healing itself by flushing or burning out those mischievous germs.
Similarly, our pain and neuroses are often our spirit’s way of getting our attention and guiding us so we can heal.
Case in point: several years ago I began to have trouble sleeping. Falling asleep became more difficult and before long I was sleeping only three to six hours a night, if at all. I was exhausted, cranky, and miserable much of the time.
It took a long time, but eventually I noticed patterns in what kept me from sleeping. Some nights I would lie in bed wide awake until I finally allowed myself to feel an emotional response (i.e.: fear, anger, disappointment, etc.) that I was pushing away or avoiding. Once I felt the feeling, sleep came quite easily.
Other times I couldn’t sleep because I was being particularly hard on myself that day. I struggle with a very active inner critic and high expectations for myself, and on these nights sleep wouldn’t come until I dropped my critic’s attack and directed some compassion and love towards myself.
I had tried ignoring the problem, powering through, or finding quick fixes, but they didn’t work. The insomnia forced me to address what was at the heart of the issue. Far from being an unlucky curse, the pain of not sleeping actually helped me to take the next step on my path to healing and wholeness.
The Key to Allowing Self-Healing to Happen
The reason so many of us spend so much time in pain and misery (myself included) lies in the difference between our egos and our true selves.
Our true selves—who we are beneath the fears, the defense mechanisms, and the limiting beliefs—are wise, whole, and deeply connected to the larger world.
Our egos, on the other hand, feel separate and alone and rigidly hold onto a particular set of habits and identities in an effort to feel okay in the world. We all have access to both.
When I’m trying to grow and develop, I’m often caught in ego. I want something—peace, enlightenment, the respect of my peers, or an image of myself as an evolved person. I feel like I need to change something about myself in order to be worthy or good enough.
When I’m coming from ego, I obsess. I strive. I effort. I compare myself to others and become convinced that I’m the least enlightened creature on the planet.
All this striving and comparing is the mud that gums up the works of my self-healing process. That’s why it sometimes takes so long to work: I get in the way.
To allow my self-healing process to unfold with its full power, all I need to do is relax.
When I stop trying so hard, I reconnect with my true self. I have access to the fundamental wisdom and strength we all share. When I trust my inner workings to do their thing and simply observe what’s happening without trying to change it, my ego relaxes and healing happens naturally.
To that end, I’ve found a few questions that help me heal and grow with less interference:
Where am I striving with the intention of fixing myself or becoming more perfect? What would I do if I were to fully accept that I’m good enough as I am and that I’m exactly where I should be?
What would nourish and nurture me right now? What would help me relax and feel safe enough to let go of old patterns?
What is my inner wisdom trying to tell me right now? And if I’m not sure, how could I create enough space in my head and my life to hear what it has to say?
We don’t always receive satisfying answers right away. That’s okay—in my experience, if we keep asking the question long enough, eventually we’ll get more clarity. It just may take a little longer than we expected.
The process of relaxing into the process of change isn’t an easy one; knowing that I’m self-healing doesn’t mean my ego never gets stirred up or I don’t fall back into striving and obsessing. In fact, I believe that getting in our own way is an inevitable and enlightening part of the process, and I like to think that my inner wisdom is strong enough that it can handle whatever my inner foolishness throws at it.
At some point I always become aware that I’m efforting again, and that’s when I can chuckle, pat my ego on the head, and remind it that it doesn’t need to try so hard. I can return to the questions, listen for answers, and then pray for the willingness to let go once again.
Relax image via Shutterstock
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The Zen of Coloring: 7 Lessons on Living a Happy, Mindful Life
“The hand can never execute anything higher than the heart can imagine.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
I’ve been into mindfulness for a long time but having never been much of an artist, the mindfulness coloring craze had bypassed me until recently.
I brought a book and some colored pencils to keep me amused during a recent train trip but enjoyed it so much I’ve continued the habit—and to my surprise, the work I’ve done looks quite good!
I’d heard that mindful coloring is good for reducing stress levels and being more present, but I found even more benefits. For example, after coloring I noticed that I had flashes of inspiration and ideas that seemed to come out of nowhere for someone not usually known for their creative genius.
Coloring is less about passing time now and more about helping me connect to the present moment and activate the creative part of my brain. It has also taught me a few life lessons, which I’d like to share:
1. We create what we envision.
Life is a blank canvas; we make it what we want it to be.
Like the pages of my coloring book, each new day is blank with potential and possibility, and I get to choose what colors I use, how, and when, and the attitude with which I approach the page or the day.
I can spend the day creating amazing colors and fulfilling my potential, or I can complain about the blunt pencils, going out of the lines, and the many other things that may not be going right.
2. We’re all capable of creating beauty.
We are all capable of creating beauty, even if we think we can’t draw. I’ve spent many years believing I’m no good at art, but this has showed me I am still able to create pretty pictures, despite not being ‘an actual artist’!
The same is true of other roles we might want to try in life. We might think we’re not writers, or chefs, or enterpreneurs—but we can do more than we think, if only we’re willing to try. We can create something beautiful if we’re willing to see ourselves in a new light.
3. It doesn’t have to be perfect.
Mindful coloring has taught me to let go of perfection and unrealistic expectations of myself. Like life, my drawings don’t have to be perfect. It’s okay if I go out of the lines; mistakes are just bends in the road, not the end of the road. And if I’ve really messed it up I turn the page and start again.
On the flip side, when it goes right I’ve learned to take a moment to savor this and appreciate the beauty. Sometimes in life, whether it’s on the page and our own creation or out in the world and a natural phenomenon, it’s nice to stop for a moment and appreciate what we’ve done.
4. Good maintenance increases effectiveness.
The second investment I made after my coloring pencils was a sharpener. I realized you can’t draw nice pictures with blunt pencils, and keeping the implements in good shape is critical for effective results.
The same is true for ourselves; looking after our bodies and minds and prioritizing self-care allows us to perform at our peak.
Whatever you do in your personal or professional life, you’ll be far more effective if you exercise regularly, eat nutritious meals, recharge through contemplative practices like yoga and meditation, and get sufficient sleep.
5. Doing things we love isn’t wasting time.
Mindful coloring has taught me the importance of finding time to do what we love. Most people look at me funny when I say I’ve been coloring, almost as if I must have nothing better to do and am clearly not busy enough doing ‘important things’ like other grown ups.
It’s important that we have downtime and make time not just to do the things we love, but to play and flex our creative muscles as well. For me, that’s coloring; for you, that might be dancing, playing in a band, or riding your bike.
6. We’re never too old to play.
The misguided belief that coloring is for kids or that there are much more pressing things to spend our time on made me realize the importance of play.
I hadn’t colored since I was a kid. In our grown up world of busyness we have overlooked the importance of keeping in touch with our inner child, and this is how life can get dull and boring.
Not only does play keeps this interesting, it also relieves stress, boosts creativity, and can even improve brain function.
7. Less doing, more being.
Most of all, mindful coloring has showed me the art of less doing and more being, which is crucial in a world of overstretched, exhausted adults.
Mindfulness itself in any form is fabulous for returning us to the present and making us more aware. We can spend so much time going over the past or worrying about the future that we miss the present, and this is of course our lives—the moments we are in now.
It’s too easy to let life pass us by. Mindful activities give us the opportunity to be more present.
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I would never have thought something as simple as coloring could have brought me so much insight and joy.
Life is a lot like that—we never know what will enrich our lives until we give something a try. So go out there and create, and don’t worry about making it perfect. Just throw yourself into it and enjoy the process. And let yourself go out of the lines every now and then. Sometimes mistakes can be beautiful—and if not, you can always turn the page!
Adult coloring image via Shutterstock
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You Don’t Have to Appear Perfect: It’s Okay to Admit You’re Flawed
“Out of your vulnerabilities will come your strength.” ~Sigmund Freud
If you’re anything like I was, you have an image of yourself that you want other people to adopt. You think people expect that of you or would like you better if that’s who you were, so you pretend to be that person.
Over time, you put on layers of protection to prevent people from seeing the imperfections that would undermine that perception. You refuse to admit to those imperfections. You may also blame others, the weather, or fate for any perceived failure—anything but yourself.
As a result, you can’t interact with people in a real way because you can never let your guard down and be yourself. So your relationships are less than they could be.
And you can’t really grow, because that would involve admitting you have a weakness.
I’ve been there.
I spent decades trying to live up to the image I thought people wanted and expected of me: the golden-boy, the successful one, the smart one.
I am an only child and the oldest kid in my generation in my family. With that came a lot of pressure, mostly self-imposed.
I got good grades in smart-kid classes, I didn’t drink, I didn’t do drugs, I started on my high school basketball team, I could do things on my own without help, I didn’t make mistakes.
The problem was I did make mistakes. For example, when I was seventeen I wrecked my friend’s car because I didn’t look before I pulled into traffic, but I blamed the clutch.
After a basketball game in which I missed a few free throws, at the next practice, our coach put me on the free-throw line and made me shoot until I made two in a row.
Every time I missed, the whole team had to run except for me. The team ended up running twenty times before I finally hit the free throws. Instead of taking responsibility for not putting in the work to make sure I made the free throws, I blamed the coach for putting me in that “unfair” position.
When my college relationship broke up, I blamed my girlfriend for being clingy and selfish. But the reality was that we just weren’t right for each other and it had as much, or more, to do with me than it had to do with her.
What I perceived as clingy and selfish was just her totally reasonable reaction to my fear of commitment and my resulting withdrawal. Not recognizing that it was mostly my issue led to a series of relationships where I made similar mistakes, always concluding my partner was clingy—until I finally took a look in the mirror and recognized the only consistent variable was me.
In each of these examples, and countless other times, I just ignored my mistake or made some excuse for it and kept moving on because recognizing it wouldn’t fit in with the perfect version of myself I thought everyone expected.
The more time I spent being this polished up version of myself, the more removed I became from who I actually was. And it just built on itself all throughout adulthood.
In fact, even when I started being okay doing things I would have perceived as a mistake when I was younger, like drinking socially, I wouldn’t do it around my family. Not even at holiday functions when everyone else was drinking.
I felt like I needed to live up to the idealized version of myself that I envisioned they had. So I kept up appearances.
The longer I lived that version of life, the more difficult, almost impossible, it became for me to grow, because to do so meant I had to recognize I did actually make mistakes and had room to grow.
It may sound like I was conceited and super full of myself, but that wasn’t really it. It wasn’t that I believed I was perfect; I just needed everyone else to believe I was, which meant I had to pretend. I was terrified of anyone finding out it wasn’t true.
When I finally came to terms with the fact that playing perfect (unsuccessfully, I might add) was a terrible way to go about being happy, having real relationships, and making choices in life, it was terrifying.
It meant I had to do something I never really had before—admit weaknesses, admit I needed help with things, admit mistakes were my fault, not someone else’s or just bad luck.
Peeling off the layers of protection is an ongoing process. But it has allowed me to reach out for help and truly grow as a person for the first time in a long time.
Ironically, becoming vulnerable has allowed me to get closer to being (although certainly not actually becoming) the person I pretended to be for so long.
It can do the same thing for you.
You Aren’t Sir So and So, Take Off the Knight-like Suit of Armor
Being hurt sucks, whether it’s physically, mentally, or emotionally. So we protect ourselves from pain.
And we are generally good at minimizing the physical kind.
Our lives are climate-controlled, we rarely feel the pangs of hunger or a desperate thirst, we treat our illnesses and minor aches with medicines that knock them out before they really get started, and we rarely experience the loss of a loved one before old age.
All of that is great, and a fairly good list of why we should be thankful to live in the modern world rather than any of those that preceded it.
But we also spend a lot of energy protecting ourselves from the type of emotional pain that comes along with being authentic and vulnerable, admitting our weaknesses.
And, ironically, that causes us significant emotional pain because having to always be a shined-up, polished version of ourselves is hard and stressful.
Plus, it cheats us out of the type of emotional pleasure we want because when we aren’t authentic with people, it’s very difficult to have authentic emotional connections.
It also blocks our growth.
The longer you act as though you are perfect the way you are, the harder it is for you to see where you need or want to grow.
You become so used to acting perfect, you start to believe it. Maybe not intellectually, but subconsciously, you think, “I’m pretty good as I am. I just need a lucky break and then I’ll be happy and successful.”
And when you start putting the focus and power on your future success on something external like “a lucky break,” you fairly quickly lose any motivation for self-improvement and instead just sit around doing what you have been doing, waiting for fortune to smile on you one way or another.
This is not a great formula for improvement, or success for that matter.
Also, not being vulnerable makes it is difficult, if not impossible, to recruit anyone else to help you because to do so, you have to admit you aren’t perfect.
So how do you start this process?
The first step is to the difference between who you are and the version you show to the people in your life.
This will take time, because (if you are anything like me) you have been play-acting “super-you” for so long that it’s actually hard to tease out the difference. That’s okay.
Start small. Just listen to yourself talk to people over the next couple of days. In what situations do you say things you really don’t believe so that you can fit in? Are there particular people that you do it more often with?
Once you’ve identified your situations where you tend to cover up your flaws, the next step is doing something about it.
When you find yourself in the situations in which you tend to be less than honest about who you are, be diligent about being true to yourself. Stop yourself, or even correct yourself if you say something dishonest.
If you can start to be vulnerable in those situations, it will start to be much easier to do it throughout your entire day.
That has certainly been the case for me.
For a long time I regularly covered up my faults and weaknesses with my family because I desperately wanted to meet their expectations. So when they asked, everything was always great. School was great, work was great, and my relationship was great, even when they weren’t.
Once I decided to just be real with my family, my relationships with them, which had previously felt inauthentic, plastic, and rigid, started to warm, soften, and deepen.
The other situation where I was rarely, if ever, willing to admit mistakes was in athletics. When something went wrong while I was playing, it was always bad luck or someone else’s fault.
When I recognized my tendency to be inauthentic in team situations, and embraced it, taking responsibility when things were my fault, a couple things happened.
One, no one kicked me out and judged me as incompetent (which was my fear), and two, I was able to get help to get better at things.
Taking strides toward admitting my imperfections in these areas carried over to other situations too.
For example, I am now much more likely to admit that I did something wrong at home or in my personal relationships.
When you allow yourself to recognize you aren’t perfect, you will also be able pursue growth, stop making the same mistakes over and over again, and deepen your relationships with everyone you interact with.
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Shedding the layers of protection you have put on over the years is hard, but once you give yourself permission to do it, the freedom will feel tangible. You will breathe an exhilarating sigh of relief.
And once you’ve started the process, the momentum will carry you. You will start living a life and having relationships that are true to you, not to whatever you thought everyone else wanted from you.
And it is all within your power. You just have to decide, and then do it.
You were born to be real image via Shutterstock
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4 Life-Changing Lessons for People Who Struggle with Anxiety
“There is only one way to happiness and that is to cease worrying about things which are beyond the power of our will.” ~Epictetus
Sweaty. Hot. Shallow breathing.
Thoughts barreled through my mind like a never-ending freight train. I couldn’t keep up. It was everything all at once, blurred into nothing in particular.
I felt like I was about to jump off a cliff, nervous anticipation building into panic. My head was spinning. My hands trembled.
Choking down a gulp, I forced the tears back that wanted to cascade down my cheeks in sobs. There would be time for that later. This wasn’t the place.
My heart raced. I was on edge. I was on the edge.
I’d catch glimpses of my thoughts as they rumbled through my brain.
Impending foreclosure on our old house. The psychiatric hospital I had been to six months ago. Bankruptcy paperwork that still needed finished.
The kids trying to make friends at their new schools. My wife playing with the budget for hours to make ends meet. Me falling asleep in my car left running in the closed garage.
I was at work. I was having a severe panic attack. And I had to go home.
Luckily, most of my anxiety attacks aren’t this severe. And thankfully, they don’t happen too often any more. Happily, this attack, which came out of nowhere and hit hard, disappeared as quickly as it came on.
The longer I deal with and work to manage my anxiety, the more I find I can learn from it. This in turn helps me cope better the next time anxiety comes along.
Here are some things I’ve learned about anxiety through my years of dealing with it:
1. Anxiety is a lie.
No matter how close to home anxiety hits, there is always a lie hiding in it somewhere.
Maybe it’s based on a false belief. Maybe the problem doesn’t have to be dealt with as immediately as it feels. Maybe there are options we haven’t considered.
But anxiety always—always—contains a lie. It might be big and in our face or it could be small, tricky and subtle. Look hard enough and we will uncover it.
One of the most powerful tools I’ve gained through working with a therapist on anxiety is learning to look for the lie. It’s difficult at first; we have to sit with our anxiety and pick through it a little bit at a time, and that’s certainly not a comfortable thing to do, but if we’re careful and patient we can find the lie. Finding the lie takes the teeth out of the anxiety.
And when we take the teeth away from anxiety, we can really begin to free ourselves. Anxiety needs a hook; it needs something to gnaw at us to keep it forward in our minds. By finding the lie and taking that hook away, we take away anxiety’s power over us.
2. “Should” should be a four-letter word.
Unreasonable expectations are, for me, at least, one of the biggest causes of anxiety. Some of the expectations I still struggle with are patterns of thinking that I can trace back to when I was a child. Because they’re so deeply engrained, they’re some of the toughest to get rid of.
When I was a kid, I was pretty smart. Things came easily to me. I learned quickly.
My parents, meaning to encourage me, told me I could do anything I wanted. And I believed them. And I started to expect anything I wanted out of myself.
When you’re a kid, you can get away with that. If I wanted to do something, I’d learn it and do it, end of story. As an adult, things became more complicated.
We can’t just want a particular job and make it happen. There are too many outside circumstances and other people involved. I should do that particular job isn’t just something that happens when you put your mind to it.
When we start thinking about how we should be, we can really get ourselves into a trap. We should be this to that person and this when we do that—we’re just continually setting ourselves up to fail. “Should” doesn’t allow for any wiggle-room or compromise.
“Should” can hurt us in other ways too.
3. “Perfect” should be a four-letter word, too.
I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so for me, being good at something isn’t good enough. I should be perfect, dammit! Please tell me you caught the “should” in that statement, right?
Perfectionism is my old reliable. My trusty friend. My almighty hammer.
The expectations that come from perfectionism can bury us alive. It’s a never-ending race that we’re never going to win.
No matter how much I want to, I will never be the perfect husband, father, or son. The amount of anxiety I have felt in my forty-two years of life trying to be one of these three things is immeasurable. Think about how much time I’ve wasted worrying about being something I could never be.
Perfect is such a damaging expectation, in any respect. When “good” or “just okay” will suffice in most situations, why do we torture ourselves chasing an impossible ideal?
The truth is, when perfectionists start settling for “good” is when we really start to shine. We’re unencumbered by the restraint of high expectation and that allows us to work to really high levels—levels we’ve probably been failing to hit in the past.
Anxiety comes about when we place these unattainable, perfect goals in front of ourselves. And our failures, which we will most certainly encounter, only serve to push us harder after our goals. Perfectionism becomes a never-ending cycle of anxiety and failure that we need to let go of.
4. Anxiety is an ultimatum.
The last lesson I’m taking away from this recent panic attack is this: anxiety always makes you an ultimatum. All or nothing. Black or white.
There is no gray area when it comes to anxiety. Now don’t get me wrong, anxiety will hide in the subtleties of our doubts, but it will force us into taking a black and white view of ourselves, our situation, or our surroundings. Anxiety leads us to think that we’ve got only one choice to make.
In my panic attack, I got overwhelmed by several different situations I’m dealing with right now. I am facing foreclosure on the house I’ve just moved out of. I am in the process of filing for bankruptcy.
My kids are having to adjust to being the new kids at their schools since we’ve moved. We do have to be careful with our money right now. I am scared that I will have to go back to the psychiatric hospital again—or worse.
But my anxiety attack turned all of these things into ultimatums for me. I felt like I had to resolve all of these issues at once (and immediately!) or the world would end. The fear I felt was so strong I was unable to think these problems through rationally.
Once I did get home from work, I cried myself to sleep. Waking up, I could feel that the fear had left me. I was able to look at myself, the anxiety attack, and my problems in a clear-headed manner.
What I saw was man suffering from anxiety, having been hit, but not harmed, by severe panic. I saw a man that was regaining his composure, a man who was moving on. I saw a man who was stronger for what he had just been through.
Peaceful man image via Shutterstock
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We Don’t Need to “Fix” Our Appearance to Be Beautiful
“Kindness and awareness work together. Through awareness we understand the underlying beauty of everything and every being.” ~Amit Ray
We were in Yorkshire—my brother, sister, and I—driving along narrow, windy roads. Sometimes we would come up a steep incline and be unable to see the rest of the road until we got to the crest. It was a little bit scary.
It could have been worse, but that night it was a full moon and even though it was almost midnight, there was a great deal of light in the darkness. We were not normally out that late but had been to an evening theater show in Harrogate, which was about an hour and a half drive from where we were staying.
My sister and I were playing CDs and talking to keep my brother awake, although between the bright moonlight and the difficulty of the route, I imagine sleep was the last thing on his mind! Possibly it was just knowing he was uncomfortable with that type of driving that was really motivating us to stay awake ourselves.
We were chatting about the day’s events and planning what we would do for the rest of the week. Then, as we slowed down and came round a bend, right in front of us was the shell of an old abbey. We appeared to be in the middle of nowhere, so we were truly surprised by the fact that it was there.
Gazing at it for just a few moments, the three of us were awed by the underlying beauty in the remnants of the ancient building.
Eventually we made it home, after midnight. All of us exhausted, but happy to be finding our way to our respective beds. As I lay there in the dark, I couldn’t help thinking how magical the ruins of that old abbey had seemed.
Maybe it was the moonlight shining through what was left of the priory windows, or the sheer height of the building. Or perhaps it was the unexpectedness of encountering it so far away from a town or village.
Whatever it was, as I fell asleep I remained enchanted with the picture in my mind—the image of that dilapidated abbey, which still retained so much of its original majesty and beauty.
In the morning as I meditated alone in my room, I started thinking about perfection, about beauty, and the obsession that seems prevalent in our culture today.
I wondered why so many people go to such extraordinary lengths to stay looking young, to reject any signs of aging, and to “fix” those aspects of themselves that do not conform to what is considered beautiful.
I thought about the magnificence of the abbey—that despite the deterioration, the building was still exquisite. I recalled that there in the moonlight, it was easy to see the graceful lines, the lovely arches, the grandness of what it had once been. Yes, the stained glass windows I imagine it once had were long gone, but for me it did not need to be perfect; its loveliness still touched my heart.
How much more true must this be for those we know, care about, and love? Does anyone really need to hold on to what time and loving has altered? Do wrinkles need to be removed, teeth whitened, or bodies lifted and tucked?
Surely the beauty of who we are does not diminish in the eyes of those around us, because we look a little, or even a lot older?
It’s not that I am against anything anyone does. I don’t feel it is wrong to try and improve your looks. It is more that I believe it is not necessary.
Through awareness, I have learned that everything and everyone has an underlying beauty.
For a long time I was very focused on beauty. I only saw beauty on the outside, was critical and judgmental. I used the word ugly. But with spiritual awareness, I now look at things and people differently. I have become kinder—more willing to observe from my heart.
I know that true beauty does not lie in perfection, or in only looking as young as possible. I have no desire to hold onto or create an illusion of youth. I am happy to accept my face, my body the way it is, knowing this is a natural part of the experience of living.
Here in my heart is the sum of the learning I have gained and the wisdom I have acquired, from all I have gone through. Here in my heart is the peace that has come from knowing myself, from loving myself. Here too, is the love I hold—the memories I have—for all the gentle souls I have known, who touched my life in the most beautiful of ways.
These days, what I see in those I know and love are not flaws or signs of aging, but the beauty that shines through—the result of tears we have cried, smiles we have shared, and the love that binds us together.
Though my eyes may take in what time or illness has altered, my heart looks with loving kindness at the person before me. And, noticing only what has always been there—a loving, caring, supportive, accepting being—my soul acknowledges and marvels at the underlying beauty of the person I see.
Happy mature woman image via Shutterstock
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Why We Don’t Need to Be Like Anybody Else
“The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself.” ~Anna Quindlen
When I first committed to becoming more spiritual, I decided that I wanted to be ‘perfect.’ I avoided red meat, cheese, alcohol, and sugar (and anything else that was considered “low vibration”), and ate organic food.
I never complained or uttered a negative word about anything or anyone. I meditated three to four times a day, when I woke up, in the afternoon, and at night before I went to sleep.
You’d never see an emotion on my face. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. And when I got angry, I quelled it like a storm that was forming in the distance that just didn’t have enough power.
I was serenity incarnate. I did everything I thought that true spirituality was.
And I fought and strained for my identity of perfection. This was how I was going to show up in the world.
The truth was, I preferred eating healthy. But at times I wanted to eat chocolate chip cookies, brownies, and cheeseburgers and watch mind-numbing reality television. I wanted to cry, get mad, and just have a good rant. But I suppressed it all.
While I was living in Los Angeles I went to a three-hour meditation event. I had no idea that it was going to change my entire life.
I paid at the front desk, walked to the back of the Metaphysical center, took off my shoes, and entered the room.
It smelled of sage and those instant light charcoals they burn in hookahs. There was a large copper triangle hanging from the ceiling. Pictures of chakras and angels hung on the walls. No music was playing, nor was anyone talking; all I heard was the shifting of people in their seats.
There were three rows of semi-circle seats. I sat in the back row. Each chair had one sheet of paper with a prayer to create sacred space. I picked mine up, folded it in half, and placed it in my lap.
I could feel my bare feet against the smooth carpet, the cold metal armrests against the forearms of my chair, and the remnants of sweat drying on my forehead.
The first two rows were almost full by a group of people in their late twenties and early thirties dressed in loose fitting white clothing. They wore cotton, arm length V-necks. Their pants flowing, cuffs ending just below the ankle bone.
A few minutes later, the workshop leader entered the room. He looked to be in his early thirties. From where I sat, no creases lined his eyes. He had chocolate brown hair that bounced as he walked, brown eyes, and olive skin.
He also dressed in white, loose fitting clothes, with black mala beads hanging around his neck.
Everyone in white greeted him. He smiled and greeted them.
He introduced himself, thanked us for attending, and led a prayer to create sacred space. His voice seemed to echo off the walls. Despite everyone else saying the prayer, he was the only one I could hear.
He asked everyone to sit down at the close of the prayer.
He sat at the front center of the room in an armless metal chair with a black cushion and crossed his legs. The mala beads around his neck shifted and clicked as he got into position.
The light from the ceiling seemed to shine down just right, illuminating the front of his face.
When he spoke, it felt kind.
He taught in stories and shared with us all of the places he’d traveled to and the lessons he’d learned along the way. He gave us mantras that we could use to bless the energy of a room and showed us ways that we could connect with our soul’s purpose.
Almost every sentence he spoke contained wisdom or something deeply profound.
My idea of ‘real spirituality’ and what I was working toward becoming was right in front of me.
But…
I felt a pang of sadness. I stared at him speaking, back straight in his chair, relaxed chin, and his hands rested, one-on-top of the other in his lap. He never said an, “um” or an “oh.” Everything he did seemed effortless.
And the other people dressed in white (which I realized were his students) looked at him intently. No one spoke, looked at one another, or checked their phone. They all focused their attention on him.
My eyes dropped, I sank in my chair, slouching. My head hunched over staring at my lap. I realized I would never be like him. I’d never reach his level of spiritual awareness and composure.
But then it hit me.
Suddenly, me eyes widened, my mouth parted slightly, I took a deep breath and I felt a knowingness come over me. In my sadness, I realized that I didn’t want to be like this man.
It was absolutely impossible to attain his level of awareness because that was his unique expression in this world. I would never be like him because I wasn’t him, and he would never be like me, and that was the best part about it.
I had my own awareness to attain, my own mark to make upon this world. I wasn’t going to accomplish it trying to be someone else or an idea of perfection. I just had to be me and the rest would fall into place.
I sat straight up, neck straight, feet flat on the floor. I smiled, and then closed my eyes, knowing that I was absolutely perfect being myself. We all are. We just have to believe it and stop trying to be someone else.
Man looking in mirror image via Shutterstock
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We Are Enough and We Don’t Need to Be Perfect
“You alone are enough. You have nothing to prove to anybody.” ~Maya Angelou
Every day on TV, the media tells us how we should be and how we should look.
In mainstream society we are taught to identify with our physical body and our possessions.
We are led to believe that if we look a certain way, we will be happier, loved more, and accepted by others. I used to believe this. I bought into it hook, line, and sinker.
I came across a photo of myself taken about twelve years ago, and I looked radiant. The sun lit up behind me, my skin looked porcelain, and I had this amazing red hair.
I looked at myself and thought how beautiful I was. At the same time I looked at that girl in the photo and she was a stranger. The girl felt anything but beautiful.
She hated herself, felt unworthy of love, and thought she didn’t belong because she wasn’t thin enough or pretty enough.
Growing up I was a victim of child abuse and bullying. It played a large role in my thinking in later years.
My father used to call me his ugly little girl, and he also used to be cruel to my mother, who was overweight at the time. So I knew that when I grew up, I would have to be thin and pretty to be loved.
I also had thick glasses as a child, and kids often screamed the nickname “fish eyes” across the school bus during middle school years. At that time in my life, my peers excluded me, my father ostracized me, and the physical abuse I endured weighed heavily on my chest.
Fast forward to college. I was a theatre major.
My voice teacher got me my first professional gig, and she believed in me. My talent got me leading roles many times, and I felt confident. Then the time came to sit down with an agent to be represented.
It wasn’t about talent anymore. I was told how my physical appearance didn’t stack up to the competition. I could easily give you the list of all the things that were “wrong” with me. What was right with me?
I wasn’t pretty enough, which subconsciously meant “not good enough.” I wasn’t asked to sing, or read a scene, or even do the one-minute monologue that I had prepared.
This was my past, not my present, and definitely not my future. I now know I am enough. And if someone else doesn’t see my worth, it’s okay. I am enough! It’s even written on my yoga mat.
As a yoga teacher it took me some time to get over the search for the perfect posture. Even yoga magazines post photos of the extremely limber, handstand steady, beautify poised, and lean types. So many think that’s how it’s supposed to be.
Yoga magazines teach us to identify to our physical body because our eyes take it all in and we believe that’s what yoga is about. The words in the magazines say differently, but our eyes take in the images of yoga models and our brains perceive them as perfectly poised, inferring that this is what yoga is.
For some, this may be a reason not to practice. There is still this belief that yoga is meant for the thin, agile, and bendy. This isn’t what the practice is about.
I began my yoga practice to gain self-improvement, and I got self-acceptance. Self-improvement came along for the ride.
I began to see my worth as a human being. Instead of “thin,” I think “healthy.” Instead of looking for beauty in the mirror, I found it inside of me, and it was there all along.
Losing five pounds won’t make me any happier. If I do a perfect forearm stand, my life doesn’t change. It doesn’t mean I stop trying or working toward goals, but I stop identifying my body and physical practice with who I am.
I stop identifying my physical appearance with self-worth. I am not my tight muscles. I am not my weight, or my jean size, or even my yoga practice. I am enough. I am me.
Some of you may be thinking, “How does a yoga practice do all that?” Time and patience.
I began my journey unable to touch my toes. The day I did there was no fanfare, no choir of angels singing, no fireworks, and no party. There was room and if felt good.
The day I was finally able to stand on my head without a wall, something amazing happened. Nothing. If I fell on my face in an arm balance (and I have), the same thing happened. Nothing. No one would stop and stare, laugh, or point, because everyone was in their own practice.
Over time we begin to put our fears and ego aside. Over time we begin to listen to our body and become more aware, judging it less and loving it more.
We figure out the lessons we learn on our mat translate to the real world. The world doesn’t change, but our perception of it does.
Stress doesn’t go away, but the way we deal with it changes. When we are kinder to ourselves, we become kinder to others. When we love ourselves, become compassionate and patient with ourselves, we are able to give it away freely to others.
I have learned over the years I am not my past. I am not what happened to me, and I am not my physical body. My body is a vehicle that takes me through this world. Yoga is a tool to help me take care of that vehicle while I honor my entire being.
I am so much more, I have so much to give, and I am perfect just the way I am. As I go through life there will always be someone who will criticize and judge. Let them. It speaks more about them than it does about me.
I want you to know that you are amazing and perfect just the way you are. Criticize yourself less, love yourself more, and you will be happier.
True beauty is found within. Almost every class I teach, I will say, “Practice makes…” and wait for an answer. Someone usually shouts, “…perfect!” I reply with, “…progress, because you already are perfect.”
We have been brainwashed to think that perfection is outside of ourselves. The perfect house, car, family, and life. The perfect body. The perfect pose.
We have been brainwashed to strive for perfection. All this striving makes us miserable. We can have goals, work toward them, and become better at things, but when we identify them with who we are, it steals our joy.
A dear friend and teacher says, “Never give up. Always let go.” So keep moving forward, and never give up. You are precious and priceless.
When we find our true nature, this is where happiness lies. Joy cannot be found outside of ourselves.
If there is something you don’t like, change it, but don’t identify with it. Every day be the best you that you can be by loving yourself.
Look in the mirror every morning and pick something nice to say to yourself.
You may think that this is ridiculous and obvious, but we spend more time looking in the mirror criticizing than honoring ourselves. Make this a daily habit. You can even use a favorite quote or affirmation to set the tone for the day.
Journal—write down all the things that make you wonderful and read them. Even tougher, read them out loud.
Another tip toward self-love is meditation. This is scientifically proven to change the chemistry in the brain, reduce depression, and change negative thought pattern among other things.
The path to love and joy isn’t difficult; however, the tough part is letting go of all the brainwashing from our past and the media. Invest time in you, and the rewards will be great!
Imperfection is beauty image via Shutterstock
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5 Beliefs About Happiness That Make Us Unhappy
“There is only one cause of unhappiness: the false beliefs you have in your head, beliefs so widespread, so commonly held, that it never occurs to you to question them.” ~Anthony de Mello
Do you believe in soul mates?
I did. I also believed that the only way to be blissfully happy was to be with mine.
At a New Year party, I finally found her. As we chatted and danced through the evening, we fell in love. It seemed perfect.
Life, however, had other plans. Soon after, she moved to another city. I never saw her again but continued to be in love with her for the next four years.
Why? Because I was consumed by the belief that she was my soul mate, and that fate would bring us back together someday.
It’s strange, isn’t it? How each of us have our own beliefs about the “secret to happiness.” We live our lives in accordance with those beliefs, rarely questioning them.
Over those four years, my belief that I could never be happy with anyone else held me back from finding love and happiness elsewhere.
But I was so wrong. I did meet someone else later and have been gleefully together with her for ten years now!
We define our reality by what we believe.
Our beliefs make us who we are and determine the choices we make. Very often, those beliefs, far from leading us into happiness, bring us truckloads of pain and trouble.
The good news? We can be far happier and contented simply by altering our beliefs and looking at the world differently.
Here are five beliefs about happiness that actually make us unhappy:
Belief 1: I need other people’s approval to be happy.
Do you often do things only to please other people?
Human beings are driven by “social proof.” Approval is extremely important to us.
We wait to buy the latest gadgets to look cool. We attend boring office parties to fit in. We don’t pursue our dreams because our families don’t approve.
But just ask yourself: Are these actions (or inactions) bringing you any real happiness?
The pursuit of approval is very different from the pursuit of happiness. Let’s not fail to distinguish between the two.
Belief 2: I will be happy when I have…
…a bigger house, a promotion, a baby, awards, respect, those designer shoes!
Dr. Tal Ben-Shahar calls this the “arrival fallacy” in his book Happier. It’s the belief that when you arrive at a certain destination (or attain a specific goal), you will be happy.
The reason why this belief is so strong is because it’s partly true. Yes, you will feel happy when you get promoted or buy a house.
The question is: Is this happiness lasting?
While you will escape your landlord’s ranting, you will have to pay new taxes and spend good money maintaining your new house.
Each level of accomplishment will bring its own set of problems.
Does this mean you stop working toward your goals? No! Goals are important, and one needs to be ambitious.
However, think about this: You can be happy now and also when you get the promotion.
Do you really need to postpose your happiness?
Belief 3: I can’t be happy unless everything goes right.
Have you ever lost your luggage on a vacation? It upsets everything, doesn’t it?
Instead of enjoying the charms of a wonderful new city (or countryside), you’re running around buying clothes and other stuff, wondering if the airline will ever return your luggage.
That’s what happened on a vacation with my family.
Strangely, now when we think about that vacation, the trouble we faced because of the lost luggage doesn’t bother us. We just talk about the wonderful time we had.
The vacation didn’t have to be perfect. The only thing that really mattered to us was that we had an opportunity to have a great time together.
Think about it: are vacations, parties, dates, or any other special occasions ever perfect? If something goes wrong does that mean the entire trip or evening is a failure?
Yes, it is a failure, but only if you believe so.
Let’s extend the discussion further: Is anything in life ever perfect? We have ups and downs every day.
Life is imperfect—perhaps that’s what make it more interesting!
Belief 4: I can’t be happy because of what’s happened in the past.
The past controls us in mysterious ways.
You might have lost a loved one to misunderstanding or death. You might have failed to achieve your dreams. As a result, you may have developed one of these beliefs: “I am not meant to find happiness” or “It’s not my destiny to be happy.”
Personally, I haven’t lost much in life, but I know someone who has. I used to wonder how she could enjoy life despite such tragedies, until she revealed her simple secret…
She believes that she has the right to be happy, despite her past misfortunes.
Your past doesn’t control your future unless you let it. Millions have turned their lives around. If they can be happy, why can’t you?
Belief 5: Happiness is not a habit that can be learned.
Can you actually learn to be happy? Like learning baseball or the guitar?
Yes. Happiness is a skill—one that you build through a number of daily choices.
Numerous studies have indicated that people who are happier have certain habits: they exercise, meditate, pay attention to their relationships, pursue their goals diligently, lead balanced lives, are grateful.
Research shows that by thwarting negative emotions, such as pessimism, resentment, and anger, and fostering positive emotions, such as empathy, serenity, and gratitude, the brain can be trained to become happier.
Happiness does not depend on fate; it depends on our habits—habits that anyone can learn.
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Our beliefs can bring us happiness or sorrow.
Question your beliefs about yourself, your life, and happiness from time to time. See if they still serve a positive purpose. If not, change them.
What beliefs do you think you need to change to be happier?
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The Power of Starting Small and Not Needing to Be the Best
“Better to do something imperfectly than to do nothing flawlessly.” ~Robert H Schuller
I have tried for so long to build a meditation habit. Seriously, it’s been one of my biggest goals for more than a decade.
And I’ve tried really hard. I’ve read books, I’ve taken classes, I’ve made accountability charts, I’ve set SMART goals; I’ve done it all.
Sometimes, I’ll fall into a good rhythm, and I might make it onto my mat three or four days in a row. Then sometimes, three whole months will go by without me managing to do it at all.
So what gives? Why can’t I make it happen? What am I doing wrong, after ten years of trying?
I decided to dig deeper into what was happening inside my poor little monkey mind that might be hindering my progress.
It took me by surprise when I realized that no matter what my practice has actually looked like over the years, whether I’d been totally diligent or utterly neglectful, there had been one constant the entire time: I’ve always felt like I needed to be the best at meditation.
Yep, that’s the phrase that actually popped into my mind, word for word, when I tried to unpack what was going on: the best at meditation.
I know what you’re thinking: What does that even mean? How can you be “the best” at something like meditation?
And let me tell you, I know how dumb it sounds. Meditation, by its very nature, is about not having attachment to such things as results or outcomes. I mean, it’s about being in the moment, not about getting an A+ rating or a bunch of gold-stars.
And yet I felt like I needed to be awesome at it. To be better than others. To bypass beginner status and immediately step into the category of “expert.”
I kept getting this image in my head: me, perched perfectly still in lotus position, the dawn sunshine on my face, wind blowing gently in my beautifully beachy hair, my outfit crisp and white, and my face a perfect vision of peace and tranquility.
(Never mind that I am not a morning person, that the lotus position gives me pins and needles, that my hair is more bushy than beachy, and that I don’t even own any crisp white clothes.)
When I dug deeper, I realized there was a follow-on thought from my attachment to this vision and my need for achievement: If I couldn’t be awesome at meditation, if I couldn’t achieve perfection… there was no point.
That was my unconscious thought pattern.
Which was why I always aimed for ridiculously long sessions; if I didn’t have a full thirty minutes to devote to it, what was the point?
It was why I was so disappointed if my mind wandered; if I didn’t give an A+ performance, what was the point?
It is why I’d feel like a failure if I didn’t do it first thing in the morning (even though my late-night work sessions made that completely impractical); if I hadn’t done a dawn session, what was the point?
And it was why I would get so down on myself if I missed a single day; if I couldn’t keep a perfect score card, what on earth was the point?
All in all, it’s no wonder I haven’t been able to make this habit stick. At every step of the journey, I’ve been psyching myself out of making any progress by expecting supreme, utter perfection.
In the past, this type of thinking has reared its head in other areas of my life too: if I can’t go to the gym for at least a full hour, there’s no point, right?
If I can’t eat 100% healthy for the rest of the week, I may as well write the next few days off, yeah?
And if I can’t fit in a long, uninterrupted stretch of writing time, there’s no point pulling out my notebook at all, amiright?!
Thankfully, over the years I’ve become aware of these perfectionist tendencies, and have developed a few mental strategies and ninja tricks to overcome them. (Don’t have time for a full gym session? Do half an hour of power yoga in the lounge room instead. Revolutionary, huh?)
But it’s taken me oh-so-long to realize that I was also doing it in my meditation practice; that I was letting my pursuit of perfection hold me back from inner peace.
Now that I know, I’m trying to let go of all expectations on myself when it comes to gettin’ my Zen on. In fact, my meditation sessions these days have been pared right back to the simplest, most achievable, most non-perfect thing I could think of.
Want to know what that looks like? (Prepare yourself for the profoundness!)
Two minutes of meditation, every one or two days.
That’s it.
And, if I haven’t managed to pull it off during the day, I do it in the shower at night, just before I go to bed (yep, standing there, suds and all, with not a lotus position in sight).
It’s minimal, it’s manageable, and it’s achievable. It’s also effective for quieting my monkey mind and giving me the tiny pockets of peace and stillness I crave so much.
I’m now on my fourth week of this new approach, and I’m happy to report that by releasing my expectations of perfection. In fact, by embracing the fact that I am going to mess up, and by giving myself some wiggle room and a short-cut to get around it, I’ve actually been more mindful in the past month than I’ve been for a really long time.
And I’ve definitely ended up with more time spent on the mat through these little baby steps than when I was aiming for giant, dramatic leaps.
It’s been an eye-opening lesson, and one that I’m very grateful for.
So now I want to ask you, dear one, are you letting perfection hold you back from achieving something you really want?
Could you cut yourself a break and aim for “okay” instead of “awesome”? It might sound counterintuitive in our culture of comparison and perfection, but the results might just take you by surprise.
Start now image via Shutterstock
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10 Things to Stop Doing If You Want to Be Happy
“It isn’t what you have, or who you are, or where you are, or what you are doing that makes you happy or unhappy. It is what you think about.” ~Dale Carnegie
There was a time when I didn’t think I could ever be happy.
I felt alone. I felt confused. And I felt overwhelmed.
Luckily, that all began to change when I started looking inside. I discovered how I was the cause of my unhappiness.
And I discovered what stood between me and enjoying life.
Here are ten of the things I discovered:
1. Neglecting yourself and your needs
One of the biggest things was that I was ignoring what was right for me. I looked outside for the answers.
I looked to friends and society to tell me how to live my life. It was too painful to discover what I needed, so I gave away my power and hoped that would solve everything.
It didn’t.
Eventually, I realized that no one really knows how to live a happy life. Some seem confident, but they don’t really know.
Even the happiest of people go through dark times. When I began noticing what I felt drawn to do and what felt right for me, things began to change.
It happened slowly. I wasn’t confident at first, but I began to listen to my inner GPS.
2. Ignoring your inner GPS
As I began listening to myself, I saw that I had an inner guidance system within me.
I didn’t call it that then. It communicated with me through feeling. When something was right for me, I felt peace, joy, and curiosity inside.
When something wasn’t right, it felt lifeless, dead.
I began to see that trying to figure life out logically didn’t work, because my mind couldn’t foresee the future.
The heart is what I would call my inner GPS. It nudges me through life, one moment at a time. I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I’m on the right track when I listen to my heart.
3. Resisting darkness
Life contains both dark and light.
It sounds counterintuitive, but when you embrace the darkness, you open the door to the light.
I’ve gone through some dark, depressive periods in my life. I used to resist them, a lot. Today I do it less.
I know that it is through these dark times that I learn the most. I dive inside. I breathe it all in, and I notice what it is that’s making me quiver with fear.
I investigate my internal reality and stay in the present moment.
This is hard to do when I’m feeling down. I want to run away to food, movies, games, books, and anything but the darkness.
But when I dive in, I see that the darkness is nothing but a virtual reality created by me. I look at the fear of not having enough, and I see that what I’m afraid of is a thought I choose to entertain.
4. Saying ”no” to the now
The more I try to escape the present moment, the more miserable I am.
When I stay right here, right now, even the most ordinary tasks become extraordinary. Washing the dishes feels alive.
But if I try to exchange the now for a future paradise, I live in a present hell.
Being in the now, for me, is simply about noticing what’s here, right now. As I write this, I hear my fingers tap-tap-tapping away on the keyboard.
I notice the hum of the electronics on my desktop, and I feel my body on the chair.
And above all, I feel my feelings fully. I’m feeling a bit anxious as I write this. And that’s okay. It’s normal to feel anxious.
5. Being afraid of making mistakes
If I am afraid of making mistakes, I assume that I have something to lose.
I also assume that there is a perfect way of doing something.
Yet, I cannot know any of this. I don’t know if making a mistake helps me grow (which it often does). And I don’t know if making a mistake is the perfect path for me.
You see, we live in our heads. We manufacture a reality that we then believe is real when it’s not.
A hundred years from now, my mistakes won’t matter. What will matter (for me) is how much I loved and how much I enjoyed life.
I’m human. You’re human. We make mistakes. That’s okay, as long as we’re honest with ourselves.
6. Aiming for perfection
I try to be perfect because I think it’ll bring approval from others, from you.
And that approval will make me feel loved and feel good about myself.
Yet, the act of trying to be perfect means dismissing myself. It means not loving who I am right now. It means not doing what I can with what I have.
I have an image of what perfect is, and it always seems to be out of my reach.
I’m striving to feel better, but the only thing I manage to do is to feel worse in this moment. When I notice the scam of perfection, I return to the present moment.
I breathe. I do my best. And I follow my heart.
This applies for staying in the present moment as well. I’m not in the now all the time. I try to accept whatever comes.
7. Chasing happiness
I often fall into the habit of chasing happiness.
But to me, it’s more like I’m avoiding my feelings. I feel bad, so I want to be happy. I create an image of a future where I’m happy, and I long for it.
I want it now.
I think to myself, ”If only I had that, I could be happy.”
Yet, that thought is the one keeping me stuck. The wanting happiness snatches me out of the present moment.
When I let go of wanting to be somewhere else, I notice what’s right here. Sometimes it isn’t what I want, but even what I think I want is another thought.
Each thought that says I need something else is an opportunity for me to stay in the present moment.
8. Trying to control life
I don’t control life.
I control my reactions and actions but not much else.
When I try to manipulate life, people, and places, I end up exhausted. It’s not my domain. It’s not up to me to control outcomes.
All I can do is follow my heart, my inner GPS, and see what happens. I am a passenger in this body, on this blue planet of ours.
I am here to experience both the good and the bad. I am here to learn and to grow. To cry and to laugh.
9. Putting off your dreams
Dreams are scary.
It took me two to three years to muster up the courage to write about the things I truly wanted to write about.
I was afraid of what you would think, what you would do. I was afraid of failing, of succeeding, of everything.
Eventually, I realized that I could give in to my assumptions or I could take the next step and see what would happen.
Luckily, I took the next step. And you know what? Nothing bad happened.
I wrote. I told people about my work. My audience grew. And years later, here I am. Here you are, reading my words.
My dreams began with one step, and so will yours.
Stop waiting for a grand opportunity and notice the doors that are open now. It might only mean starting a blog that has ten readers or writing in your journal. But start somewhere.
And start before you feel ready.
10. Trying to fix others
I used to think it was my responsibility to fix others, even if it meant forcing them to see things my way, and it compromised my happiness and theirs.
I now let people travel their own path.
You have mistakes you need to make. You have experiences to collect. I am not going to stand in the way of that.
If you come to me for help, I will help, but I will not force my truth on you.
I cannot control life, and I cannot control you. When I see that life will take care of itself, I have no need to control you.
This has been especially hard with my loved ones, but I’m learning. I’m improving every day.
There is no fixing, because I do not know what perfection is. If we are here to experience life, then perfection is experience.
There are no mistakes, no blunders, and no pitfalls.
There is only this moment.
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There are many things I’ve learned during my life, but one of the main things is that we tend to take our thoughts too seriously.
We tend to take life too seriously.
I think that if I make a mistake, my dreams are ruined. But when I see the assumptions behind that sentence, and when I see that my dreams are a figment of my imagination, I am liberated.
I remember that all I have to do, all I can do, is follow my inner GPS.
I can only do what excites me, and life will take care of the rest.
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How to Motivate Yourself Instead of Criticizing Yourself
“I define depression as a comparison of your current reality to a fantasy about how you wish your life would be.” ~Dr. John Demartini
I always wanted to do things “right.” I was the little kid at the front of the room, raising her hand for every question. I was great at pushing myself to succeed and please.
My drive to be perfect was an asset through college and law school. I rocked high grades and landed a big firm job right out of school. But that same drive drove me right into a therapist’s office at twenty-five, where I was diagnosed with severe depression.
Then just like any good perfectionist, I drove myself harder to overcome the depression, to be more perfect. I Cookie Monstered personal growth, intensely gobbling up books, lectures, retreats, and coaching.
Have you ever been cruising along, then suddenly realized you’ve been going the wrong way for a while?
When I had suicidal thoughts in my thirties after giving birth to my daughter, my intense drive came to a screeching halt. My desire to be perfect had driven me into a deep and scary postpartum depression.
My thoughts were no longer mine, and for the first time in my life I was afraid of what was happening in my head. Something had to shift.
So I went on a new journey, one designed to find out (for real this time) how to reduce the daily suffering that I knew I was causing myself. What I learned shifted my entire life. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Let me walk you through my journey. Maybe you can discover something about yourself along the way.
To Motivate or To Berate—That is the Question
Like all good journeys, mine starts with a hero (me) and a villain (my inner critic voice). Now, that “little voice” for me was not little at all. It was more like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man in Ghostbusters, the mean one with the scary eyes.
One day I decided to turn toward my Mean Marshmallow Man Voice and ask it questions. Why must I be perfect? Why are you always criticizing me?
“Because you’re not perfect.” It said, with a booming voice. “You’re not…” and then it went on to list about 2,000 things that I was failing to do, be, say, or accomplish.
But this time, when I pictured all of these 2,000 things, I started to imagine the person who would actually have done all of those things. Who would this person be, this perfect version of me? Let’s name her Perfect Lauren.
Well, let’s see. Perfect Lauren would never let the clothes on her floor pile up, or the mail go unread. Perfect Lauren wouldn’t spend hours watching The Walking Dead or surfing Facebook. Perfect Lauren would work out every day, in the morning, before work.
Perfect Lauren would eat extremely well and would skip Starbucks, no matter how much she loved Salted Carmel Mochas. Perfect Lauren would have a perfect meditation practice every day.
I saw my entire life flash before my eyes, one long comparison to Perfect Lauren and one long failure to measure up. Did I assume that with enough self-abuse, one day I would become Perfect Lauren? One day I would finally be this fantasy super mom who would always “have it together”?
Suddenly I realized that my immense drive, the one that had allowed me to be so successful, was not a drive toward the happiness I wanted. I was not driving toward anything at all. I was driving away from something.
I drove myself to avoid feeling shame, self-criticism, and self-hate. I drove myself to please the Mean Marshmallow Man Voice. I drove myself to avoid hating myself.
Why do you do things? Do you exercise, eat right, study, or work hard because you love yourself and want good for yourself? Or do you do these things to avoid shame and self-criticism?
I had spent my entire life motivating myself with negativity. And I was now paying the price.
Why It’s Hard to Change
Once I realized how much I compared myself to Perfect Lauren, I tried to stop. It seems simple. Just stop doing it.
But when I tried too hard, I kept getting stuck in this Dr. Seuss-like spiral of hating myself for trying to not hate myself. My former coach used to call that a “double bind,” because you’re screwed either way.
For me to finally learn how to change this, I first had to ask myself…why? And yes, I know that I’m starting to sound like Yoda, but follow me here.
Why did I need to compare myself to Perfect Lauren? Why did it matter? When I pulled at the thread, I found the sad truth.
I compare myself to Perfect Lauren because somewhere deep in my mind I believe that Perfect Lauren gets the love. Real Lauren doesn’t. So I must constantly push myself to be Perfect Lauren, never accepting Real Lauren.
Okay, that sounds ridiculous. When you highlight a belief, sometimes it can look like a big dog with shaved fur, all shriveled and silly. I don’t believe that at all.
I believe the Lauren that leaves clothes on the floor and loses the toothpaste cap deserves love! The Lauren who hates to unload the dishwasher and loses bills in a pile of mail, she deserves love too!
How to Transform Self-Criticism
Have you ever looked endlessly for something and then realized it was sitting right in front of your face? It turns out that the solution to my self-criticism and comparison was actually pretty simple—start loving myself more.
Now loving Real Lauren, with all faults, is not easy. But I’m trying.
Instead of pushing myself with shame, hatred, and self-criticism, I am learning to motivate myself with praise. Instead of threatening myself, I am pumping myself up.
And this has changed everything. I actually get more done using positive motivation. And more importantly, I feel better about what I get done. I’m happier, calmer, and feel more at peace with my life.
If you want to shift your own self-criticism and free yourself from the tyranny of your Mean Marshmallow Man, stop trying to fix yourself and start trying to love yourself.
Here is a practical way to implement this into your life:
The next time you notice that you are criticizing yourself or comparing yourself to Perfect You, stop. Hit the pause button in your head.
Next, say, “Even though I… I love and accept all of myself.” So, for me today, “Even though I shopped on Zulily instead of writing this blog post, I love and accept all of myself.”
Now imagine that you’re giving yourself a hug, internally. Try to generate a feeling of self-compassion.
When you do this regularly, you will start to notice what I noticed. Love and self-compassion can shift even the strongest negative thoughts and emotions and allow you to enjoy more of your life.
And that’s the real goal here, isn’t it? If we keep driving ourselves using self-criticism, we will never be happy, no matter how perfect we are, because we won’t enjoy the process. We won’t enjoy the journey.
I believe that the happiest people in life aren’t the ones with the least baggage. They are just the ones who learned to carry it better so that they can enjoy the ride.
The more we generate self-compassion and love, the easier perfectionism and self-criticism will be to carry. And the easier it will be for us to love and enjoy this beautiful and amazing journey called life.
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Why People Who Embrace Their Imperfections Go Far
“A beautiful thing is never perfect.” ~Proverb
I was having a conversation with a group of friends that I meet up with occasionally, and my friend—let’s call her Sarah—started talking about perfectionism.
She said that people used to describe her as a perfectionist and she’d wonder what they were talking about because, according to Sarah, she couldn’t do anything right.
And then one day it dawned on her that her perfectionism was rooted within the idea that if she couldn’t do something perfectly, she wasn’t doing it right. So she had best not do it at all.
I can relate to Sarah. I spent the majority of my childhood and many of my adult years running away from my gifts for complete and utter fear of failure.
And the fear of failure seemed so physically debilitating that I would just quit doing stuff before even giving myself a chance to get really good at it.
Generally, it was the stuff I loved that I would quit doing, too. Because I equated loving doing something with huge risk of failure, leading to me not being able to do that thing—that thing, so to speak, that I loved.
And ultimately this would lead to self-doubt, embarrassment, and low self-esteem. The horror, right? I genuinely thought that the insecurity came from not being able to do things well.
I never considered the possibility that insecurity was the culprit, leading me to make decisions not to do things that I couldn’t do perfectly. Which meant that at the end of it all, I didn’t really do anything of interest for many years.
I started playing the piano when I was three years old. I’m classically trained and I wanted to be a concert pianist. My parents gave me lessons, bought me a beautiful baby grand piano, and encouraged me to keep playing.
I played, and I played well for years. But then eventually when I was a teenager, I gave it up because I felt like there were so many other pianists my age who were so much better than I was.
Of course this was all in my head—musical ability is entirely subjective, but it didn’t matter. It was enough to make me stop playing.
I did the same with drawing, painting, writing, sewing, etc. I even started my own jewelry line in elementary school using macramé, beads, and inexpensive knick-knacks from the hardware store.
My peers loved my jewelry and I actually sold my stuff at school. You know, for candy money and Choose Your Own Adventure books. I gave that up, too.
I wasn’t good enough. An aspiring jewelry designer who, at eight years old, just was never going to make it in the fashion world. Oh, what a dark and dreary future. Sigh.
And when I was done surrendering all of my talents in an effort to be, I don’t know, perfect, I found myself completely aimless and miserable. But I ran with it. After all, now that I had nothing that I needed to be perfect at, I couldn’t disappoint anyone, right?
Such freedom in that! Except what I failed to recognize at the time was that I was disappointing the only person that mattered, and that was myself.
About four years ago and some change, I decided to give up some bad habits. Some of these included drinking and partying. But most of what I was determined to give up was the “perfectionism.”
And it’s funny because that’s not what I would have called it prior to that conversation with Sarah, but that’s precisely what I was giving up. So that I could go on with my bad, imperfect self.
The moment I made the decision to give up the perfectionist mindset is the moment that I started to follow my dreams. I traveled to Bali, Indonesia, and started my own jewelry line—an island-inspired line that’s overflowing with meaning. It’s beautiful, and it’s me.
I began writing about things that I feel passionately about, I picked drawing and sewing back up and I started playing the piano again. This time I’m learning how to play jazz and it’s so much fun.
These are all things that nourish my soul. How absurd that I would deny myself these pleasures—these gifts of mine.
I spent obscene amounts of time partying, took a very slapdash approach to college, worked dead end jobs that I had no genuine interest in, remained in bad relationships for way too long, and the list goes on and on.
The idea that life could actually be fun while doing the things that I love, and not doing them perfectly, was just unfathomable. And yet here I am on this brand new pursuit of anti-perfectionism, thoroughly enjoying it.
And on this journey, I’ve learned a few very critical things that have profoundly altered the way I approach my life.
Try not to compare yourself to others. I wish someone had drilled this into my head when I was younger. Or maybe they did and I just wasn’t paying attention. Drilling averted.
Still, it’s suicide for your dreams. Keep in mind that no two painters will ever paint the same, no two pianists will play Mendelssohn’s Songs without Words the same, and no two entrepreneurs will build the same business, no matter how similar.
The finished product is always going to be perfectly imperfect and entirely unique. And beautiful.
Even if you think you’ve failed at the things you’ve set out to accomplish, I challenge you to look at those “failures” from a different perspective. You’ve created something—something where there was nothing. Maybe that supposed “failed” something taught you how to do that thing a little differently the next time.
Or maybe you just had to try that thing one time to know whether or not it was the thing for you. And maybe, just maybe, that thing that you think you failed at was a source of inspiration for somebody else.
So, you see, there’s really no such thing as perfection, as it were. It’s simply about having new experiences that enhance our lives and make us feel good.
Embrace your imperfections and you will go far. You’ll probably enjoy yourself a whole lot more in the process, too.
Man with raised arms image via Shutterstock
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Every Imperfect Person Has Something to Teach Us
“My experience is that the teachers we need most are the people we’re living with right now.” ~Byron Katie
I have always been of the opinion that the people around us are our teachers.
Specifically, I have always seen what I perceive to be negative traits in others as opportunities to develop patience or kindness toward them. I see it as a struggle they are going through, and if I can be patient or kind, then that helps them. It also teaches me how to embody those qualities even when I don’t feel like it.
If a colleague, friend, or acquaintance is abrasive or aggressive, I try to mentally extend loving thoughts to them.
I think about what it’s like to be in their shoes and how I can lead by example by being kind to them. I breathe in their perceived negativity and breathe out positivity. I tell myself, this is your opportunity to practice. So I practice.
And I think without realizing it, sometimes I can be smug about it. Subconsciously, despite all my yogic training, my interest in Buddhism, and my general belief that we are all the same, I inadvertently elevate myself in stature compared to others.
I am mentally giving myself yogic brownie points—which, in the very nature of yoga, do not exist!
When you’re on a spiritual path in particular, it can be easy sometimes to fall into the illusion that you’ve made it. You’ve figured it out. You are enlightened and can now teach everybody else how to be just like you.
One morning recently I had an epiphany about my philosophy that everybody is my teacher. I still believe it to be the case, but I realized that by thinking from my ego, I was always seeing other people as teaching me qualities to help deal with them better. I wasn’t really thinking about how I could be better.
It was always about being more patient with grumpiness, being more loving toward animosity, opening my heart to a closed one.
There goes the illusion again, that I have made it—I have learned all I need to learn about my less than desirable qualities, and just need to learn about how to handle other imperfect people. It makes me laugh now as I’m typing it.
In simple terms, I had basically forgotten that I also had the potential to be quite annoying or difficult too. Just like every other human on the planet. I’m not perfect. And it’s something I have to keep remembering.
Then I realized in a moment of genuine clarity that one of my greatest teachers is my partner. He will probably scoff when he reads this, as he won’t see himself in this light, but it’s true.
He loves me for who I am, whether that’s a yogi getting up at 5AM to practice and unwittingly waking him up by chanting quietly in the next room, or someone who proclaims she’s on a vegan diet this week and then sneaks in a bit of cheese in a moment of weakness.
He patiently (most of the time!) catches spiders for me despite it clearly being an irrational fear that I should probably deal with. He laughs at my jokes even when they aren’t funny, which I shamefully never do for him.
He forgives and loves people, again and again, in a much more graceful way than I ever have. He knows he is not perfect and that nobody else is. He doesn’t try to attain perfection. He just lives as well as he can in that moment.
In seeing how he embraces all of me, I realize the goal isn’t merely to learn from other people’s imperfections, but also to accept them—and to accept that I too have room for growth, and that’s perfectly okay. None us will ever have it all figured out, and none of us needs to be perfect.
Instead of looking at how to deal with qualities in others that I perceive negatively, I now look at how to embrace their positive qualities so I can gradually start to embody them more myself. I still aim to lead by example, but I also strive to follow the many positive examples others set.
And this is how we can all teach other—by seeing the best in each other and bringing out the best in each other. We are all on equal footing, human and imperfect. Let’s learn and love together.
Group of meditators image via Shutterstock
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Why Life Is A Lot More Fun When We Stop Trying to Be Perfect
“The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself.” ~Anna Quindlen
“Oh, my god,” she said, “I forgot to shave my left leg!”
That may not sound like a particularly dramatic announcement, but Jenny and I were sharing a seat on the chartered bus taking our senior class to the beach for “Senior Cut Day” a few weeks before graduation, and her discovery horrified me.
An unshaved leg, it seemed to me at the time, was scandalous in the extreme.
Had it been me who forgot to shave, I would have kept my sweats on all day rather than display my embarrassing imperfection.
Jenny, on the other hand, not only shared her faux pas with me, she then announced it loudly to the entire bus. She laughed about it, and invited everyone else to laugh, too!
I was appalled.
I was also fascinated. That someone could intentionally draw attention to her imperfection, and laugh about it, was mortifying, yes, but also intriguing…
It was hot at the beach that day. My well-shaved legs were bare, but I had forgotten to pack a T-shirt, and because I was self-conscious that my belly wasn’t perfectly flat as a pancake, I kept my sweatshirt on over my bikini.
Rivulets of sweat rolled down my torso, but heaven forbid I put my imperfection on display!
Jenny, meanwhile, spent the day laughing, playing volleyball, splashing in the waves, quite unconcerned about her hairy left leg.
Can you guess who had the better time?
You might think that this experience would have taught me something, but in fact, before I finally began to let go of perfectionism and ease into becoming myself in all my flawed, imperfect glory, I spent decades flagellating myself for not being perfect.
Somehow I believed that I couldn’t be lovable if I weren’t perfect, so I was caught in a vicious cycle: aiming for perfection, failing, then beating myself up for the failure and goading myself on toward perfection again. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Throughout my teens and twenties, in pursuit of the perfect body, I was plagued with eating disorders, kept carefully secret so as not to reveal my flaws to the world.
In college, nothing less than an A was acceptable. The pure joy of learning took a back seat to striving for the perfect grade point average.
Meanwhile, in relationships I hid my true self behind a mask, fearing that nobody would love me if they saw the real, flawed me.
Amazingly, I did find a man I could be myself with, but when we decided to get married, I was the quintessential “Bridezilla,” completely focused on planning the perfect wedding.
My obsessive pursuit of perfection helped me stay in denial about the fact that, although we loved each other, the relationship was built on a shaky foundation.
During my marriage I discovered a love for making art, but the joy I experienced when creating was soon overtaken by misery, because nothing I made ever felt good enough. Eventually it seemed easier not to create at all. I became paralyzed by perfectionism.
I could say that it was the very public “failure” of my divorce that started me on the road to accepting myself. Or that it was the college classes in Feminist theory, which helped me overcome my eating disorder and start to accept my body the way it was.
In fact, I see self-acceptance as a long and winding journey, composed of thousands upon thousands of teeny, tiny baby steps, over the course of an entire lifetime.
Baby steps like the revelation—thanks to Jenny on that high school bus ride—that it’s possible to laugh at yourself, and even draw attention to your flaws, and that this may be a more comfortable way to deal with them than trying to hide them all the time.
Baby steps like the gradual dawning that instead of beating myself up, I could forgive myself for my mistakes and missteps, and that responding with self-compassion was a much more pleasant way to live.
Baby steps like the epiphany that making ugly messes at my art table is infinitely more fun and satisfying than making nothing at all (and that often what I deem “ugly” at first, appears less so after some time has passed!)
Gradually I untangled the false belief that only if I were perfect would I be worthy of love and happy.
Letting go of the attempt to be perfect took a long time. At first it felt like a dishonorable surrender, like giving up and “letting myself go.” But when I thought about the people I loved most in my life, I realized that of course not one of them was perfect.
I realized that the people I love being around the most are those who accept themselves as they are, who are comfortable in their own skin. Why should I expect anything different from myself?
Little by little I began to deprogram myself. In fact, I intentionally embraced imperfectionism, and discovered, much to my surprise, that the more I allowed myself to just be me, the happier, more serene, and more content I became. And the more attracted other people were to me, too!
There’s nothing wrong with self-improvement, but the truth is, none of us is—or can even hope to be—perfect. We may pursue mastery, excellence, improvement, and be challenged by the pursuit, but insisting on perfection can only lead to self-disgust and unhappiness.
The only thing we can ever really hope to be perfect at is being our flawed and wonderful selves.
If you’ve been stuck in a perfectionist spin cycle, what’s one thing you might do to press the pause button?
Giving up on being perfect is hard. The work of becoming yourself is hard. The payoff, though, is truly amazing, and you’ll continue to reap the benefits for the rest of your life.
Friends having fun image via Shutterstock
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The Path to Freedom: Stop Controlling and Defining Yourself
“The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift.” ~Albert Einstein
I had drawn a line so deep in the sand about who I was.
I was certain I was on my way to becoming a better version of me.
And then.
Water rushed in, softening that line, revealing that I was part of something much bigger than I saw myself to be.
Something much bigger than I could control myself into.
So many children grow up with circumstances far out of their control. Awful circumstances, such as divorce, alcoholism, drugs, and abuse. My home was full of tremendous amounts of love, laughter, and care; yet, I too had my own share of less than ideal circumstances that I longed to make better.
I never could.
By the time I was a teenager, I had a fair share of obsessive tendencies, mostly revolving around keeping things perfectly neat and organized.
Things got profoundly worse when a high school friend began to love me in a way I couldn’t return.
This situation amped up my need to control greatly.
I took the organizing, cleaning madness to a neurotic level. This, of no surprise, was also one of the ways how women in my family before me demonstrated how to gain control where we had none.
Fast forwarding just a short bit, I was in love, married, and making the decision to have our first child.
Love, adulthood, and motherhood gave me the ability and strength to began to dissolve some of these lingering controls.
Nonetheless, motherhood also gave me new reasons to gain control.
I now had a little being to care for, and my lioness self was driven to do it beautifully; perfectly.
New control took hold.
I started eating all the right foods, simplifying our life to the basics, and bubble wrapping ourselves in a safety net of health.
I began doing all the “right” things and looking down on anything not all natural.
Fast forward again.
I miscarried with my third pregnancy.
This came as a ridiculous surprise, as I believed I was doing it all “right,” and took much pride in my first two conceptions, pregnancies, and births.
After I went on to have a third child, I began to look around and realize how many labels I had given myself: stay-at-home attachment mother, homebirthing, homeschooling, breastfeeding, vegetarian, yogi, all natural, simple living.
I began to look around my beautiful, crunchy, progressive town we were now calling home and taking a look at how many labels others had given themselves.
How we were defining ourselves by what we did, not who we really were.
These labels help(ed) to the extent that they give us an identity that informs our choices and invites our surroundings.
Yet, I couldn’t help but notice that they also gave us limits and set us firmly in the center of a vortex, where we were in and others were out.
With these realizations, I began to unravel and dissolve this need to control myself to perfection. I began to realize that I was being held hostage. By myself.
I began to peel away the hardened layers that I had built and began to allow the light that lived beneath to come out, intuiting my way back to the sacredness and simpleness of who I am.
I traded eating perfectly for eating good enough. I traded practicing yoga for enlightenment for practicing yoga for movement and connection with my body. (Lately I don’t practice yoga at all.)
I quit the relentless worry that nearly everything had a horrible consequence, including chlorinated pools, birthday parties without organic homemade cakes, sugar, reusable diapers, and cell phones.
I quit judging myself for falling short, and started understanding that joy, memories, and a damn good time fills you with something that the “right/healthy” choice can kill in you.
Because, you see, when you decide to no longer be a person defined by all the conscious and mindful choices you make, you gain something remarkable.
You gain access back to your intuition that can only get lost when you are always trying to lead the way.
You gain access to the ability to stand with the shadow parts of yourself instead of running away from them.
You gain access back to presence and the ability to be in the moment, in the joy of experiencing the moments in front of you, without worrying if you are somehow failing yourself.
You gain an understanding that these things that you are labeled by are choices, not definitions.
And you gain access to the freedom to live this life fully, undefined.
Traveler walking image via Shutterstock
