Tiny Buddha

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  • Rethinking Mistakes and Recognizing the Good in “Bad” Choices

    Rethinking Mistakes and Recognizing the Good in “Bad” Choices

    Thinking Woman

    “Sometimes the wrong choices bring us to the right places.” ~Unknown

    For most of my life, I’ve seen the world in black and white, and I’ve felt constricted and pained as a result.

    When I was a young girl, I believed there were good people and bad people, and I believed I was bad.

    When I was an adolescent, I believed there was good food and bad food, and because everything tasty fell into the latter category, I channeled the shame from feeling bad into bulimia.

    And when I grew into adulthood, I believed there were good decisions and bad decisions, which may sound like a healthy belief system, but this created extreme anxiety about the potential to make the “wrong” choice.

    When you see life as a giant chess game, with the possibility of winning or losing, it’s easy to get caught up in your head, analyzing, strategizing, and putting all your energy into coming out victorious.

    Back then, I thought for sure that if I made a misstep, I’d end up unhappy and unfulfilled, not to mention unworthy and unlovable—because there was a right path and a wrong path, and it was disgraceful to not know the difference.

    One pointed toward success and bliss (which I desperately wanted to follow), and one led to certain doom.

    With this in mind, I thought long and hard before moving to Spokane, Washington, at twenty-two. To live with a stranger I’d met on the Internet. And had only known for two months and met in person once.

    Okay, so I didn’t really think long and hard. But I felt in my gut, when we first connected, that this was the right choice for me.

    In fact, I felt certain, something I rarely felt about anything (except my innate bad-ness).

    He told me we were soul mates, which was exactly what I wanted to hear, especially after spending six months bouncing from hospital to hospital, trying find the worth and substance locked somewhere within my cage of bones.

    It made sense to me that, if I had a soul mate, he wouldn’t live right next door.

    Disney may tell us it’s a small world, but it’s not; and I thought for sure there was something big awaiting me 3,000 miles from my hometown near Boston.

    People told me I was making a mistake when I shared the details of my plan.

    Some said I was too fragile to move out of my parents’ house, even if I’d planned to move close to home.

    Some said I was a fool to think this man was my soul mate, or that I had one at all.

    Some said I’d one day regret this choice and that they’d have to say “I told you so.”

    But I felt absolutely confident in my decision—until he came to Massachusetts, two weeks before I was scheduled to move, to meet me for the first time.

    I knew right then it was wrong, somewhere in my gut. I didn’t feel even the slightest spark, but my “soul mate” and I had already planned a new life together. Before we’d even met.

    And I didn’t want to admit I’d made the wrong choice—not to him, who I was sure would be devastated, and not to the others, who I feared would be smug and self-righteous.

    So I moved across the country anyway, thinking that maybe I’d feel differently after getting to know him better.

    If you’ve ever seen a movie, you know exactly how things didn’t pan out. Since life isn’t a romantic comedy, I didn’t eventually realize he was my soul mate and fall madly in love.

    Instead, our individual demons battled with each other, we fought for the better part of six months, and we eventually broke each other’s spirits, broke down, and then broke up.

    You could say, after reading this, that I had made the wrong choice—especially knowing that I knew, the day I met him, that he wasn’t the man for me.

    You could say I’d chosen a bad path, running away from home in a misguided attempt to outrun who I had been.

    These are things I assumed I’d think if I ever decided it was time to leave.

    And yet I didn’t think these things at all. In fact, this was the very first time I broadened my vision to see not just shades of grey, but a whole rainbow of vibrant colors.

    Yes, I’d made an impulsive choice, largely driven by fear and fantasy. Yes, I’d acted against my instincts. And yet I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it had not been the “wrong” choice.

    Because right then, I realized that, despite things not working out as I planned, I’d learned and grown through the experience, and it had served a purpose, even if not the one I originally envisioned.

    Our demons colliding was a blessing, not a curse, because it forced us both to more closely examine how our issues affected our relationships—mine being toxic shame and destructive tendencies, and his being his business, and not for public consumption.

    Moving so far away was valuable, not shameful, because it taught me the difference between running away from what I didn’t want and running toward what I did—a lesson I struggled to apply for many more years, but, nonetheless, now understood.

    And acting against my instinct was a good thing, not a bad thing, because it taught me to listen to my intuition in the future, even if I might disappoint someone else—a lesson I may never have fully embraced without having had this experience.

    That’s the thing about “wrong” choices; they usually teach us things we need to know to make the right choices for ourselves going forward, things we can only learn in this way.

    Notice that I wrote “the right choices for ourselves”—not the “right choices.” Because the thing is, there are no right choices.

    There isn’t one single way that we should live our lives, or else we’ll be unhappy. There isn’t one path that will lead us to success, bliss, and fulfillment.

    There isn’t a straight ladder we’re meant to climb, hitting milestone after milestone until we emerge at the top, victorious, with the view to show for it.

    There’s just a long, winding road of possibilities, each with lessons contained within it—lessons that can help us heal the broken parts of ourselves and find beautiful pieces we never knew existed. Pieces we couldn’t know existed until we made choices and saw how we felt.

    If there’s one thing I’ve learned since that very first move, over a decade ago, it’s that life never offers any guarantees. And it can also be incredibly ironic.

    Sometimes the people who seem to make all the right choices are the least happy with the people they’re being and the lives they’re leading.

    We could spend our whole lives looking for external validation that we’re following a path that’s “good”—living in a narrow, black-and-white world, feeling terrified of making mistakes.

    Or, we could commit to finding something good in every step along the way, knowing that the only real mistake is the choice not to grow.

    I don’t know if this is right for everyone. But I know this is right for me.

    On this Technicolor journey of unknown destination, I am not good nor bad, not right nor wrong, but most importantly, not restricted. In this world of infinite possibility, at all turns, I am free.

    Thinking woman image via Shutterstock

  • 5 Helpful Things to Do When You Think Life Sucks

    5 Helpful Things to Do When You Think Life Sucks

    “It isn’t what happens to us that causes us to suffer; it’s what we say to ourselves about what happens.” ~Pema Chodron

    You know that foreboding fear we all have—that something will go terribly wrong and life will never be the same again?

    Mine is that something will happen to our daughter. She is our only child. We battled infertility for years before conceiving her. I keep telling myself that it’s just an irrational fear and that every parent probably has it to some extent, but it’s a constant companion that stealthily follows me around everywhere I go.

    So, on a Saturday evening, when we returned from an evening out to pick her up from the playcare and were greeted by the sight of blood on her face and the sound of inconsolable weeping, my heart just stopped.

    She had fallen off a playscape headfirst. It had happened minutes before we arrived. All the caretakers could tell us was that a tooth was knocked off. We rushed her to the emergency room.

    After what seemed like hours, they gave the all-clear—no head trauma or fractures—and sent us home with a prescription of painkillers and instructions to rest.

    She spent the next twenty-four hours in pain and throwing up. She couldn’t even hold water down.

    I tortured myself with fears that it must be a devastating head injury that the emergency room staff had failed to catch. She felt better the next day, so I brushed my fears away.

    The next week was a whirlwind of visits to the dentist to extract fragmented and loose teeth. During one of the visits, the dentist noticed that her jaw was misaligned. We rushed to an oral surgeon.

    The emergency room staff had failed to catch it—her jaw had broken. And now it was too late. The bone had already started to set in a crooked manner.

    She’d need major surgery to reverse it. She was too young to do the surgery yet, but by the time she turns eighteen the misaligned jaw will likely bother her so much that surgery will be unavoidable.

    A couple of weeks later, as the dust started to settle, I took her to the park to let some steam off. As luck would have it, she had another fall, and this time she broke her arm.

    We hadn’t had any major trauma in her entire life. And now we had two sets of broken bones in as many weeks.

    Waiting for the orthopedic to put the cast on, I couldn’t help but think, “Right now, our life sucks.”

    And this wasn’t the first time I’d thought that.

    A few years back, I’d felt much worse when my husband was in the emergency room, I waited outside with her, and the doctors had no answers for us.

    And before that at work when a colleague was bent on making my life a living hell.

    And when my best friend was lost to depression and wouldn’t take my calls.

    And when I broke up with my first boyfriend.

    And a million other times.

    Every single one of us has these moments. It’s just the way life is. It’s what we do in those moments that matters.

    For the better part of my life, I’ve felt flustered and incapable of handling these moments. Over time, I feel like I’ve figured out a few things that I can start doing to bounce back.

    I’m sharing these with the hopes that some of you will find them as useful as I do.

    1. Replace “Why me?” with “What next?”

    It’s natural; when things go wrong, one of our first thoughts is likely to be “Why me?”

    Here’s the thing though: “Why me?” is a weakening phrase. It only serves to increase our feeling of victimhood and makes us feel incapable of dealing with the situation.

    By intentionally catching ourselves thinking “Why me?” and replacing it with “What next?” we not only gain back a feeling of control, but also figure out what we can actually do.

    Anytime my daughter had a mini accident after that, she would panic. I’d put on my calmest voice, even when I felt like screaming “Why us? Can we please catch a break?” and say, “Aww, poor baby. Are you hurt? Accidents happen. Do you think a boo-boo pad might help?” And yes, a boo-boo pad always helped.

    Ever so slowly, we were back to being resilient in the face of mini accidents again.

    2. Force yourself to practice gratitude.

    It is hard to feel grateful when you are dealt a blow, no matter how big or small it is.

    I was devastated by my daughter’s jaw fracture verdict. I had to practically force myself to practice gratitude.

    Every time I talked to someone, I’d say, “Well, we’re lucky it wasn’t a head injury.” After repeating it a few times, I actually started to believe it and started to feel the gratitude. And that eventually helped deal with the news of the misaligned jaw.

    No matter what you are dealing with, there is always, always something to be grateful for. Force yourself to say it out loud a few times. Your heart and your mind will soon catch up.

    3. Quit blaming.

    When you’re hurt, it is equally natural to look for someone to blame.

    In my case, I was tempted to blame myself, the caregivers at the playcare, the doctors at the emergency room, and so on.

    But blame only serves to prolong the hurt. It makes it harder to let things go. It makes us angry and corrodes us from the inside. It brings negativity into our life.

    So just stop.

    If something is meant to be, it will happen. That’s it. Deal with it and move on.

    4. Don’t give in to fear and despair.

    This is a tough one. It’s so much easier to just give in and surrender to the fear and grief. But we need to stand tall, even when we feel two feet too short.

    It was very hard for me to mask my worries from my daughter and project confidence. But I’m so glad I did.

    Back then, for a while, I’d actually started to wonder if something was wrong. The foreboding fear that was my constant companion kept telling me that something bad was going on.

    But slowly, she gained from my projected confidence and grew more confident herself. And got back to her monkey business. And didn’t having any more accidents.

    And my worries started to fizzle.

    When it comes to fear and despair, you have to fake it till you make it. And, sooner or later, you will make it.

    5. Never give up.

    We didn’t like the jaw surgery verdict. We sought out another opinion even though it seemed pointless.

    The new oral surgeon was old school. She suggested physical therapy. We set alarms on the phone, and my daughter diligently did her exercises (bless her soul, she’s just a wee little kid, but such a sport).

    After a month, the jaw was starting to get aligned again. Things are beginning to look good. Maybe we won’t need that surgery after all. We can only hope for the best.

    No matter where you’re at or what you’re going through, don’t give up. Try just one more thing; maybe it’s just the thing that will resolve it for you.

    It ain’t over, until it’s over.

    —

    As I type this article, I hear my daughter biking around the house.

    And then I hear a loud thud. I catch my breath and wait. And there it comes: “I’m okay,” she calls out.

    Yes. I think we’re indeed okay.

  • Are You Frustrated in Your Search for True, Unconditional Love?

    Are You Frustrated in Your Search for True, Unconditional Love?

    Love

    “Your task is not to seek love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” ~Rumi

    Have you ever wondered if there is such a thing as true love, like in the good old movies of Casablanca or The Notebook? Maybe you’ve found your true love. Or perhaps you’re still searching.

    When I was a teenager, I was mesmerized by this dream that someday there would be someone who would love me so unconditionally that he would literally die for me. After all, you see that all the time in the movies.

    After the tangible basics of food and water, love is our most essential need for surviving and thriving as living beings. We first experience love through our parents when we’re young. This lays the basic foundation for our growth and journey in life.

    Since I was unable to recall being loved or shown any affection as a child, I held onto this dream that someday, somewhere, someone would truly love me. Subconsciously, this underlying desperate craving and desire for love drove all my relationships.

    I expected romantic relationships to fill a spot deep inside me where there was a colossal empty hole. Whenever I fell in love, my heart would open up totally and engulf the other with an ocean of love. But my love came with a condition, that they should and would love me back unconditionally.

    I’d asked my first true love once, “Why do you love me?”

    He replied,“Because you love me so unbelievably much, I can’t not love you.”

    That was my dream come true, or so I thought. I ended up marrying my true love, had three beautiful children, and committed diligently to a roller coaster ride of a nineteen-year marriage.

    My marriage of true love had intense polarities similar to my emotions and mental states. I would swing from divine happiness when he met my expectations to the crushing and wrenching of my heart when my needs remained unfulfilled.

    To avoid painful conflicts, I trended toward being accommodating and then slowly progressed into being passive and abject—just to make sure I would always have his love.

    We shouldn’t let another person or event define our sense of self and worth, for this places us into the role of the lesser or the victim. When we play that role, then obviously we will attract or sustain relationships that will mutually fulfill that role.

    This passive submission became quite natural for me, as my sense of worth was totally defined by my husband. I thought I knew he loved me, so I would do anything to maintain his approval and love.

    The dynamics of our relationship remained such over the course of our marriage until I started to heal from my childhood past and my true self started to emerge.

    Gradually as my true self of worth, esteem, and courage started to take shape, I started to look for respect and mutual understanding. This challenged my husband’s passive controlling role, and  we started to drift apart.

    Divergence toward opposite poles led to differences in values, interests, and wavelengths until our soul connection died a slow death and we eventually parted ways. I used to cry myself to sleep, alone, on most nights. My true love was not as real or lasting as I thought.

    Later, I met a beautiful African drummer who freed my spirit, as his music would touch and fill that colossal hole that was still there. His exotic, handsome looks and charming manners made me feel like I was the most important and beautiful woman in the world. Again, I poured my heart open and gave all my conditional love.

    In the early part of any relationship, we can be blinded to the true nature of the person if our internal lack and need form our filters of perception. We will only see what we seek to find, and the other will consciously or unconsciously reflect what we crave and need.

    As our relationship progressed, I started to see his true colors.

    My African god wanted me to marry him as a free ticket into my country as much as I wanted unconditional love in return. He played on my neediness for love by using demanding and chauvinistic behaviors to control me.

    I ended that relationship promptly and spent weeks nursing the pain and tears of a broken heart. Why was I not able to find someone to love me as much as I loved them? That was all I wanted in life, to be loved unconditionally.

    If we love from the place of lack, no person or event can ever fill that hole. Moving from one person to another might change the scene and scenario, but eventually the same conflict, issues, and imperfections will surface again.

    A few years later I went on a trekking trip to the Nepal Himalayas and fell in love with a mountaineer and his quiet strength.

    In him, I sensed the spirit of the mountains and the freedom of his soul. He carried within him the peace and calm that filled my colossal hole again. In him, I experienced tenderness and wholeness.

    He carried my photo with him to the summit of highest mountain in the world. No man had ever declared such extent of love for me. I was certain this was true love. But alas, he was a married man. So the only love that I thought was true love was not to be had.

    This was the most devastating pain since my marriage ended. I knew that true love simply did not exist, or if it did, I didn’t deserve it.

    In deep grieving I wept, curled up for days in bed, and slinked back into the hole of despair. Without love, this life was void. It was like breathing without air and living without a heartbeat.

    In the depth of that suffocating pain, my soul was stripped bare, and in that totally exposed and vulnerable state, I surrendered to life. In the total surrender, acceptance held me within the pain and hopelessness. And I slept.

    Over the days that followed, a peace emerged, and then as spontaneous as the sun can shine again after the clouds have moved, something shifted within me.

    I was already present there as unconditional love itself. Unconditional love for the imperfect me, the hurting, lost, unloved child; the desperate woman I had grown to be, who sought for the definition of my worth through everyone else but myself.

    I thought I would find it in another human being who would be the love of my life because I never had it from my parents. I craved unconditional love but I never loved unconditionally because I never knew it in myself.

    When I dropped the search and surrendered, it simply unfolded. I realized my true love had been right here all along, within me. It was me, in my purest form, when all my layers of pain and perceptions had dropped. There was no more hole, for I had found my true and divine love, and this love now overflows not from lack but from abundance.

    So if you’re still searching or wondering what true love is, know that it’s right here within you. It’s your purest essence—unconditional love for yourself and for others.

    Heart in clouds image via Shutterstock

  • The Most Important Thing to Ask Yourself After a Breakup

    The Most Important Thing to Ask Yourself After a Breakup

    “The obstacles of your past can become the gateways that lead to new beginnings.” ~Ralph Blum

    Divorce. Not an activity that I ever had on my to-do list and not something I contemplated when I got engaged in Paris. Who does?

    We’ve all heard the statistics that one in three marriages ends in divorce. Yet this is something that happens to someone else and certainly not a possibility to focus on while skipping down the aisle.

    People change or they don’t, as the case may be. Unless both parties are exceptional communicators, it can be challenging to stay on the same page as time passes. The meltdown of my relationship was such a surreal experience and not something that I could have prepared for.

    The vision of the future, with my husband playing a starring role, was completely shattered. All those plans, expectations, and assumptions were no longer relevant. That delightful man, once my best friend and lover rolled into one, was suddenly behaving like an unpleasant stranger.

    It was the shock of this new situation each morning that brought me back to the reality that the present moment is the only guarantee. That concept was no longer a platitude but something that was agonizing and raw. The feelings of failure and betrayal were overwhelming.

    Months of an avalanche of painful emotions brought me back in touch with deep self-inquiry. Yet another life experience to show me that the relationship with myself was the only guaranteed long-term relationship. Cliché as it sounds, the breakdown of my marriage was a breakthrough I’d been seeking.

    I was forced to examine where we had been applying a Band-Aid solution to cover some deeper problems. This grieving processing of letting go of this man cracked me open and forced me into deep vulnerability. It was time for me to bring the focus back to me and ask myself some big questions.

    Who am I outside of this relationship?

    What’s important to me?

    How do I suddenly stop loving him? (Is that even possible or necessary?)

    When did I become so out of touch with how I feel?

    How can I fulfill my own desires and potential?

    Is there anything in my life I have been putting on hold?

    What is best for me now?

    Some of the answers to these questions were extremely painful to acknowledge. In the eleven years we were together I had been so focused on whether or not he was happy that I had forgotten to focus on making myself happy, to a degree.

    A wise lady said to me, “Don’t worry about whether or not he’s fulfilling his potential. The question you need to ask yourself is, are you? That’s the only potential you can do anything about.”

    However, I will always be grateful to my ex-husband for this soul contract. Divorce was my doorway to enter into a sacred partnership with myself.

    It forced me into the unpleasant realization that I was very out of touch with my own needs.

    I felt unsatisfied in my career, unsure as to whether I wanted to have a child, and unclear about my direction. I was regularly frustrated by how indecisive he seemed and yet he was a wonderful reflection. 

    I was far too focused on him and it was a perfect distraction. His actions forced me to examine my own levels of denial about my part in our relationship.

    There I was, judging him for being dishonest, and yet I had not been honest with myself about being unhappy for a long time. How was that fair to him or me? We all know the answer.

    I share these insights in the hope that you do not wait until a health crisis occurs or a relationship ends before you create a more loving relationship with yourself.

    It is impossible to experience true intimacy with another if we are ignoring the needs of our own heart. How can we truly be with someone if we are avoiding ourselves?

    So often in our intimate relationships, we are focused on what the other will provide in terms of emotional support. It is easy to point the finger, blame them for being disappointing and letting us down. Yet, are we willing to commit to ourselves?

    Life is short and fragile, and we never know whether today is our last day. Bringing ourselves deeply back into our hearts allows us to choose our next steps from a place of self-love.

    Close your eyes, breathe deeply, and ask yourself this important question: “What do I most need from me right now?”

    It can take time to recover from the end of a long-term relationship and readjust to these life changes. I spent a long time processing painful emotions that arose and sadness I felt while adjusting.

    There was deep self-reflection, even resulting in spending time at a retreat in Brazil. I stripped my life back to the bare essentials, withdrew from much socializing for a long time, and began to reacquaint myself with myself. I began to reinvest in the relationship with my own heart rather than seeking love from someone else’s.

    The more we nourish ourselves, the more able we are to share this love with others from a place of surplus and not deficit. This brings such freedom and joy, both to ourselves and others. Is it time for you to commit to self-love?

  • How Painful Relationships Can Be The Best Teachers

    How Painful Relationships Can Be The Best Teachers

    “Sometimes the wrong choices bring us to the right places.” ~Unknown

    “This is it,” I thought. I finally found the man I had been waiting for.

    Of course, it had taken me thirty-nine years and a painful divorce from my husband of ten years. But that was all worth it, I told myself, because it had led me to the man who seemed to see, understand, and love me the way I had always hoped someone would.

    Things were blissful in beginning. We made breakfasts together, took romantic vacations to exotic locations, we fantasized about buying vacation houses. Our developing story read like a fairy tale.

    But this fairy tale did not have a happy ending. The once-sweet Prince Charming eventually became cold, distant, and abusive—a man in constant pursuit of new “shiny objects” to distract him from the remnants of his troubled past.

    I was that shiny object…until I wasn’t shiny anymore.

    The clock struck midnight, and I was left with a broken heart.

    There was a firestorm of mixed emotions after the breakup: betrayal, rage, sadness, and disappointment. I wanted someone to wake me up and tell me it was all just a bad dream. I wanted Prince Charming to return so I could feel those loving feelings again!

    I spent countless hours mentally rehashing the details of the story, torturing myself, trying to see precisely why things went wrong.

    This fruitless nonsense only made me angrier and sadder. Then, one day, amidst the noise of the fruitless nonsense, I heard a gentler voice inside me whisper, “Be patient. The most painful relationships can be the best teachers.”

    After I heard that voice, I began to let myself consider that, just maybe, this heinous experience was serving a benevolent purpose I had yet to discover. And that’s when the learning began.

    I recognized that I had been so willing to make someone else the focal point of my life because, deep down, outside of a romantic relationship, I had no idea who I was, let alone how to love myself.

    I had spent so much time after the breakup focusing on my ex-boyfriend’s shortcomings because I was not ready to see that, in some ways, I was just like him.

    I spent the majority of my adult life bouncing from one relationship to another because I told myself that “happiness” was just around the corner; all I needed was the right partner.

    The pursuit of Mr. Right kept me at a safe distance from pain I spent a lifetime avoiding: the acrimonious divorce of my parents at age thirteen and subsequent abandonment by a mother, who left an emotionally unavailable father to raise my sister and me.

    It turns out that betrayal, rage, sadness, and disappointment were actually remnants of my own past; feelings I thought romantic love would magically erase.

    The harder we work to escape unwanted parts of ourselves, the greater the likelihood we will choose relationships that help us find these unwanted parts.

    I thought a relationship with Prince Charming meant I would never have to feel the pain of grief, but what I really needed was to learn how to welcome grief. The feelings associated with grief are our body’s way of inviting us to honor and grow from loss.

    When I decided to stop running away from my feelings, it didn’t take long to discover that avoiding psychic pain is like running in front of an avalanche: When we stop running, all of the once-forbidden feelings cascade over us with such a great force, it can feel as if we will be crushed by their weight.

    At first, it felt like I was dying. I cried with such intensity and regularity that I began to refer to these daily crying spells as “taking out the trash.” The only problem was, there was so much trash that I feared this chore would never be finished.

    I attended weekly therapy sessions, furiously wrote in my journal, and confided in trustworthy friends.

    Through this, I slowly (and I mean slowly) started to see that the life I once thought of as empty was actually quite full. I had my health, two healthy children, a successful therapy practice, the ability to play and sing music, and a village of supportive friends.

    I was so busy searching for happiness outside of myself that I couldn’t see that the makings of happiness were already there, waiting for my own recognition.

    Looking back, what initially felt like a death was actually a rebirth. All of my feelings, even the ones I feared were too destructive, deserve to be acknowledged and felt.

    When we welcome our feelings into awareness, we are taking the first brave step toward accepting all of who we are. This acceptance is the beginning of unconditional self-love.

    Working through grief eventually yielded a life of creativity and abundance that my once fearful heart never knew was possible!

    Bonds with old friends became stronger, I started writing more, and I began to discover activities and interests, both new and old, that brought me joy. Eighteen months after the breakup, I noticed I wasn’t just surviving each day any more; I was actually living a pretty decent life—by myself.

    None of this would have been possible had it not been for the blistering heartache of betrayal and loss.

    So, if you are in the shadowy aftermath of loss and it feels as if you are dying, perhaps you are really in the process of being reborn. It is your own inner wisdom that has led you to where you are, so trust it.

    Though you may feel awful now, remember this is how you feel, it is not who you are. Feelings are temporary energy states that, when given permission to exist, like the weather, move in and out of our conscious field.

    There is no point in fighting your feelings because they will only scream louder until you hear them. Why make them work that hard?

    As you progress through your own journey, gently remind yourself that everything you seek, you already have. You may feel broken right now, and that’s okay. It is important to remember that all of the pieces are there, waiting to be put back together in the form of a stronger, wiser you.

    You might stumble along the path, and that is also okay. Life isn’t like the Olympics—we don’t have to perfect the routine or stick the landing—we just have to keep showing up, trying our best every day to travel our own path at our own pace.

    So, I invite you to ask yourself, “How could this pain be an invitation to grow?” If you are patient and listen closely, the answer will find you. It might be slow and subtle at first, but it will come.

  • 3 Signs It’s Time to Break Up

    3 Signs It’s Time to Break Up

    “Celebrate endings, for they precede new beginnings.” ~Jonathan Lockwood Huie

    There was an incessant doubt deep inside that wouldn’t subside. It followed me everywhere—through the good times and the rough times.

    By “good,” I mean things were okay. They were never great, ecstatic, wildly passionate, and deeply connected.

    I tried to escape it, block it out, ignore it, and pretend this nagging feeling would eventually disappear.

    But my heart wasn’t skipping a beat. The spark had long disappeared. I never had butterflies thinking about him. I felt myself slowly withdrawing.

    And I couldn’t figure out why was this happening.

    He was a wonderful man in so many ways. He treated me well. I knew he loved me. I knew he wanted to be with me. There was nothing drastically wrong with our relationship. Everything was okay with us.

    I didn’t understand. I wanted to feel differently. It would have made my life so much easier.

    So I contemplated. I stayed. I tried to focus on the great things about him, and us, in the hope I’d fall more in love and it’d all work out.

    But it didn’t. Things didn’t change for me. That feeling was there for a reason. We really weren’t right for each other in the long term.

    I agonized over what to do for months and months. Should I stay and ignore my feelings? Should I go and potentially make a massive mistake?

    After much soul searching and going back and forward in my head, I finally found my answer. It broke both of our hearts but I had to trust my intuition and end it.

    This experience taught me so much about myself and what I need and want in love.

    I learned that when it comes to relationships, things don’t always make logical sense, you can’t force chemistry, and sometimes a breakup is the only answer.

    Here are three ways to know when it’s time to break up.

    1. You just know in your heart it’s not right.

    This was me above. I couldn’t explain it in words; I just felt it in my bones.

    I knew I should feel intensely drawn to him. I should want to spend way more time with him. I should want to share all of myself with him. I should want to make future plans with him and look forward to seeing him.

    But I didn’t. And I couldn’t change it no matter how hard I tried.

    I just couldn’t feel the way about him that I wanted to. And nothing I did could force that.

    It was my gut, my instinct, my heart, my intuition trying to tell me that it just wasn’t right. He wasn’t “the one” for me in the same way that I wasn’t his “one,” either.

    There wasn’t anything “wrong,” but the connection I desperately craved was missing. He didn’t light me up and make me want to be a better person. I didn’t feel how I wanted to with him.

    This situation is difficult because you can’t always explain or articulate why you feel the way you feel.

    But it’s so important to trust yourself. Those feelings are your navigation. Your truth. And when you listen, life gets so much easier and you open the channels right on up for greater love and happiness.

    2. You’re miserable more often than you’re happy.

    Do you spend more time fighting, arguing, and feeling annoyed and disappointed than you do enjoying, loving, and growing with one another?

    I’ve been here too. And at the time I thought it was normal. So I put up with it. I kept trying to make it work. I was convinced the fighting would eventually stop if I could be everything he wanted.

    But this isn’t normal, and we were definitely not right for each other. It shouldn’t be this difficult (especially in the beginning).

    Of course, every couple disagrees at times, and that’s normal. But it’s how you communicate and navigate these differences that can make or break your relationship.

    If you constantly push each other’s buttons and find there’s always tension between you, something’s not right.

    If you try to sort out your issues (whether just between the two of you or by seeking help) and you still find yourself miserable more than 50% of the time, it’s a sign this relationship isn’t healthy.

    Really, you should be happy together more like 90% of the time!

    It’s time for bigger, better, happier, more loving times. You know what you need to do.

    3. Your values, morals, and beliefs are misaligned.

    Do you and your partner have different ideas and plans for money, marriage, children, religion, travel, family, work, and life in general?

    Of course, all of our ideas and opinions aren’t always going to be exactly the same. That would just be weird and boring.

    But is there a mountain of differences or even just a few big ones that make you really uncomfortable?

    This is tricky to navigate. You might find that for a while you’re both able to come to a happy compromise or in the beginning of the relationship you can avoid those big contentious issues.

    But I promise you they won’t go away. They’re going to shine bright at some point or another, and if both of you feel strongly about the topic it’s going to make your relationship extremely difficult.

    Years ago my long-term (ex) partner wouldn’t even entertain a conversation about marriage or having children. After a couple of years together this was a huge warning for me that he didn’t see our relationship progressing much further for a long time.

    I wanted something completely different than he did in life, and it was so important to me to be able to at least discuss these things. It made me realize we really weren’t right for one another. It was time to walk.

    To be happy, comfortable, and growing in a relationship, you both need to be on the same page. You need to feel understood, accepted, and heard. When there are differing views on important life topics, this becomes almost impossible and can be difficult to resolve.

    When you want the same things and feel similar ways about important issues couples are faced with, your relationship is so much more harmonious, connected, and easy.

    So you’re going to want to think long and hard about whether the two of you are really compatible and what kind of differences you’re okay with.

    If there are too many to count or you just find yourself butting heads about critical issues that you both refuse to compromise on, it’s time to go your own ways.

    —

    Many say that relationships are hard work. This is true to some degree. There will always be tough times that test you both and ask for compromise, but I truly believe that the majority of the time relationships should bring joy, inspiration, and happiness to both of you.

    This is when you know it’s real. It’s right. It’s love.

    Things aren’t meant to be hard. You’re supposed to support, encourage, and love each other, not constantly struggle with one another or question things.

    I know breakups aren’t easy. They’re just as heart breaking for the person ending it as it is for the partner on the receiving end. And the wounds take time to heal.

    But if you’re continuously unhappy, seriously, what’s the point? You really are better off alone or with someone who brings you true joy.

    So go ahead and trust your heart and your own instinct. You know deep down what the answer is and where your truth lies.

    Be brave. Know that the pain will go and more joy will come. Do what you need to do to find real love. It’s always, always worth it.

  • How I’m Getting Past Internal Resistance So I Can Live a Life I Love

    How I’m Getting Past Internal Resistance So I Can Live a Life I Love

    “Your actions are your only true belongings.” ~Allan Lokos

    This is not a piece about a person who has already finished her journey. I am not here to tell you that I’ve emerged from a dark place into a place of ease, or that I’ve discovered a profound new way of being that shields me from daily stresses.

    I wish I could tell you those things. I love to read about successes like that.

    Instead, I am in a messy stage of my journey, holding on to the glimmers of joy that I feel throughout each day, dreaming and journaling and not getting enough sleep.

    I am transitioning to a different life path as we speak.

    I take each day as its own adventure, knowing that I will feel any combination of boredom, happiness, depression, anxiety, and curiosity. Knowing that it’s okay for change to be complicated, that it’s okay to be confused one minute and excited the next as long as I keep asking questions and keep looking for answers.

    There’s no avoiding this part of the journey, the part where you peel back the layers of who you were and make room for who you will be. Where you shake free from the comforts and limiting beliefs you’ve been living under, where you consider if the life you’ve been living truly reflects who you are.

    This is the scary part. The part where you feel guilty or ashamed or sad that it took you this long to acknowledge your dreams. It’s hard to know when this part will end. All you can do is keep moving and know that those answers will come.

    For the past five years my life has not reflected who I truly am, as I’ve worked a job that bored me so deeply that my soul quietly settled down to sleep.

    On one hand, I am grateful for this job, grateful for the boredom-induced depression that shook me gently but steadily until I finally dusted myself off to search for something more.

    I am grateful for the months of utter paralysis, as I knew I was somehow meant to stretch my creative spirit but did not understand what that looked like or how it sustained me.

    I aim to forgive the part of myself that argued it was “too late,” and that I should just accept the steady job with no questions asked.

    And so I remained as patient as I could. I asked friends to describe my strengths, I vented to my journal. I cried and read inspirational blogs until my eyes reddened. I closed my eyes and meditated, waiting for the light bulb moment to provide me my core beliefs and purpose.

    I’m grateful I did not give up. That I have not given up, still.

    My breakthrough came a year and a half into my journey. One and a half years of reading and thinking and hoping for more. And suddenly, with little warning:

    I think I’m supposed to do visual art, written quickly into my journal.

    Isn’t it funny how life surprises you? I didn’t see this coming; I hadn’t pursued art in my twenties or dreamed of someday being a full-time artist. I let the thought sit for months, afraid of it, thinking I must have misheard my yearnings.

    And so I waited until the thought reemerged four months later. Stronger now, more insistent.

    And I am grateful I listened.

    My journey has changed shape, as journeys often do if you let them, softly tugging me into a makeshift studio after work each evening where I paint and write and remind myself to take big, soothing breaths.

    I’m still not a full-time artist yet, but every day is an adventure still, asking me only that if I haven’t yet found my confidence, to please get up each day and try anyway. And so I get up each day and I try, even when I’m overwhelmed and tired, even when my next steps are unclear.

    One of my favorite mentors, Marie Forleo, has often said clarity comes from engagement, which is a hard concept for those of us who plan endlessly and write everything down multiple times so that we can avoid actually taking that first step.

    That first step, which supports the next and the next, is the most important of all.

    Without action, my journey would be back at square one, huddled under the weight of my doubts and fears.

    Without action, my soul would still be asleep, unable to consider a different future.

    Without action, I would not cherish these moments of actual joy, my paint brush in hand. I would not know they existed.

    And so the question becomes: have you been listening?

    Do you feel the tugs, however quiet, that will lead you in a new direction? I know many of us are so good at ignoring these whispers, resisting the changes that feel so big and scary and new that we can’t imagine where the journey will lead.

    Today, I want you to act, acknowledging your resistance with empathy as you move forward anyway. I want you to get messy and uncomfortable, even if that simply means facing your fears in the pages of your journal.

    If you are just at the beginning, or perhaps even in the middle of your journey as I am, remember: you are capable of joy. Now how will you create it?

  • How I Broke Free from Depression When I Felt Suicidal

    How I Broke Free from Depression When I Felt Suicidal

    “I’m stronger because of the hard times, wiser because of my mistakes, and happier because I have known sadness.” ~Unknown

    I was diagnosed with clinical depression and prescribed anti-depressants when I was twenty-one years old. I refer to this point in my life as the “Dark Ages.”

    Leading up to grad school, I’d suddenly become afflicted with incomprehensible despair.

    At seventeen, for the first time (at least for the first time I could remember), I considered suicide. I felt as if life should’ve been more than what it was. I had a deep sense that I was supposed to be contributing something spectacular to the world, to the tune of curing cancer or working with AIDS patients in Africa.

    As such, I fell short of my ideal self, and this illusion ravaged my soul. So I emptied a parents’ prescription medication into my palm, retreated into my room, and prepared for my tragic exit.

    As I was bringing the pills to my mouth, I heard the ring of an incoming instant message. I’d forgotten to sign offline. This friend of mine spent the next hour or so hearing me out. I was literally saved by the bell.

    But my despair kept visiting me like a persistent acquaintance that wanted to be more than friends. By the time I was in grad school, he’d showed himself in and made himself comfortable, asking me how long he could stay this time.

    I didn’t have an answer for him because I was getting comfortable playing house with the ole chap, until one day I realized I’d locked myself in with him, condemning myself to be a prisoner in what soon evolved into his house. We were cellmates, he and I.

    At times, I felt empty. Only a shell of a person. At other times, I felt overwhelming hopelessness and sobbed without end, uncontrollably and inconsolably.

    Still, other times I felt rage over my past, which was stained with childhood sexual abuse. And then there were the times I simply felt like being silent and alone.

    I was at the bottom of a shadowy well, and the sunlight above seemed impossibly out of reach. Could I ever climb out of this? I wondered. Or was I doomed to forever suffer this terrible fate, plagued with suicidal ideation, loneliness, and raw debilitating emotions for the rest of my life?

    As it were, I found a way out.

    It wasn’t easy. I wouldn’t lie to you.

    And yes, there are still times when I lose my way and unintentionally trip back into that old, dark well.

    But I’m stronger these days, and I’m able to catch a protruding ledge on my way down and hold my weight.

    I’m strong enough to climb back out. In fact, I’ve never fallen all the way to the bottom again, but even if I did, I’ve developed an interminable tenacity that will always see me climbing toward the sunlight one more time.

    So how did I do it?

    First, I freed myself from prison.

    That is to say, I owned my story. As I hailed from an evangelical Christian background at the time, it was a struggle to come out with regards to depression (as it is with any giant we face). The doctrine of many such religious institutions asserts that if you only believe enough, pray enough, fast enough, give enough…then your trial will pass.

    Miracles certainly can and still do occur, but the problem with such doctrines is the failure to realize that some afflictions are meant to remain with us—whether to assist us with our own personal development or to raise the collective consciousness of those around us.

    Further, people often find that they have no reason to own a “sob story.” This is perhaps one of the biggest locks on silence’s prison. We believe only people with certain circumstances deserve to be depressed. If, however, you are successful, loved, and seem to have it all, then what reason have you to feel sad?

    Unfortunately, people don’t realize that this is precisely what some forms of the attack take—feeling despair even when there are no external reasons why you should feel that way.

    Whatever your cause, the first step in taking the reins back where it concerns your life is to simply own your story and admit to yourself what you feel.

    Next, share your story.

    I never really saw myself as a potential poster child for sexual abuse survivorship or for mental health. All I knew was that every time I shared my story with someone, I felt my heart cast off a dead weight and become lighter.

    Know this: Repression only causes further depression. The more you resist your story, the more you push it deeper into the recesses of your soul, the more likely it is that your depression and silence will take physical manifestation (for me: panic attacks, among other things).

    The cure? Share your story. Yes, it will be scary at first, but you’ll soon be amazed by the sense of liberation and freedom that you feel shortly afterward. Share it with a friend. A family member. A support group. Share it on an online forum. Share it below in the comments if you’d like. Just share it!

    When we do away with silence, we not only free ourselves from its prison but we build community with each other and force loneliness to dissolve.

    Lastly, declare war.

    I had to make a decision. Was I going to let depression collar me up and take me out for walks whenever it so chose, or was I going to reverse roles and become the master of my own life?

    Was I going to fight this?

    Was I going to throw ropes down that old familiar well so that on days when I did trip and fall in, I’d have something to hold on to?

    Yes, I decided. I was. I owed it to myself. Because I was worthy. Because I deserved love. Because I deserved peace. And so do you.

    Our wars, like any war out there, are fraught with countless battles. It’s also entirely a trial-and-error type of warfare you’ll be enacting. Sometimes you’ll be on the offense; sometimes on the defense. Sometimes you’ll feel winded with defeat; other times you’ll feel high with triumph.

    What’s important to remember is that everyone is different. What works for one person may not work for you. What works for you for one season may not work in the next.

    You have to commit to continually finding new weapons and keeping the ones that are most effective. My own arsenal has consisted of things like: yoga, meditation, breath work, community, hobbies, exercise, professional help, medication, music, and more.

    And my encouragement to you would be to try all of these things and then some, and constantly evaluate and assess their impact on you.

    But what I most what you to remember, my sweet kindred soul, is that you are so much more than a diagnosis; and more importantly, you are not alone.

    I stand with you—as do millions of others around the world. And I believe hope can be yours. I believe, in fact, that hope already lives inside of you.

    It’s the voice deep in your heart that keeps you going, day after day. It’s what compelled you to even read this post. It’s the stirring up inside of you that wonders at a brighter tomorrow.

    Together, I believe we can combine the energy of our individual hopes until they come an unstoppable cosmic force that not even the most relentless of giants can contend with until we’ve reached every last one of us with the message our souls yearn to hear: you are not alone, you are loved, and we will stand with you through every storm that comes your way.

  • How to Let Go of Guilt and Regret and Forgive Yourself

    How to Let Go of Guilt and Regret and Forgive Yourself

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

    In October of 2010 I was engaged after only three weeks of dating. I was scared to tell my family, but I was terrified to tell my father. My parents divorced when I was five, and I couldn’t spend weekends at Dad’s because he lived thousands of miles away. I saved him for last and decided to take the cowardly way out by emailing him.

    It was not the best decision I’ve ever made. Not only did it infuriate and hurt him, it ended up producing a phone call that would alter my life forever. It was a call filled with horrible words that left me in tears and him hanging up on me. I’ve managed to erase most of the words from my head but not how devastating they felt.

    Six months later we were married in a private ceremony on a beach in Jamaica. After we got back I was still bothered by the fight I had with my father, but I tried to push it to the back of my mind.

    Shortly after, my father began reaching out to me through emails and voicemail. He wanted to meet my new husband and see me. Through email, things became pleasant and we made plans to come visit him in Florida that August.

    My father left another voicemail saying he was still waiting for me to call back and tell him about my trip, yet something was stopping me. Fear, dread, anxiety, and many other emotions made me freeze at the thought of picking up the phone and calling him.

    What if this phone call turns out like the last? Every day I came up with a new excuse and told myself I would call the next day. This was until I ran out of days.

    Two months later my oldest brother called me at work to tell me Dad had passed away that morning. He had been sick for some time, but because of our strained relationship and the strained relationship he had with most of my other siblings, I had no idea how sick. I do remember the first thought that went through my head. I can’t call him back….ever.

    After my father’s death I fell into a foggy depression. For a long time I was unable to focus at work, I isolated myself from all of my friends, and tried to avoid anything that required being social or productive. I was holding myself back from living and slowly dying myself.

    My husband, who was my savior and biggest support system, helped pushed me toward the road to self-forgiveness by asking me this question: “Why can you forgive your father for being absent most of your life, yet you can’t forgive yourself for not calling him back? I don’t get it.” I didn’t either.

    It was time to let go of the guilt, and from then on as I began my days with sadness, I searched for different ways to get rid of it.

    Reach out to others who can help you understand.

    When I was feeling upset, I would ask my mom questions about my dad. I learned more about him in the short time after his death than I knew during his whole life. Her stories helped explain to me why he was the way he was, and in return it helped me realize why I was the way I was. His tendency to avoid confrontation and taking the easy way out made me realize I was my father’s daughter.

    Whether it’s a family member, a friend, or even a therapist, reaching out to someone may lead to answers that help you better understand yourself and your situation.

    Channel your present guilt and regret into something else.

    I didn’t risk calling my father, so I took another risk. For many years it had been my personal and professional dream to write and publish a children’s picture book. I started asking around if anyone knew of someone who could illustrate my story.

    When I asked my mother, she replied, “Your father. He was so good at drawing. He was so good at painting too.” Over time she showed me some of the ceramic pieces he painted years ago.

    Right then I felt even more determined to find an illustrator and self publish my story. Most importantly, it made me feel closer to him. Learning about his hidden talent was like a push from him to go through with my dream.

    What has been your life long dream? There’s no better time than the now to start going after it. The journey you take and the energy you put into it are worth the rewards.

    Change your environment.

    I started to surround myself with those who showed me that life is limitless, children. I took up a nanny job and started to spend more time with my nieces. There’s nothing like the excitement and positive outlook of a child to show you there is more to life than the bad things you experience. You cry over something, you pick yourself up, and start to play again.

    It was hard to let sadness consume me after spending the day with constantly laughing and eager to explore children. They reminded me to enjoy the little things I’d taken for granted. They reminded me the future will be okay.

    Migrate to positive people in your life or new ones you meet. A different perspective on life may help change yours as well.

    Stopped dwelling on the what ifs and focus on the positive results.

    I still hear his last voicemail in my head to this day. “Steph, I’m waiting for you to call me back and tell me about your trip.” No, I never called him back and our last conversation will always be a fight. But that fight sparked a reconciliation. It sparked effort on his part, effort I had been waiting for, for a very long time.

    You can’t go and change the past, so there’s no point in obsessing over it. Even if it takes you months to figure it out, search for the positive that resulted from your negative situation.

    Believe that you deserve to be forgiven.

    I still haven’t 100% forgiven myself, but I’m getting there. I consider myself lucky because on the days that aren’t so good and I can‘t call him back…ever, I get comfort from my biggest support system. It is the support system whom my father wanted to meet and get to know, my husband.

    When I remember the progress my father and I were making, it helps put me at ease and I can breath a little easier. It also helps me to hope and work for great things in the future. I deserve my own forgiveness and I know my father believes I do as well.

    Believe you deserve to be forgiven. We are not perfect but we are still worthy of happiness. Once you can accept that, self-forgiveness will follow and enlarge a future filled with greatness. The world is your canvas, but if you continue to let guilt hold you back, it will forever remain blank. Pick yourself up and start to play again.

  • A Warning and a Gift for Anyone Who Isn’t Pursuing Their Dreams

    A Warning and a Gift for Anyone Who Isn’t Pursuing Their Dreams

    “Letting go of the past means that you can enjoy the dream that is happening right now.” ~Don Miguel Ruiz

    I grew up on a small cattle farm in the very small farming town of Savannah, Missouri with my grandfather and great grandparents.

    My great grandmother used to sit outside on the back porch and string green beans or peel apples when the weather was mild, a worn dish towel over her knee and an ancient paring knife moving with practiced ease. As a very small child I would often sit with her, watching, and sometimes we would talk.

    One evening we shared a conversation that would come to influence me for the rest of my life, though I didn’t realize it at the time.

    I asked if she had ever had something that she always wanted to do, a dream? She smiled, set down her work, leaned back, and looked off across the farm for a moment, lost in thought.

    She said that she had always wanted to see the ocean, visit Hawaii, and see the Eiffel Tower. She had only seen these things in pictures and on TV, and they were beautiful to her. But relatives and friends scolded her for having such ideas and encouraged her to put away these things that would never happen.

    So she did.

    Instead, she got married, raised two children, tended the farm alongside her husband, and prepared every meal without complaint. She packed my lunches, took me to school every single day, sewed my dresses and Halloween costumes from scratch, and made me cinnamon pies.

    She paid all the bills on time, did the grocery shopping, helped her community in any way she could, and was a very good wife, mother, grandmother, and great grandmother.

    At her funeral the church overflowed; every seat was taken by lives she had touched, and more stood in the vestibule and were forced out onto the sidewalk. She gave so much in her life while asking for nothing in return. She was an amazing woman, but I knew she never forgot her dream.  

    That one afternoon spent sitting with my great grandmother, watching her as she spoke with such warmth and sadness, stuck with me.

    As I became older I turned the story over and over in my head like a coin because I instinctively knew its lesson had two sides, but I was only seeing one. After many years of inspection, I found the duality that her story contained: a warning and a gift.

    The Warning: Make the choice to not let others dictate your dreams or goals.

    Your dreams are yours, no matter how simple or small or large or complicated they may be, and you have a right to chase them at any point in your life, for any reason.

    Do not give in to fear or uncertainty, do not doubt yourself, do not ask “Why? Why is this so important to me?” Your dreams are yours and yours alone. No one can take them from you, and you should never give up on them.

    The Gift: Make the choice to find happiness in your current path.

    Sometimes, for some reason, we choose to walk away from what our heart wants. Maybe we make the choice out of necessity, maybe we do not really have a choice in the matter, maybe we did not realize what we wanted till it was too late, maybe we did not want to seem “weird” to our friends.

    But life will always find a way to give you happiness, so be brave and keep yourself open to receive the joy that life is trying to give you.

    My great grandmother never gave herself permission to go do what she had always wanted to do, even when she had the time and money to do so. But she decided to never resent her choices; rather, she chose to find new meaning and fulfillment in her situation. This gave her the ability to grow past her hurt and loss to become a truly fulfilled person.

    Have the strength to attain dreams you think are out of your reach, while allowing yourself to find peace when you don’t follow your heart. Learn to succeed when others predict you will fail, and to laugh when you stumble or get lost.

    Your dreams and your life are your own. Never forget that.

  • Why Life Is A Lot More Fun When We Stop Trying to Be Perfect

    Why Life Is A Lot More Fun When We Stop Trying to Be Perfect

    Friends Having Fun

    “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

  • How to Use Your Anger to Help Yourself

    How to Use Your Anger to Help Yourself

    “Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to a better understanding of ourselves.” ~Carl Jung

    I’ve experienced many degrees of anger throughout my life.

    There’s the fleeting and mild kind of anger that hit me when I realized I forgot to pack my toothbrush, or when a friend was tardy again for our morning hike.

    Then, there’s the corroding and strong kind of anger that I felt when I discovered that my husband had been lying to me for months.

    Half-truths about his after-work activities and the people he met during those activities led to an affair, and the affair led to more half-truths and bigger lies.

    I was angry with my husband for lying, but also with myself for not having noticed the first signs of dishonesty. Later, I was irate for being so naïve to give him multiple chances to change his behavior, only to be deceived again.

    Angry thoughts would materialize seemingly out of nowhere, and every time the Angry Monster attacked, I felt the urgent need to hide it away before anyone would realize that I had become prey to this negative emotion.

    If I am a good person, I thought, I shouldn’t feel anger.

    We grew up hearing that anger is a weakness. Anger is shameful. Anger is like one of those buzzing mosquitoes that must be squashed before it bites us. Anger is a monster. But now I know that’s not all there is to anger.

    I’ve learned that anger can actually be helpful if we know how to manage it. How? Read on.

    Anger can help you know yourself better.

    I understood that the intense anger I experienced when my husband lied to me shows I deeply value honesty and openness. This allowed me to prioritize these qualities in future relationships.

    Keep in mind that when someone does something that makes you angry, you have the opportunity to learn what your personal values are.

    Also, when anger strikes, take a step back and ask yourself why you’re angry. Are you offended by something that was said to you? This might mean that there is a hint of truth in what the other person said.

    Contemplate offensive comments with an objective mind. If you realize there’s some truth in the statement, use it as an opportunity to become a better person. If you conclude that the comment has no real basis, then you can send it to the trash folder of your mind.

    Anger can help you raise your energy level and move out of depression and despair.

    Based on scientific studies of the energy associated with human emotions, anger calibrates at a higher energy level than hopelessness, apathy, or despair.

    My anger propelled me to try new activities and meet new people to show the world I was reclaiming my dignity and my future.

    Next time anger surfaces, let it drive you to take positive action and to change the unpleasant circumstances in your life.

    You can choose to reject the labels society has assigned to anger.

    When you feel ashamed for being angry, as society says you should feel, you let yourself sink to low energy emotions.

    Your shame and guilt, coupled with repressed anger, can negatively affect your body and create conditions such as heart disease, digestive problems, and weakness of the immune system. Worst of all, you’ll be unable to experience authentic joy.

    One day I asked myself why being angry was such a source of shame. That’s when I realized I had been judging my emotions based on the messages I had received from my environment. These messages were not helping me feel good enough to let go of my anger.

    Instead of becoming a victim of society’s expectations, choose to see anger as an emotion that is part of the human experience and a tool that can help you become a better person.

    You have the power to select how to express your anger.

    Angry people are portrayed as bitter or aggressive, but this doesn’t have to be the case for you.

    Kickboxing became my physical outlet to release any residual angry feelings. You could choose to express your anger through journaling, sharing your feelings with a trusted friend, or going for the fastest three-mile run of your life!

    You decide how long to be angry.

    I realized that although I could use anger in positive ways, it was stealing my ability to be happy.

    I knew I deserved to be happy again, so I reminded myself that I had a choice to let go every time my angry thoughts surfaced. Over time, it became easier to return to a state of peace and contentment.

    You can choose to take advantage of the lessons in your anger, and then let the feelings go. Tell your anger that you’re too busy making the best out of your time to allow him in your life for long!

  • Working on Impatience and Appreciating Its Gifts

    Working on Impatience and Appreciating Its Gifts

    Man Running

    “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” ~Marcel Proust  

    It’s taken me a while, but I have finally learned to appreciate aspects of my own impatience.

    For a long time I did not like this quality about myself. I am still working on becoming more patient, because impatience and I go way back.

    I was impatient to get out of high school, so I fast tracked that whole experience.

    I was impatient to get working, so I started working when I was fourteen.

    I was impatient to finish university, so I rushed through it, while working up to thirty-five hours a week, not stopping to enjoy myself or have fun.

    My daughter was impatient to be born, so she came early, and so did my son.

    I wanted to move up the corporate ladder fast, so I sprinted and pushed and worked all kinds of crazy hours that come with being in the world of technology consulting for a global fortune 500 organization.

    And then I got sick.

    My body got tired of me pushing, and shoving, and not pausing even for a second to pay attention to its cries for help. Illness forced me to stop everything and pare my life down to the basics.

    I got diagnosed with some fancy labels like chronic fatigue syndrome, depression, fibromyalgia, and eventually an even fancier label, PTSD.

    Even getting dressed and making my kids meals felt like climbing Mount Everest.

    I let shame take over for a little while, and I hid from the world, the career I had worked so hard to build, my family, and even my kids; hiding in bed while they were at school and haphazardly pulling myself together before they came home.

    After a few months, my own innate personality started to come through and my impatience reared its head out of the fatigue, depression, and piles of laundry.

    I wanted my life back. I was not going to write off my future in my early thirties, and be resigned to my couch and bed, while my children were waiting for their tired mother to wake up and play.

    I got myself into therapy. I wanted no part of taking drugs. It was a personal choice that to this day, I don’t regret. It’s not for everyone. It felt right for me.

    I worked with therapists, healers, and naturopathic/homeopathic doctors; I tried Chinese medicine, acupuncture, all kinds of massage and bodywork and energy treatments, and spent thousands of dollars on nutritional supplements and testing.

    I worked with shamans and took trips to silent retreats, meditated, wrote, drew and doodled in my journal, danced to 5Rhythms, moved with hula hoops and even travelled to the Amazon looking for answers.

    The thing is, during much this time, I felt a huge amount of shame for my impatience. My healer/teacher/therapist and every other practitioner would smile with understanding for my impatience to get healthy and feel better.

    They would urge me to be patient and encourage me to honor the timing of my own body.

    They were right. I knew this, too. But the rational part of me wasn’t always the one in charge.

    I often felt like time was running out. I had a life to get back to, and it was passing me by every day that I lacked the energy and the mental clarity to fully live it. The body aches and pains and other physical discomforts didn’t make it any easier either.

    Eventually, the wiser part of me got it.

    Our body does have its own wisdom. It does speak, and we need to pause to listen in order to learn the language that each of our own bodies uses to speak to us. And this is not something that would have typically been taught to us while we were in school.

    While it’s wise to work on our impatience, we can simultaneously appreciate its gifts.

    The biggest gift I received by working with my impatience was perseverance. I didn’t give up. I continued to search for answers to my health conditions. I was obsessed with wanting to know the answers to my many questions. Why did I get sick? What was the root cause? Why did my body start to shut down on me?

    Impatience gave me the drive to keep going, even when it felt like I wasn’t making much progress.

    And impatience gave me hope. Each time I felt like I was taking one step forward, to be brought back ten, I would explore new healing options and get excited about the possibility of it working.

    I used to beat myself up for being impatient with myself, for how long it was all taking, and for finding it difficult to sit and meditate. I wished so many times that I could be more Zen-like and graceful in the way I met my health challenges.

    Many times sitting across therapists and healers and other wise people I had hired to be on my healing team, I would feel like that squirmy little kid in class. You know, the one who sat constantly moving in their seat, waving their hands about the air, hardly able to contain themselves because they had so much to say.

    I was that kid in an adult’s body. I wanted my healing team to know everything I was doing. I wanted them to know everything that I knew, had tried, and discovered so that that there would be no wasting time. All they had to do was tell me what I needed to do next, and I would get on it.

    Seven years later, I’m now better. I don’t identify myself through those same labels I was once diagnosed with. I have learned to tune in and listen to my body, and navigate my inner world and some dark alleys that I never knew existed.

    Through this process, I have transformed my wounds into wisdom, discovered my life’s purpose, and continue to use the insights to course correct, and live my life making conscious choices as best I can.

    I am grateful for the role that impatience played in my journey from illness to wellness. I am enjoying my second chance at life with my children, and doing my best to be a present mother. I am teaching my children these same tools of awareness and self-regulation by the way that I meet life, them, and myself.

    Though I could have done without the restlessness, I truly believe that without the persistence that resulted from my impatience, I might still be lying on a couch in my living room, napping.

    So, here’s my invitation to you: If you are like me and have been beating yourself up over your impatience, take some time to review how your impatience has helped you in your life.

    How has your impatience been a friend or a blessing?

    How has it allowed you not to give up when you desperately wanted to?

    How did it help you to not take ambiguity or “no” for an answer, and propel you to find your own truth?

    You might be surprised and grateful at what you discover!

    Man running via Shutterstock

  • Releasing Comparisons: No One Is Perfect and We All Deserve Love

    Releasing Comparisons: No One Is Perfect and We All Deserve Love

    Woman Hugging Herself

    “Comparison is the thief of joy.” ~Theodore Roosevelt

    I spent my teenage years and early twenties believing that my weight was my worth; that I had to look and be a particular way to be accepted or loved.

    I lived in a negative cycle of comparing myself to everyone. I remember sitting in on one of my lectures in university, trying to work out if my lecturer was fatter or thinner than me.

    I look back now and wonder how many times I missed the fun and parties I was too scared to go to because I felt too fat or uncool or whatever negative feeling I was dwelling on at the time.

    When I was twenty-seven, my boyfriend of three years dumped me, on the day I found out I was pregnant. Worse still, or so it felt at the time, just a few months later he had a new girlfriend, a beautiful girl, who was also a single mother.

    I think the day I saw them together was the day I hit rock bottom. I cried so much and lost fourteen pounds in five days. I felt absolutely shattered and utterly worthless.

    Why wasn’t I good enough?

    How could he not want his own baby yet love another man’s child?

    Was I too ugly?

    Was I too fat?

    Why wasn’t I lovable?

    Destructive thoughts whizzed around my head in a very unhealthy manor.

    I lost my baby, which also made me feel worthless.

    His new girlfriend had everything I thought I wanted. She had the perfect body, she was absolutely gorgeous, she also had a baby, and the man I loved, loved her.

    I had to learn to love myself. It wasn’t easy to start, but the first step was to stop comparing myself unfavorably to everyone, especially her.

    It was destroying me.

    With everything that happens to you, you can either feel sorry for yourself or treat it as a gift.

    I wallowed in self-pity, regret, and depression for eighteen months. One day I stumbled upon Dr. Wayne Dyer’s Your Erroneous Zone. It was the book that woke me up and made me realize only I could change the way I was seeing myself and my past.

    The past was gone, done, over. I couldn’t change it, no matter how much it hurt. I had to accept what was, and most importantly, I had to learn to see myself in a different light.

    Here’s I how I did it.

    At first I kept a list of everything nice anyone said to me.

    I started a gratitude journal.

    I went back to basics—appreciation, picking love over fear.

    I learned that just because he didn’t love me, that didn’t mean that I’m unlovable.

    Slowly but surely, I began to see my value.

    I realized I was a worthwhile human being after all.

    As a nutritionist, I help clients change their health every day, so whenever I felt truly helpless, I would find some who needed my help and offer it for free. Was it good business? Some would say no, but for me, it was therapy.

    Kindness therapy, you get what you give. I was giving love, and in return I found myself. If you ever feel helpless, reach out and help someone. Smile at a stranger. It maybe the only person they see smile at them all day. You never know the ripple effect of the kindness you spread.

    I wrote articles on nutrition for magazines. At first, I think this was to give me validation. Seeing my name printed in a magazine must mean I’m a worthwhile human being, right?

    But the letters of gratitude I received made me realize that I knew things that could help people. One lady wrote to me saying her daughter’s behavior had improved dramatically after she implemented the changes I had suggested.

    These small things helped me realize that while I may not look like a Victoria’s Secret model, like my ex’s new girlfriend, I am still a worthwhile human being who has the ability to help people.

    I also started to see that even those who appear to “have it all” to the outside world often still have their own issues going on. I realized that having looks like a Victoria’s Secret model doesn’t protect you from heartbreak or sadness, a fact I had ignored until now.

    Cheryl Cole is one of the most beautiful women in show business, yet her husband cheated on her.

    We have to love ourselves. Comparison and envy are destructive forces that steal away contentment and block the flow of love. We don’t have to prove we are good enough to anyone; we just have to realize we were born worthy of love, and we’re lovable exactly as we are.

    I’ve learned that there will always be people who are more and less attractive than me. However, beauty is subjective, and we all have different taste.

    I believe beauty is a characteristic of a person. Beauty comes from a person’s soul. Beauty is in a person’s actions, how they treat people, how they care about people, and who they are as a person.

    So don’t live a half-life comparing yourself to others. Comparison in any form is destructive. Downward comparisons can make you vain and upward comparisons can make you bitter.

    We all deserve to be loved by others and to love others, but first we need to love ourselves.

    Love yourself just as you are. You, as much as anyone else in the world, deserve your own love.

    Woman hugging herself image via Shutterstock

  • Why Walking Away Is Sometimes the Most Compassionate Choice

    Why Walking Away Is Sometimes the Most Compassionate Choice

    “Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It’s a relationship between equals.” ~Pema Chodron

    In May 2012, I was appointed guardian and conservator of my father, and my brother was appointed co-guardian. Our father was declared mentally incompetent by the county court.

    My father was, and is, an alcoholic. When I was growing up, he was an abusive alcoholic. He gave out wounds like gifts. He used words to cut us open, and then he threatened us with salt.

    I lived in hypervigilance, and I learned that being alone, quiet, and invisible was the safest state of being. I was like a bottle—filled up with the wounds my father gave me as his bottles emptied.  

    And then I spilled.

    In therapy, I learned how to heal. I learned how to give myself gifts that were actually gifts, how to love, how to grow, and how to move on.

    Then, my father deteriorated. He was over sixty-five, and had been an alcoholic most of his life. He threatened to kill me, my brother, and my boyfriend.

    He was having flashbacks from Vietnam. He was being abused by strangers who gave him alcohol and drugs and took his money.

    He was hospitalized several times. He threatened to shoot himself. He started answering his door with a loaded gun. He left half-eaten roast beef sandwiches on my brother’s doorstep.

    We exhausted our avenues before petitioning the court to declare him incompetent. Deciding to petition to become the legal guardian of a man who mistreated me, in order to protect him, was the hardest decision I’ve ever made.

    I was trying to practice compassion, to treat him the opposite of how he treated me. I felt sorry for him.

    He was an unhappy man, and instead of going to therapy or AA or changing, he drank. He threw his unhappiness at others. He built walls and imprisoned himself behind them. And he lost everything, even his mind.

    It was hard not to feel sorry for a man who lost so much. In order to save what was left of his life, I went to court with my brother. Out of compassion. And out of hope that maybe something was left, and he could find, if not happiness, then peace.

    If I could do this, I thought, if I could protect him and guard him from harm, then I am showing compassion.

    I was wrong.

    When we were in court, my aunt, my father’s sister, publicly denounced me and used my childhood abuse against me to prove that I was mentally unstable and unfit to care for my father. She lied about my relationship with my father, about my intentions to provide care, and about my student debt.

    A woman who I had not seen in almost ten years, and who was never a close member of my family, proceeded to tell the court about child abuse that she never bothered to stop, in order to claim that I was irreparably damaged from it.

    It was my nightmare made real.

    I spent the next two years struggling to wake up. My father, whose brain was atrophied from drinking, became abusive again.

    As he recovered rudimentary levels of functioning, he also lost his ability to “save face,” and in addition to abusing my brother and myself, he abused the staff at his nursing home and his fellow retirees.

    He was threatened with expulsion on more than one occasion. Under the constant stress and constant abuse, I withered. I tried to stick with it, even though I felt my patience, my calm, my self-confidence, and my happiness eroding.

    I wanted to try to help my father because he was my father. Because it was sad. Because he was sad. Because he was an addict. Because he made such terrible choices. Because I was trying to show compassion. But I had stopped showing compassion to myself.

    When my mother was hospitalized with a brain aneurysm three weeks after having surgery for pancreatic cancer, I was petrified. I spent a month with her in the ICU while she was mostly unconscious, and at some point during that month, I began to realize that I couldn’t take care of everyone.

    I watched her monitor beep and squiggle, and there was nothing that anyone, not me, not the nurses, not the neurosurgeons, could do but wait until they could operate.

    As each day gathered together, I collected them into a gradual epiphany: I couldn’t take care of everyone. I most certainly couldn’t take care of anyone if I wasn’t already taking care of myself. And taking care of myself meant giving myself compassion.

    When I volunteered to become my father’s guardian and conservator, I wanted to prove that I was healed enough to offer him compassion. I had wanted to stop being a person who was wounded, and who received help, and instead become a person who was healed and helping others.

    But these two roles are not distinct. And sometimes they can be filled by the same person. It is possible to be both wounded and healing and healer and giver and receiver, all at the same time.

    Compassion to the detriment of oneself is not compassionate. Compassion needs to begin with yourself. Compassion doesn’t prove anything, or judge anyone, or lift anyone.

    Compassion is loving-kindness, a recognition that we are all the same, that we are beings trying to be, however we are. And that includes yourself.

    I decided to be compassionate to myself, and I quit being my father’s guardian and conservator. My brother quit as well. My father now has a professional guardian tending to his needs, providing for his well-being, and handling his assets. And now I can tend to my own needs, and well-being, and assets.

    Sometimes, despite our best intentions, our compassion toward others falls flat. In an unhealthy relationship, we may need to walk away and extend our kindheartedness, our helping, and most importantly, our compassion, to ourselves.

  • Overcome Limiting Thoughts: 5 Ways to Be Happier and More Present

    Overcome Limiting Thoughts: 5 Ways to Be Happier and More Present

    Happy and Present

    “The past exists only in our memories, the future only in our plans. The present is our only reality.” ~Robert Pirsig

    Do you sometimes feel overwhelmed by unpleasant thoughts and feelings? Do they show up like an uninvited guest when you’re least expecting them?

    About eight months ago, I quit a lucrative corporate job in finance to follow my passion, writing.

    Like most things in life, this decision came with a cost.

    And all the angst that comes with it.

    A few months into my venture, I noticed my angst had become a large part of my mental world. I worried I’d run out of money, that my dream of being a well-paid writer wouldn’t materialize.

    I’d admonish myself for leaving a perfectly secure job to chase a pipe dream. “What were you thinking?” I’d say to myself, “I mean, how stupid could you be?

    Eventually, I noticed something interesting.

    All the obstacles to my happiness were about imagined future scenarios (i.e.: I will never earn a living again), or doubts about past choices (i.e.: Did I make the right choice by leaving a lucrative corporate job behind?).

    None of them were rooted in the present moment.

    In fact, they stole my present moments like thieves in the night.

    Eventually, I realized that if I didn’t deal with these feelings, I’d snap. I had to find a way to deal with these obstacles to my happiness that kept me from taking positive action in the present.

    So I did what anyone would do: I turned to Google.

    I researched various approaches of dealing with my feelings that held me back from acting in the present.

    I discovered meditation and daily mindfulness practice as a powerful solution, and subscribed to various mindfulness blogs.

    A few months down the track, I came across this post by Lori Deschene.

    Lori’s words around letting go of emotions (dealing with the mental demons once and for all) struck a chord with me:

    “Feel it fully. If you stifle your feelings, they may leak out and affect everyone around you—not just the person who inspired your anger. Before you can let go of any emotion, you have to feel it fully.”

    The truth is, you can only let go of feelings after immersing yourself in them.

    Sounds counterintuitive, doesn’t it?

    But that’s the one thing that always works.

    The following are five great ways to overcome the obstacles to happiness and feelings that keep you from living fully in the present.

    1. Fully embrace your feelings with openness, even the negative ones.

    That’s right.

    Embrace your feelings fully in each present moment and let them pass when they’ve run their course.

    So, if you’re feeling fear, feel it fully in the now. Without reacting to it.

    Watch the fear as it manifests in your body. Fear manifests as butterflies in my stomach and tingling in my forearms.

    How does it manifest in yours?

    Remember, the only way to truly let go of feelings is to allow them to run their natural course with conscious awareness.

    2. Use journaling to create mental spaciousness and increase your ability to let go.

    This is quite effective in slowing the mind down.

    Most writers would agree that seeing your thoughts appear on a page before you is therapeutic.

    Writing also increases your ability to detach from the immediacy of painful thoughts and feelings.

    Journaling is a great way to bring awareness to your destructive thought patterns, so you can change them.

    At the end of each day, write down what you learned from the day. What upset you and what made you feel fantastic? If something upset you, how much of that was based on your interpretation of the situation, which arose from your assumptions about it?

    How often do you journal?

    3. Use your breath to bring your attention back to the present moment.

    Mark Twain famously said, “I’ve had a lot of worries in my life, most of which never happened.”

    So many of our fears (future projections) never actually come to pass.

    And anyway, the past and the future live only in our imagination—in this present moment.

    When your mind is fully in the present, you can’t engage in fearful thoughts about the future or regretful thoughts about the past.

    So, focus on your breath in this present moment.

    The benefits of doing this are as follows:

    • It brings your attention back to this moment.
    • It engages your mind in something non-conceptual.

    What’s your breathing like right now? Is it deep? Shallow?

    4. Recognize that your reaction to events dictates your life experience, not the event itself.

    In his book called Your Erroneous Zones, Wayne Dyer explains the importance of separating our reactions to thoughts from the thoughts themselves.

    Imagine this.

    Cal agonizes over the idea that his boss thinks he’s stupid. He loses sleep over it. It’s the bane of his existence.

    Now, let’s say Cal had no idea that his boss thought he was stupid.

    Then he wouldn’t be unhappy, right? How could Cal be unhappy about something he didn’t know?

    The point: Cal’s boss’ opinion isn’t making Cal unhappy. It’s Cal’s reaction to his boss’ opinion that’s making Cal unhappy.

    By taking ownership of his reaction of his own thoughts, Cal can take charge of his mental world.

    He can choose to react differently to his boss’ (low) opinion of him. Cal can choose to give his boss’ opinion less importance by recognizing that it’s one person’s opinion among many.

    Paradoxically, this would actually enable Cal to see it as constructive criticism and better himself as a result.

    Think about the last time you were upset. What were you telling yourself about the event that upset you? Were you upset because of your reaction to the event or because of the event itself?

    5. Discover how your underlying assumptions are secretly affecting your life.

    Our underlying assumptions, of which we are often completely unaware, are responsible for a lot of self blame and distress.

    Let’s go back to my example at the start of this post.

    My feelings of fear, anxiety, and worry were all based on an implicit assumption that my writing career should have taken off within six months. My assumption just wasn’t valid. Getting traction as a writer often takes years.

    My underlying assumptions were wrongly implying that I had failed without me realizing it.

    Once I recognized the absurdity of the underlying assumption, the feelings of fear around never being able to launch a successful blog dissipated immediately.

    What are the underlying assumptions that have you judging yourself harshly?

    —

    Conquering your demons isn’t easy, but nothing worthwhile is.

    Sure, it’s often uncomfortable to embrace your feelings fully, or to be mindful of how your underlying assumptions are sabotaging your life. But each of us has the capacity to do it.

    The question isn’t, “Can I do it?” but rather, “Will I do it?”

    If you want to live a full life, resolve to set yourself on the path this very moment. Right now. Don’t put it off for another second.

    You have to realize that this life is yours to be lived to the fullest. And only you can determine your attitude toward letting go of self-defeating thoughts and behaviors.

    So take a deep breath. Breathe in this moment. And give it your best.

    Right now!

    Happy yoga woman image via Shutterstock

  • What Happens When We Don’t Say What We Think and Feel

    What Happens When We Don’t Say What We Think and Feel

    Talking

    “The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.” ~George Bernard Shaw

    Can we just talk?

    Those words can be a buzzkill on dates, and yet talking is the most profound interaction we will ever have with another human being.

    A while back, my husband walked into the kitchen where I was reading an article on my phone and asked me if I had a chance to get a Father’s Day card for his dad (who lives in Canada). I said no I didn’t, and, since it was eight in the evening, I’d get it tomorrow.

    He put on his shoes, got the keys, and said, “I’m just going to get it,” then slammed the door.

    Now, this seems like an appropriate conversation; however, what I can’t relate through the computer is the tone of it. You know, that tone where you know there’s more to it then what was just uttered. Plus, the door slam was like a slap in the face.

    Immediately, my mind started accumulating thoughts about how I had messed up. How I place more emphasis on my own family, and he must feel I don’t do enough for his. I was spiraling into negativity and, within minutes, I was in that dark place of “I’m not good enough.”

    Usually I sit with this for hours and days; however, tonight, I couldn’t take it, and what I needed to say was busting through. We talked as soon as I took a few breaths and re-centered myself.

    I asked him if he was upset. He responded no, but he felt the need to go get the card that instant. I brought up slamming the door, and that it made me feel like there was more to the story.

    He agreed that he was upset because I didn’t look up from my phone to answer the question. AHHH relief! He just wanted my full attention during a conversation. He doesn’t think I’m the daughter-in-law or wife from hell.

    Me: Why didn’t you just ask me?

    Him: I feel like you should’ve known.

    Me: I’m not a mind reader and you aren’t a kid. Tell me what you need.

    There are so many miscommunications like this between us, like the time when our outside bar fell over in the wind and the glass top broke. He came outside and I said, “Oh it’s broken,” and he said, “Tell me the truth. What happened? Did you break it?”

    I was horrified. Where’s the innocent until proven guilty? I felt disrespected and like a liar. After talking about it I realized this happened because our past communication had been like this. Out of fear, I may have told a white lie or left out details.

    I further re-centered to realize that I had allowed us to talk this way to each other most of the time. I would get upset and then let it go. I didn’t state what I really thought or felt; not only did this not allow us to grow, but this allowed him to think everything was okay.

    I finally found the courage to state my boundary for communication in our marriage, starting with: can we talk.

    I would need more openness in our conversations. More direct communication about what you really mean to say rather than expecting that I “should just know.”

    I would need you to just say, “Hey, can your put down your phone so I can ask you a question?” Even simply saying, “I’m not sure what to say right now” is better than the silence, the hesitation, the pause, which gives my ego a meaning, a reason to put me down and spiral me into that dark corner.

    If you are telling me exactly what you need from me, and I from you, there is no interference, no misinformation, no blame, shame, or guilt in either one of us.

    This simple interaction of just talking completely transformed the communication in our marriage. It also gave me the power and strength to express what I will and won’t stand for in our marriage, or in any relationship in my life.

    Simply by talking. The energy around us becomes light, and we are able to accept the love that is between us. In honoring our words and our voice, we stand for the greatest human characteristic we have.

    Other animals mate, cuddle, and kiss, but talking, that’s only a human trait, and it’s the key to all human interaction, since it’s the only way anyone can know what we’re thinking and feeling.

    So talk, be vulnerable, say exactly what’s on your mind. Truth is, the other person may be thinking the same thing, and you could be the link that reopens communication and makes them feel human again. So let’s just talk…

     Couple talking image via Shutterstock

  • 3 Ways to Let Go Of Control and Relax Into The Flow

    3 Ways to Let Go Of Control and Relax Into The Flow

    “You must learn to let go. Release the stress. You were never in control anyway.” ~Steve Maraboli

    Sometimes I try really hard to control things.

    I run two businesses so, in many ways, control gives me a sense of peace of mind.

    When my team is doing what they are supposed to be doing, I can relax. When business is booming, I can relax. When I am getting what I want, I can relax.

    This control freak-ness doesn’t just apply for me in just business. I used to be this way about my body, and I notice these tendencies even pop up in my relationships too.

    When I feel like I am in control, I feel free. When I feel like I’m not in control, I feel frustrated, scared, and angry. It rocks my sense of security straight to my core.

    It’s tough to admit, but it’s the truth.

    I’m getting a lot better at relaxing without needing to be in control, and I’m realizing that the greatest control is in letting go of the need for it.

    When I try to control, I get attached to how I think it should play out; I think I know the best way for things to happen. But many examples in my life have shown me that when I trust and let go of thinking I know best, the outcome is better than anything I could have imagined.

    Letting go doesn’t mean giving up the desire, it means letting go of the struggle.

    It’s exhausting needing to be in control all the time, isn’t it? And the truth really is that any sense of control that we think that we have is false anyway.

    Our greatest power is in learning how to trust. When we focus on our desires with a sense of non-attachment to exactly how they unfold, it releases the blocks and opens us up to greater opportunity.

    Here are three ways I’ve learned to trust and let go of trying so hard to control.

    1. Step away.

    Richard Branson has been one of my greatest mentors from afar. He amazes me with his ability to balance business, family, and fun in the perfect way for him. He doesn’t even own a desk, and never has!

    I love watching the videos that Virgin posts on their blog about his life, because they remind me that creativity and great ideas come from stepping away from work and letting your mind open up. Richard says he gets some of his best ideas while in the bath, and he kite surfs every day, even if it’s just for fifteen minutes.

    While we don’t all have the luxury of our own private island to jet away to (yet), we do have the ability to take a long walk outside in nature, start our morning with even just five minutes of meditation or yoga, or turn the computer off an hour earlier each night.

    Taking time to enjoy life will only inspire and rejuvenate your energy for your work.

    2. Stop looking around so much.

    Compare and despair. Have you ever gone on Facebook to see what your friends are up to, and then twenty minutes later you are down in the dumps because somehow you ended up on a thread or a site comparing yourself to that person and where you think you should be?

    The second we get caught up in comparison, it sucks the creativity and energy right out of us. One of the best things I’ve done for myself is cut back on looking around at what everyone else is doing.

    I finally got to the point where I realized that, not only am I never going to measure up to them, I never want to!

    I want what I want, not what they have. So now I just try to stay in my own little bubble, working on the creative projects that excite me.

    Every now and then I do look around to see what others are up to, but I am super conscious to continuously check in with myself and ask, “Is this what I want to create for myself?” versus immediately judging how I measure up to their level of success.

    I also remind myself that I am on the right path, because I am on my path.

    3. Listen to your body.

    The human body is an amazing machine, one that most of us take for granted. We get signals from our body all day long, signals I call inner wisdom or intuition. Oftentimes, we ignore those signals and choose to follow what everybody else is telling us to do instead.

    Our body really has a vast amount of information that can help us with making decisions. When I am trying to control, I am totally ignoring my intuition. The more I relax into the flow, the more I rely on my intuition to guide me.

    Sometimes my body tells me I need a fifteen-minute nap. Sometimes it tells me that it’s not time to write the blog post right now and instead I should focus on something else. Whatever it is, I really try to listen and override the ego part of me that tells me I must push or force things to happen in order to succeed.

    It’s the difference between being solution-oriented versus problem-oriented, or in other words, inspiration-driven versus fear-driven.

    As a society, I feel like we need to remind each other often that an unhappy journey does not lead to a happy ending. It’s like we believe that if an achievement doesn’t involve stress or hardship, we don’t deserve it.

    We do deserve it, and we deserve a life built around a lot of ease and fun.

    What’s one thing you do to let go and release stress?

  • Ending a Toxic Relationship: When It’s Time to Say “No More”

    Ending a Toxic Relationship: When It’s Time to Say “No More”

    No More

    “Worry less, smile more. Don’t regret, just learn and grow.” ~Unknown

    The day finally came when my heart was strong enough to speak up.

    I had spent many years trying to be the calm, sensible one. The one who would try to rationalize my sister’s behavior just to keep the peace.

    For years the strategy was to keep everything in its place and accept what was said, done, or requested. The day finally came when the weight of accepting the burden was too much to bear.

    No amount of talking would convince my sister that I was being reasonable. It had to be her way. It had to be acknowledged that I had somehow erred, when in fact it was her very own thoughts that had caused her pain.

    So, no more, I decided then and there.

    “I am done. We are both far too dysfunctional to be in each other’s lives. I wish you all the best… You can blame me…This is what I want.” With those words I gave up on our relationship.

    The feeling of freedom rose. The confidence from finally taking a stand was a trophy I now held proudly. “Well done!” I cheered. I no longer had to deal with accusations. Hooray! I was now in charge. I was the creator of my life.

    Then, ever so slowly, it started to shift. Ever so gently the doubts crept in. Old scripts started playing. The mind was reverting back to old default programs.

    We had both suffered as children. Our parents had been abusive in many ways. We never told anyone what happened in our home. We believed we had to protect our parents.

    I became the surrogate parent. We both accepted that our parents did not know any better, doing to us what had been done to them. We allowed them to continue in our lives as adults.

    My sister was the first to end contact with our parents. I was convinced I was enlightened enough that I could save them. All that ended the night I found myself terrified, at a police station, explaining why I thought my father was about to come to my home and hurt me.

    That night I spoke the truth. That night I heard my mother speak another lie to protect my father. That night I said “no more” to my parents.

    That was an end I could justify. I had to find help to get through the flood of emotions that threatened to drown me. Among the consolations was the fact that I still had my sister. Nobody else understood what we had gone through.

    Now, however, I began to doubt my bravery. My sister and I were supposed to be there for each other until the very end.

    I worried that I had made a terrible mistake. My view of who I was had shifted. I was no longer the savior. I was no longer the protector. I was no longer the one who got along with everybody.

    I saw myself as abandoning my sister. How could I have been so mean? How could I just end it like that? I was a terrible person!

    The pain was intense. The anger, the hurt, the bitterness all began to choke my life. Overwhelmingly, they tortured my soul.

    Years of buried resentment began to rise up like icebergs slowly breaking the surface from their depths. The feelings, once anchored to my core, were now exposed to reveal infected open wounds.

    I cried. I screamed. I read. I meditated. I yelled. I punched. I got angry. I journaled. What was wrong with me? I had always held it together. To witness myself unravelling was terrifying.

    Dark and ugly thoughts plagued me. Driving was now an opportunity to vent. I was safe in my car; I could blast my horn, I could utter every imaginable swear word, and I could find fault with every driver’s technique.

    I was a person possessed by anger and looking for a way to punish.

    My daily meditation seemed to go nowhere. I connected to the universe. I begged for help.

    I had persevered with the early morning practice for months, when one morning I suddenly realized that my sister was no longer the first thought of my day. That was new. Then ever so slowly, other thoughts began disappearing.

    There was a gentle loving energy helping me to create new thoughts to replace the old. I was okay. I am okay. Everything will be okay.

    It was an inexplicably subtle process that I was convinced was not working when, on another ordinary day, I realized I was waking up okay.

    Realizations began emerging. It was fair for me to end the discussion. No amount of talking was going to change my sister’s mind. Years of role-playing had created an expectation that I was to be at fault.

    By speaking up, I was positioning myself as a priority. I was no longer willing to rate myself last. I deserved better, and I now saw that I had made the perfect decision for me.

    Another realization soon came to mind: “You can blame me.” Those were the words I was most angry about. Those words came out of my mouth. I was mad at myself. I was mad that I had given my sister a reason to ignore her role in our story.

    That had always been my go-to solution. Take on the blame to keep the peace.

    When that was done, everything would go back to the way it was. We could live a fantasy life of closeness, all the while not realizing that I was slowly breaking my own heart.

    This was the lesson I was now being shown. I had to learn to speak up when I did not agree. I had to learn to take responsibility for my role in allowing it to be that way.

    I had wanted my sister to love me and to make me feel important and needed. For this I had paid an expensive price. My sister, I realized, played her role to perfection in allowing me to wake up to this truth.

    A few weeks later another realization came to mind: Silently, we had both blamed each other for parts of our pain. We were two damaged souls trying to live our lives with massive wounds in our hearts.

    We could not give each other what we did not have. We did not know how to love each other without the past tearing open the old wounds.

    I realized that I was not a terrible person for making a decision that was in my best interest. No one should be given an automatic pass into your life, regardless of their title.

    It is actually a privilege that should be honored and treated with respect. The lesson may be painful, but if you find some way through the hurt, a better future awaits.

    Each new morning brings a little more light. The universe continues to coax me to take another step away from the ledge of my past. I realize that the heartbreak I felt was a dissolving of me into a million tiny molecules before the gentle re-sculpting of those atoms into a more open and peaceful me.

    Is it time for you to speak up? Is it time for you to find the courage to say “No more”?

    Woman on the rocks image via Shutterstock

  • Love Shows Up When You Do

    Love Shows Up When You Do

    Love

    “Slow down and everything you are chasing will come around and catch you.” ~John de Paola

    After six months of being single after my divorce, I wanted to date again. I was still afraid of failure and rejection, but I wanted to try. I felt the best way to get over it was to dedicate my time to finding someone new.

    I didn’t know where to begin, but I knew I had a clearer understanding of what I wanted in a relationship. I definitely knew what I didn’t want in a relationship. I thought if I could just find someone with the right qualities, happiness would follow.

    I made a long list of qualities I desired in a man. I signed up on internet dating sites and asked friends to set me up on blind dates. I thought I could get what I wanted by playing the odds, like sending out 100 resumes for a job hoping one company would call back.

    I felt I had learned from my past mistakes and was impatient to find true love. Six months later, after a string of bad dates, I was no closer to finding the love I desired and the whiff of desperation seeped from my pores.

    I started to feel like maybe there really wasn’t anyone out there for me. So, I decided to stop chasing. I began to take care of myself. I decided to be the person I was looking for while at the same time, creating a way for the right man to find me.

    I decided to remove all the clutter from my home and my mind. I threw out boxes and bags of clothes and objects that represented the old me. I wrote daily gratitude lists and stopped thinking about what I didn’t have.

    I started going out to movies alone. I found new restaurants to try. I took long hikes in the woods.

    Once I took my focus off finding the right person, I started to find myself. I could sit for hours on my back porch reading a novel. I would buy myself chocolates and flowers for Valentine’s Day.

    Once I was providing for all of my own needs, I started to smile again. This wasn’t a race—it was my life. I intended to enjoy every moment of it, with or without someone by my side.

    Around this time, I started to think about finding some new friends. I lost half of my friends during my divorce. I was looking for positive people to hang out with that would be interested in the same things I liked to do.

    I started joining book clubs and meetup groups. I went to exercise classes and asked coworkers out for drinks. I started accepting invitations to parties.

    Meanwhile, I still meditated. I still read on the porch and I stopped looking at internet dating sites. I just wanted to have a good time and find some friendly people my age.

    I wasn’t having a lot of luck in the friend department, though. It seemed like I was in a strange age group. When I joined clubs, most of the members were either a decade older or younger than me.

    I wondered why no one my age seemed to go out. I reasoned they must be busy with parenting and working a lot like most people in their thirties and forties. I just wasn’t finding people my age.

    Then one day, sitting around the house doing absolutely nothing, I had an epiphany—I would start a group for people my age to meet and find friends!

    At the second meeting of my group, my future husband walked in the door. I knew I would marry him the second I saw him. And yes, he has most of the qualities on that original list.

    If you’re looking for love and feeling like time is running out, slow down. Breathe, go buy yourself some flowers, and stop trying so hard. Love comes to those who are at peace with who they are.

    Here are some tips for cultivating love while you wait for it to find you:

    1. If you build it, they will come.

    If you can’t find what you’re looking for, create a way for it to find you. I created a meetup group for people my age so I could meet friends in a casual atmosphere.

    2. Be the person you’re looking for.

    The best way to find love is to love you. Spend time exercising, meditating, and cultivating your self-esteem. When the right person does show up, a calm confidence will be far more attractive than fear and anxiety.

    3. Stop and smell the roses.

    It’s not a marathon. You’re looking for the best person to show up, not the first person to show up. When’s the last time you found someone who seemed panicked attractive?

    4. It’s okay to dine alone.

    Many people are afraid to do “couple” things alone. Try going to a play by yourself. You can really have a good time just enjoying your own company.

    Take action toward your dreams, but then step back and let those conditions manifest. Enjoy life and give yourself what you need instead of waiting for someone to give it to you. Meet each day with gratitude and joy in what you do have, and what you wish for will find its way to you.

    Love image via Shutterstock