Tiny Buddha

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  • Acknowledging That We’re Not Okay is the Only Way to Make Things Better

    Acknowledging That We’re Not Okay is the Only Way to Make Things Better

    “Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your own understanding.” ~Khalil Gibran

    There was a time in my life where I felt like everything needed to seem okay.

    I had trouble achieving emotional closeness in my relationships, I was unsatisfied in my career, and I struggled with at times severe anxiety and depression. But I was always “okay,” and actually went great lengths to hide any sign that I wasn’t.

    I kept myself busy to avoid seeming “lame” by having nothing to do, or perhaps to avoid the feelings that would come up if I had nothing to do. If I felt insecure or dissatisfied with something, I’d simply lie and try to cover it up rather than ever acknowledge there was a problem.

    Feeling alone and not heard in my friendships? Well, everyone else seems to be fine, so I’ll just pretend I’m fine too. Uncomfortable feelings? Push them down and ignore them, always. And if someone did something to hurt or offend me, I never said anything, because I wasn’t able to stand up for myself or set boundaries.

    I’m still trying to understand the origin of these feelings, but for me, it was dealing with generations of family trauma and hurt, as well as realizing that I’m bisexual. It was also receiving the message, implicitly and sometimes explicitly, that as a woman, it wasn’t okay for me to speak up and stand up for myself.

    Essentially, at some point, I came to believe that my real feelings weren’t acceptable.

    And the reality is, it was incredibly lonely. This perception left me unable to truly connect with anyone, because I felt as though they wouldn’t like the real me. But everyone else seemed like they were fine, so I pushed down who I was and my own personality to be who I thought I should be to fit in.

    I think we all struggle with this to some degree. Everyone has weird habits and secrets they keep to themselves. But for some of us, we feel like something is fundamentally wrong with us, as though if people saw our real selves, they wouldn’t like us. And so we hide it, and act in ways that we think we “should” act to seem like everyone else.

    The problem with this is that it makes life a lot more complicated when you have to suppress your own reaction or feelings, think about it, and then do what you assume other people would do in your situation.

    I always tried to hide and minimize any discomfort, pretend I felt more comfortable in my relationships than I did and was happier with my life than I was. Not that the people around me weren’t wonderful people, but I didn’t ever feel that I belonged or was known.

    In fact, in my early twenties, I had everything I could possibly want—a college degree, my own place, a relationship, great friends, and a job with a prestigious company. And I wasn’t happy. Or perhaps there was a part of me that was unfulfilled. Everything in my life was great, but I simply didn’t feel seen.

    The problem with always being “okay” is that at some point you just can’t do it anymore. And unsurprisingly, there came a point when my life fell apart.

    I experienced unemployment, a series of failed romantic relationships, and health issues, including disordered eating. In many ways, my life is still “apart.” Making changes has involved a lot of yoga, meditation, and emotional work, and even some solo traveling. It has been difficult and painful, and I have lost relationships.

    But the truth is that this previous “me” was like a house of cards, or perhaps a house with a cracked foundation. I pushed a lot of things down, I never stood up for myself or expressed my real feelings or needs, or even had any idea what those were—and that simply wasn’t a sustainable way to live.

    The most important step I took, and that I believe anyone can take, is finally stopping and recognizing when things are not okay. We can’t fix what we won’t acknowledge, and it is impossible to make changes if we refuse to admit something is wrong.

    Had life not presented me with the chaos it did, I would have continued to push my way along, shoving down any unwanted feelings and avoiding addressing them but also avoiding the growth, connection, and happiness that comes from actually facing my fears and emotions, and working through them with other people.

    Before, I had operated from the clearly faulty assumptions that any differences or unique qualities I had, such as my sensitivity and introverted, empathic nature—or, you know, things that make me a human being—were shameful and bad and must be covered up, that I was “too sensitive,” and that being assertive was definitely taboo. And above all, I must never admit it if I needed help. So I just went with what life gave me and tried my best to fit in.

    I’m learning to sit with difficult feelings and situations and trying to understand them instead of constantly running away from them.

    I am also working on communicating with people when they upset me. Sometimes they don’t have any idea, and promise to make sure it doesn’t happen again. But if they don’t care, that is something I need to know too. And instead of giving in to my insatiable need to fit in and be like everyone else, I’m trying to just be honest and be myself.

    Finally, instead of running, I’m trying to acknowledge when life isn’t good. Because acknowledging this, and understanding what uncomfortable feelings have to teach me, is the only way to actually make anything better.

  • Moving Through Grief: I’m Strong Because I Feel It All

    Moving Through Grief: I’m Strong Because I Feel It All

    “Grief is the last act of love we have to give to those we loved. Where there is deep grief, there was great love.” ~Unknown

    It’s been almost six months now. Half of a year without my brother and the grief still visits. I’m pretty sure grief doesn’t actually go away; its visits just get further and further apart.

    People continue to ask me how I am so “strong” through all of this, mistaking my happy moments as the full picture.

    I continue to tell them strength comes because I feel it all.

    The story in itself is my therapy, my chance to relive the amazing memories, my chance to show you the waves of grief I ride.

    The last thing I told my conscious brother was “But I believe in miracles, I really do.”

    To be fair, the last thing I really told him was a travel story about me using a Squatty Potty in Thailand, in hopes that humor would bring him back to responsiveness.

    The thing is, I really did believe a miracle was possible, or at least I wanted to believe. Surely it wasn’t his time to go. The all-divine higher power wouldn’t take away my big brother, my role model, my mom’s baby boy. It simply wasn’t time.

    The tumor on his spine seemed to disagree with me, though.

    My brother is gone now, and there is a human-sized hole in the universe that I am living in, and yet I survive; in fact, I am thriving in this life that I have now.

    But let’s back up a little, because I can’t just tell you about how I move through this season of grief without totally and completely honoring the human my brother was. He called me his little buddy, and though my oldest brother was the babysitter, Kirk always whispered into my ear that he was the real one in charge.

    He liked Dungeon and Dragons, donuts, finishing a great book, and writing and doodling in a brown journal probably made of suede or something cool like that. He loved to flip me upside-down or hold me down and tickle me until I was completely sure I would pee my pants. He would say things that didn’t make any sense to me until later when I would sit and contemplate in stillness.

    Something about Kirk’s soul was so playful but inspired me to be still and live in the presence that I have. He did things like build houses out of mud for sustainability and turn medians into produce farms. He took killer photos and made clay statues that I used to think would move in the night and haunt me.

    Kirk told me to “try everything once, unless that one thing will kill you, then skip that one.” Which is why you can catch me building a business that makes zero sense to who I am, traveling to foreign countries when I should probably be building a 401K or something else adults do. But when there’s a human-size hole in your universe, you do things for joy. Maybe it’s to honor them; maybe it’s because you live life to the fullest possible amount there can ever be. Either way, I’ll keep moving only for things that light my soul on fire.

    And then there was the cancer.

    You know how if you endure something just the right amount, it kind of becomes your normal? Repetitive chaos in your life has a way of doing that. And after watching my grandma battle cancer and win, my mom battle cancer and win, and Kirk beating it over and over again, it felt like the norm. Like it was just a thing that plagued my family, but we always moved out of it.

    Everyone handles something like this differently; personally, I’m that “ray of sunshine, glass half full and hey, I’ll help you with your glass too” kind of girl. Sunshine and cancer don’t blend well together. I got really good at smiling, cheering people up, and ignoring the invader in our lives.

    When I opened my phone and received the text that read, “He took a turn for the worse,” my soul didn’t believe it. I hopped on a plane, believing my sunshine would be enough to stop this spiral.

    My sunshine was not enough to bring him back to life.

    My sunshine was dimmed to its darkest.

    My glass was tipped over.

    Grief overwhelmed my soul. Gut wrenching, unexplainable, dynamic grief.

    It has been almost six months now since this hole was created in my universe, and every day someone asks me how I am so “strong” or “positive.” I will tell you exactly how.

    When I’m mad, I get mad. I allow myself to hear why I am mad because I know answers are on the other side of that. I don’t place my anger on anyone or anything. I just let it out as it is, even if it doesn’t make any sense.

    When I’m sad, I get sad. Even if that means I cry in my car because I walked past someone eating a flavor of ice cream that he enjoyed. Even if that means crying on my birthday because I realized it was the first year I wouldn’t hear from him. Even if that means I cry for no other reason besides missing my brother. I let it flow because I am alive and I can feel.

    And when I’m happy, you best believe I’m happier than a three-year-old in between meltdowns. Because of all the human emotions that I get to endure, the one he would want me to amplify the most is wild, epic, unleashed happiness.

    They say grief is like waves, and I honestly couldn’t explain it any more eloquently than that. As a professional beachgoer, the thing I can tell you about waves is that they have two extremes: If you work with the waves, they are flowing and forgiving; if you fight against them, they will pull you under to the depths.

    This is how you move with grace through grief. The fight creates a deep abyss of suffering; the flow creates a space for forgiveness. I’m not saying there won’t be pain; there will be deafening pain to endure on this ride. And on the other side of that pain is forgiving and wild happiness that I like to think our lost pieces are sending to us. This is how I am strong through my grief.

    I am mad, sad, and happy sometimes all in one day. I feel pain and yet I live so passionately, exactly the way my brother would want me to. I am not strong because I am positive; I am strong because I feel it all. Strength hides in the depth of every emotion. Tap into each flow.

  • How to Recover from Heartbreak and Feel Whole Again

    How to Recover from Heartbreak and Feel Whole Again

    “Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place.” ~Iain Thomas

    A deep heaviness and uneasiness began to pulsate throughout my body. Warm, salty tears streamed down my face at all hours of the day. It felt like all the best parts of me were gone and would never return.

    Heartache can be one of the hardest things to overcome in life. I never wanted to be one of those girls who let guys determine how they feel. But when my first serious relationship ended when I was twenty-seven, I was beyond devastated.

    It took me years to overcome my breakup with Tom because he was my first real love. I’m slowly starting to view the despair I experienced as a gift because it’s shaped the person I’m becoming. More importantly, it has taught me to never fear or take advantage of love.

    If you’re struggling to overcome heartache, perhaps some of my lessons may be useful to you. Here’s what helped me on my journey to becoming whole again.

    1. Allow yourself to feel all your feelings.  

    Although it may be tempting to numb your feelings, if they aren’t addressed, chances are they will catch up to you.

    My relationship blindsided me when it ended because I didn’t see it coming. I felt like I was going through the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Only, strangely enough, it felt almost worse than most deaths I grieved because in this relationship there was never a clear goodbye or any closure.

    It took me years to go through all of these stages. For a good part of it, I was stuck in denial and sadness.

    My breakup with Tom taught me that it’s okay to feel things that are uncomfortable because life isn’t always pleasant. It may be hard, but try to allow yourself to experience whatever feelings come up.

    I had to strip my emotions down to feel totally raw and vulnerable. If I felt sad and allowed myself to cry, my body felt so much better afterward because I was able to release all the stress and tension that I’d held in for so long. When I felt anger rising in the pit of my stomach, I’d go for a run to burn off that steam.

    Whatever it is that you’re feeling, allow it to come and go like waves instead of pretending it doesn’t exist or fighting it.

    2. Cut off contact with your ex so that you are able to heal. 

    One of the reasons it took me so long to get over Tom was because we were still in touch with each other via text. Even though we weren’t dating, deep down I had this romantic notion that we would get back together eventually.

    When I would date other guys, I wasn’t emotionally invested in them because part of me that held onto hope that Tom and I could still save our relationship and bring it back to what it was during the first year we dated. The truth was that over the years we both changed and grew apart instead of growing together.

    Although it was hard to end contact with Tom, I knew that in order to get over him I had to stop relying on him emotionally. This was the scariest part. Tom was part of my life for five years and knew all of me—the good, the bad, and the ugly. I was terrified to be alone and have him out of my life.

    I’m not going to lie, I may have texted him more than a few times after promising myself not to contact him. However, eventually, as time passed without contact, I was able to stay strong. I had to stand on my own and face my fears in order to get back to a healthy emotional state.

    It’s different for everybody, but I realized that no matter how much time has passed a part of me will always love my ex. And that’s okay. Because now I’m no longer in love with him, largely because I gave myself the space I needed to finish healing—which means I’ll be able to pursue a relationship with someone else in the future.

    3. Have a good tribe of people to talk to.

    No one is an island. Admitting that you are going through a hard time and finding friends and family who are willing to listen to your struggles can make a world of a difference.

    At the time of my breakup, my best friend was going through something similar. It was helpful to share our experiences with each other since it made us both feel less alone. I was lucky to have my mom to talk to as well. It really was beneficial to get her advice, as she had many years of experience to share.

    If you find yourself talking about your breakup excessively, it may be good to contact a counselor. Since my breakup happened during my last semester of graduate school,  I decided to take advantage of speaking with a counselor, as they were free to students.

    Initially, I had mixed feelings but can say that this assisted me greatly in being able to finish my last semester of school. It also felt good to talk about my feelings to someone who didn’t have a biased view and wouldn’t judge my thoughts.

    4. Don’t compare yourself to others.

    Remember my best friend I told you about who was going through a breakup? She ended up dating someone a month afterward. Eventually, they got married.

    It has taken me about two years to feel ready to date again. Everyone goes through breakups differently, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

    There are so many different factors involved in recovering from a painful breakup. Maybe your relationship was over way before it officially ended. Maybe you didn’t get any closure after your breakup, or it was your first love you lost.

    In order to allow myself to heal, I had to stop comparing myself to others. I also decided to get off of social media for a month.

    Yes, I was happy for my friends who were dating, getting married, and having kids. However, being bombarded with joyful couples and babies was just too much. I just knew that it was not the best time for me to be flooded with relationship pictures. It allowed me to spend more time with myself and hit the reset button.

    5. Give yourself the time you need before jumping into a new relationship.

    Initially, I went on a bunch of dates, sometimes two in one day. Yes, it distracted me from what I was feeling, but it wasn’t healthy. Emotionally, it became exhausting.

    It was too early in the game to date, and all I could think about was my ex. Whenever I went on a date, I would start comparing the guy to Tom, and that’s not a good way to jump back on the dating horse.

    Take the time you need to feel whole again before dating. I finally told myself that it’s alright to have high standards about what I’m looking for in a relationship. Most importantly, I learned to enjoy being single.

    6. Take good care of yourself.

    Self-care was never something I was good at. I always cared more about others and never made time for myself. I felt incredibly lost after my breakup because I no longer had Tom to care about.

    Without anyone else to focus on, I started to pay more attention to my own needs and wants. It was also an incentive to treat myself to certain services or activities I normally would not even consider such as getting monthly massages and participating in yoga classes regularly.

    I stopped saying yes to everyone else just to please them and started saying yes to myself. I travelled to Peru, Iceland, and Thailand. I took a new job and finally felt free.

    Go on that vacation you have been waiting for. Take that cooking class you have been putting off. Have a girls’ or guys’ weekend.

    Now is the time to focus on yourself. Enjoy it while you’re single because you never know when you’ll have as much time alone to discover your interests and passions.

    7. Don’t stop appreciating the beauty in all that surrounds you.

    There is joy all around us. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget that, especially when you’re going through something tough like a breakup.

    I started to become engaged more in my surroundings, and it has made a big difference.

    I was able to connect to my friends and family on a deeper level and really value these relationships. I started a gratitude journal, which helped me appreciate the little gifts we are given each day. Even something as simple as smiling at others in the street can be a beautiful act and make us feel more connected to those around us.

    — 

    It took me years to pick up all of the broken pieces and rebuild myself. These seven tips helped me heal from an incredibly painful time in my life. Slowly, my heart started to mend and refill with self-love.

    I know I will always love Tom, but now I’m able to continue to go on with my life without feeling trapped or in limbo. Sometimes the past will unexpectedly come up and a flood of sadness will hit me. I allow myself to feel this and then let it go just as fast as it came.

    I’m grateful for the person I have become due to my breakup. It has allowed me to realize how rare and wonderful it is to find love. I’ve also learned to become comfortable in solitude and enjoy time alone.

    It’s been quite a process, but now my heart is open to love again. Even though you may experience a deep pain and feel broken and angry, know what there is still beauty out in this world for us to experience on a daily basis. And know that through this experience you can become a stronger version of yourself.

  • 5 Psychological Strategies to Ease the Stress of Perfectionism

    5 Psychological Strategies to Ease the Stress of Perfectionism

    “Striving for excellence motivates you, striving for perfection is demoralizing.” ~Harriet Braiker

    The last three months I’ve been trying an experiment. It’s something that I’ve never done before, and in a certain way, it’s been a huge challenge. However, in other ways, it’s been an enormous stress relief, and I would say a largely successful effort.

    What I’ve done seems to go against conventional wisdom, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a wise choice.

    So what exactly is this challenge? Well, I have actively gone out of my way to be average.

    Yep, sounds a little weird, doesn’t it? But hear me out.

    Over the past year, I’ve become more aware than ever of how much unconscious stress I put on myself to be above average. I’ve always known I have a type-A personality, but I didn’t know to what extent this was doing me harm. A large part of this realization came from journaling my dreams and discussing them with a psychotherapist, and another part came about through a mindfulness practice.

    So for six months, whenever I felt like relaxing, and the little voice in my head would pop up and tell me I could be doing more in this moment, I would ignore it. I would decide to watch that extra episode on Netflix. I would choose to sleep in the extra fifteen minutes. I would leave the little bit of extra work until tomorrow.

    What came out of this was unexpected. The more I ignored the voice, the more loud and aggressive it became.

    Coming into contact with this part of myself ultimately did three things.

    Firstly, it showed me that I had an issue with perfectionism that I wasn’t entirely aware of. Secondly, it showed me just how tricky and persuasive the little voice of perfectionism could be. And finally, and most importantly, it taught me how overcoming that perfectionist tendency could lead to less stress, more productivity, and greater well-being.

    So, the moment of truth. How do you know you’re a perfectionist?

    • You often feel weighed down by fear of your goals not succeeding
    • You’re constantly looking for the ‘right’ moment to do something
    • You have a persistent sense of dissatisfaction with what you’ve achieved
    • You obsess over small mistakes that have little impact on the big picture
    • You neglect self-care in favor of achievements

    I came up with five psychological strategies to overcome this perfectionism. This has allowed me to take steps toward accepting the average parts of myself, and it’s helped me let go of a shocking amount of hidden stress.

    I’ve decided to share these steps with you here so you can begin to accept who and where you are, and enjoy the journey a little more.

    1. Rethink what it means to be average.

    In our society, we often consider anything less than greatness to be failure. That’s not an exaggeration; it’s just the reality of our skewed notions of achievement that have failed to account for larger and more interconnected societies in which it’s increasingly difficult to stand out.

    When we hear the terms “average” or “mediocre” we consider them dirty words, although they’re supposed to denote the middle of the pack. If you are average at something, that shouldn’t have any correlation whatsoever to your self-worth. Most people are average at most things for most of their lives. Does that mean that most people should feel bad about themselves?

    Accepting the ways in which you are average doesn’t mean you can’t strive to achieve greatness in some areas of your life. All it means is that the desire to excel doesn’t need to be driven by the feeling that you are incomplete. It can be out of the love of competing with your past self, the need to serve your community, or even just the enjoyment of a challenge in the present moment.

    2. Challenge the all-or-nothing fallacy.

    Perfectionism is a direct result of the all-or-nothing fallacy, also known as black-and-white thinking. When we believe that our value is completely tied to our achievements, for example, we cannot help but obsessively strive to do everything the right way, because any mistake would undermine our entire self-worth.

    We can also see this when we look for the one perfect moment to get started on something, when we put all our efforts into one project and neglect our health, and most toxically, when we try to evaluate our life against the over-generalized boxes of success or failure.

    When you see this type of thinking emerge in your psyche, challenge it, and replace it with more nuanced explanations.

    For example, I used to believe that I was either being productive or lazy. When I was being productive I wasn’t being lazy, and when I wasn’t being productive I was being lazy. I’ve started to challenge that idea with the more nuanced explanation that breaks are sometimes lazy and sometimes productive; they serve many purposes. They can be reinvigorating, rewarding, and sometimes need no justification.

    3. Become friends with what you don’t know.

    Another key trait of perfectionism that I saw in myself is a strong desire to control outcomes. We have this tendency partly because we have a heightened fear of things not going the way we want or expect.

    In part, this is because perfectionism creates stress, and when we are stressed we start to become more susceptible to cognitive biases. For example, we may believe that if things don’t go the way we anticipate, everything will fall apart, we will lose out on opportunities, or we will be criticized by others.

    One way we can counteract this attitude is by becoming more comfortable with the unknown. You can only ever influence a certain amount of any situation you’re in, whether that’s work, money, or relationships.

    I have become more comfortable with the unknown by journaling about my fears over time. By seeking out counterexamples of when your fears haven’t been true (and they often aren’t), you can see how worries about the future are exaggerated by the brain, and you can start to gain more control over your emotions.

    It may also help to practice setting a wide range of goals, with varied levels of difficulty. Meeting the easier goals should fulfill your need to be in control and achieve, and working toward the more difficult goals will simply be a challenge to be creative, go above and beyond, and enjoy the uncertainty of things that are out of your control.

    4. Become friends with what you don’t love.

    Likewise, perfectionism is largely tied to the relationship you have with what you don’t accept about yourself.

    You probably know that acceptance is at the root of love. It’s therefore not surprising that people often advise you to love yourself when you’re dealing with internal conflict. Well, it sounds simple, but it’s never that easy, unfortunately. So I’m going to propose something more manageable: become friends with what you don’t love.

    If there are parts of yourself or your experience that you can’t accept or bring yourself to love, just befriend them. Ask what purpose the things you don’t like serve; become familiar with them the way you would a friend.

    Ease into the changing relationship you have with these harder-to-accept parts of yourself, and over time you’ll see a shift in your perspective that calms your anxiety around them.

    For example, I used to have an antagonistic relationship with my anxiety. The fact that I wasn’t always cool, calm, and collected, was something I found hard to accept, and it created internal conflict and (obviously) more anxiety. When I was able to see that anxiety was just a part of my brain was trying to help me, I was able to accept it. And over time I even started to appreciate this quirky part of myself.

    5. Reassess how you measure your success.

    If your perfectionism is driven by the belief that you’re not successful enough, then it’s not necessarily you that needs to change. It could be that the way you’re measuring success needs to be reassessed.

    For example, it’s common that we compare ourselves to others, and while we’re often told to focus on ourselves, making social comparisons in specific situations—such as workplace evaluations or in competitive sports—does have some (albeit limited) utility. If we didn’t make these comparisons, it would be difficult to see how we were improving and in what roles we could most help the group.

    When you start to generalize this idea to the rest of your life, however, that’s when it becomes a problem. If you start to tell yourself that so-and-so’s life is better than yours or that he or she is more successful than you, that’s almost always a generalization. What makes a life better? What does success mean? Are we talking about financial achievements? Free time? Deep relationships? Take a closer look at how success could be more effectively defined in your life.

    My own definition of success used to be based on how well I compared to people in my life in standardized measures (money, relationships, novel experiences etc.) Now I see success as how well I’m able to find meaning in the present moment, stay motivated for the future, and spend my time working on something that helps me, the people I love, and the rest of the world.

    All of the elements of my definition may not be relevant to anyone else, but because they are more fluid and flexible, and can grow with my personality, they prevent me from falling into the habit of perfectionism.

    To bring this all full circle, consider this: You can be average in one area and successful in another. This doesn’t mean you don’t have value, are not worthy or love or respect, and don’t deserve some down time every once in a while.

    Being average is normal, and it’s not an indicator of worth. You have inherent value just as you are. And if you should want to obsess about a project or be a little bit of a perfectionist every now and then, that’s fine. But be driven by the love of the creative process itself, not the anxiety that you can never do enough.

    What experience have you had with perfectionism? Have you used any of these strategies to find more peace of mind? Let us know in the comments—we’d love to hear from you!

  • How to Release Emotions Stuck in Your Body and Let Go of the Pain

    How to Release Emotions Stuck in Your Body and Let Go of the Pain

    “The human mind is a relational and embodied process that regulates the flow of energy and information.” ~Daniel J. Siegel

    We are emotional creatures, and we were born to express emotions freely and openly. Somewhere along the way, however, many of us learned to repress emotions, especially those deemed “negative,” in order to fit in, earn love, and be accepted. This was my experience.

    I grew up in a home where the motto was “Children are to be seen, not heard.” There was little emotional expression allowed, let alone accepted. No one was there to validate or help us process emotions in a healthy way. Anger was met with anger, fear went unacknowledged, and there was plenty of shame to go around.

    My parents didn’t model how to deal with difficult emotions, as they struggled with that themselves. When those emotions showed up, I often felt overwhelmed and inadequate, ashamed of my failure to be a “good girl.”

    I learned to bury my pain deep inside, feeling invisible, ashamed, angry, alone, and unable to ask for what I needed. Trying to hide the pain—from others and myself—I built walls, put on masks, and soldiered on. For better or worse.

    My pain was buried so deep, I didn’t realize it was there until I had my own children. Motherhood opened up old wounds, the house of cards fell apart, and I began to unravel.

    In my thirties, faced with growing angst and creeping depression—and motivated to be the best parent I could be to my children—I began to deal with repressed memories and old emotional residue that has left me suffering from C-PTSD, chronic back pain, sciatica, headaches, and anxiety.

    As a child, I hid from the emotional pain by delving into the world of books, music, and academics. As an adult, I realized I was strong enough to face it. I wasn’t a little child anymore; I didn’t have to hide. Now I was more mature and had the resources I needed to finally face the pain that used to overwhelm my young brain—and begin to heal it.

    The truth is, we all hide our emotions occasionally. We pretend, avoid, and deny uncomfortable emotions in an effort of self-preservation, as a defense mechanism.

    We do this most often with difficult emotions like shame, fear, or anger. When we experience events that emotionally overwhelm us and we’re unable to process what is happening, accept our emotions, and express them through our body and mind, we hide them deep inside us where others can’t see them. And we end up hiding them from ourselves too. Yet, they’re still there.

    The unresolved emotions get trapped in our body, where they build and fester, draining our energy, leading to burnout, emotional imbalance, and eventually disease. When we chronically repress emotions, we create toxicity in our body, mind, and heart.

    This unprocessed emotional energy is stored in our organs, muscles, and tissues. It leads to inflammation and chronic health problems, and it undermines our overall well-being.

    3 Steps to Processing Emotional Energy Stuck in Your Body

    The opposite of repression is expression. In order to process our emotional distress and move it through and out of our body so it doesn’t get stuck there, we need to learn to express our emotions in a healthy way, in the body and mind. But first, we need to learn to recognize and accept our feelings as they come and go.

    Step 1: Recognize (self-awareness)

    The challenge is to recognize the emotion and feel it in your body. This is where mindfulness comes in. The goal is to notice what is happening within our body, accept it, and feel it fully, without judgment.

    If you’ve ever come across Tara Brach’s teachings on radical acceptance, the practice of R.A.I.N. should sound familiar. R.A.I.N. stands for recognize, allow, investigate, and nourish (with self-compassion), and it “directly de-conditions the habitual ways in which you resist your moment-to-moment experience,” according to Brach.

    Buddhist teachings tell us that human suffering is caused by aversion and resistance to what is happening. Acceptance is liberating, and the practice of R.A.I.N. teaches us to accept our moment-to-moment experience instead of running from it. It teaches us to face any difficulty head-on, with self-compassion and the understanding that it will eventually pass.

    We have to feel it to heal it—we have to fully experience the emotion in order to process and integrate it into our experience.

    But we must feel it in the body; this is the critical point. As Brach writes, “If the process of including difficult emotions in awareness stops at the level of cognitive understanding without a fully embodied experience, the genuine acceptance, insight, and inner freedom that are the essence of true healing will not be complete.”

    Practice mindfulness to get better at recognizing your feelings and observing the bodily sensations connected to those feelings as they come and go throughout the day. Offer yourself self-compassion as you go through more difficult emotions.

    PRACTICE:

    Sit still for a few minutes with your eyes closed. Listen to your body and become curious.

    What does your body feel like right now? Is there any pressure or tingling? Where? Do you feel heavy, hot, contracted, warm, or cold? What is the texture, weight, and shape of the sensations you notice in your body? What emotions are those sensations connected to? Can you breathe into the parts that call your attention? What do those parts of your body want to tell you? What do they want?

    Step 2: Respond (self-expression)

    Emotions need to be expressed to be processed. The goal is to move the energy of emotion through and out the body so we can let it go.

    This self-expression must be authentic and embodied. Remember, true healing occurs when body and mind integrate, so express the emotion on the bodily level first and foremost.

    Still sitting, ask yourself: What does this emotion you just connected with need from you? What feels right in this moment? What do you need?

    Maybe you feel the need to cry, scream into a pillow, go for a swim, walk or run, dance it out, hit a punching bag, do some gardening, tapping, yoga or TRE, paint your feelings out, or simply breathe deeply while facing the sun—whatever feels cathartic in that moment, do it.

    You will free the poisonous emotion that you carried within yourself and free yourself from its shackles.

    Follow this step with one of the best forms of emotional healing—journaling. Writing can be a very therapeutic experience of self-discovery, reconnecting with our true self, and processing our deepest feelings and emotions.

    When we write, we give our internal world a voice. We process and make sense of what is happening within us and around us. And we gain perspective; by writing about our fears and hurts, we can look at them from a distance, detach from their grip, and eventually let them go. That release can be truly healing.

    Practice journaling every day to get better at expressing and processing your feelings. Don’t censor or judge yourself; let it all out, completely unfiltered. Over time, your journal will become a safe space for you to free yourself, get unstuck, and move forward.

    We often don’t have the time and space to process emotions in the moment, so make sure you allow yourself the space to feel the emotions you’ve had through the day and journal about it at the end of each day.

    WRITING PROMPT

    What is happening in your life right now that you wish you could change? What is the biggest source of frustration? As you write, notice the sensations in your body. Tune into the parts that are numb, in pain, or frozen. What are they trying to tell you? What needs healing, attention, or change?

    Step 3: Reset (self-care)

    If we’ve habitually neglected our bodies and ignored our emotions, we have to re-dedicate ourselves to body-mind self-care and indulge in healing habits that will bring in the feeling of well-being.

    The goal is to realign back with your authentic self, reset back to a relaxed and open state, and come back into wellness and balance.

    Take time to slow down and be alone, get out into nature, make art, listen to music while you cook your favorite dinner, meditate to cleanse your mind and relax your body, or take a bubble bath or a nap to restore. Take good care of yourself to awaken to life’s joy and simple pleasures that will nourish your body, mind, and soul.

    My Own Healing Journey

    When I decided to take charge of my own healing, I had no idea where to start. A lifelong bookworm, I quickly discovered writing to be therapeutic. It became my refuge, a place where I could connect with my inner world in an authentic way. Writing became my most trusted way of processing emotions I didn’t even know I harbored inside since childhood. I discovered shame, anger, fear, grief, and eventually, self-compassion.

    With mindfulness, I learned to allow my pain to surface, if only for a brief time, then surround it with tender love and care. My pain was a part of me, and I was done running from it; it was time I faced it.

    I learned to sense into my body, little by little, as the anxiety of reconnecting with my physical sensations was very powerful. But I realized the only way out was through—through the body—so in order to move the stuck emotions that had a tight grip over me for decades, I had to allow and accept them; I had to feel the anger, the shame, the grief.

    Slowly, I learned to give my inner child the support she never received. I listened to and validated her pain—and helped her let go of it. I learned to love and accept her. And I finally learned to love and accept myself.

    Healing is a taxing process. Remember to give yourself all the care and compassion you would give to a friend doing this hard work. Offer yourself understanding, love, and care. This is hard work, and you are doing the best you can with what you’ve got.

    Trapped emotions get in our way. They sabotage our efforts to create the life we want and make us miserable along the way. Freeing this emotional energy stuck in our bodies can shift our lives in a positive way. It’s healing and liberating. And you are worth it!

  • What to Do If You’re Tired of Feeling Half-Alive

    What to Do If You’re Tired of Feeling Half-Alive

    “Who you are is what you settle for, you know?” ~Janis Joplin

    I spent several years in a state of light depression without noticing.

    Why was it only “light”? Because I was functional: I went to work every morning, I managed to feed myself (mostly with convenience food, but still). My house was reasonably livable, though far from sparkling clean. And I wasn’t particularly sad, nor was I ever even remotely suicidal. It was simply like my life had been wrapped in a thick layer of cotton wool, with nothing much ever getting through to me.

    Why didn’t I notice? Because I told myself I liked it this way. I was honestly convinced that I was happy going to work every day, coming home in the evening. and then sitting down to read or play a computer game.

    I’d kicked my friends out of my life, and any required travel was an inconvenience, even if it was to see my family. I preferred being alone, and if it hadn’t been for my online gaming friends, I would have had no social contact at all.

    I’d become highly proficient at appearing “normal” to my colleagues at work. I even invented friends I was seeing at evenings or weekends so they wouldn’t think I was a loner. To be honest, I can’t even remember how I justified this to myself; in hindsight, it seems like I refused to even think about it. Denial can be one of the symptoms of depression, and I was very good at lying to myself.

    The Awakening

    There was an outward reason for my isolation, and that’s a sum of money I was paying back from a near-bankruptcy years earlier. I simply didn’t have the cash for a lavish wardrobe or nights out on the town because every cent I earned went into repayments. But that’s only half the truth—if I’d wanted to see friends, I could have met them for home-cooked dinners, after all.

    The truth is that I used my financial situation as an excuse, yet another reason not to see the depression that had swallowed me whole. Thankfully, the shell began to crack when this reason/excuse disappeared: I had finally paid back all my dues and began thinking about leaving behind my soul-eating, high-pressure job and moving back to the place where my soul feels at home: the West (of Ireland).

    I found a work-from-home role and made the big move across the country. I now had much less money every month, but you can’t possibly put a price tag on the quality of life in the absence of stress. I began to sleep better, eat better, take an interest in my environment again—it was like my entire being was breathing a slow, deep sigh of relief.

    In the following months, I re-connected with my friends, started dancing again (something I’d loved to do all my life, but “forgotten about” during the dark years), and, feeling rested for the first time in years, got curious about trying out new things.

    Healing Through Passion

    It took a lot of time. I needed to heal physically as well as psychologically; my body was in the worst shape it had ever been in, not just because of the pounds I’d piled on from all the junk food, but also from spending the last years in a sitting position, apart from walking to the car and back.

    I slept. I fell in love with whole, gorgeous foods. I took up mindfulness meditation. Then I slowly, very gradually started exercising, and when I say “slowly,” I mean five minutes of stretching on some days and nothing else.

    These first few months were mostly about well-being, feeling good and comfortable, which astonished me because I hadn’t even realized how long these feelings had been absent.

    As the healing progressed, my emotions returned. I’d been numb for years, but now I remembered that I’d always been a highly sensitive and highly emotional person. There were some very dark weeks to get through, in which I mourned all the wasted time and some actions I was ashamed of, such as not being there for my best friend when she needed me. Gradually, I made it through the swamp, and on the other side, I re-discovered my long lost enthusiasm.

    I have some rather unusual interests, and now I threw myself into them. I signed up for training in traditional archery and historical sword fighting. I kept exercising and dancing every day. Suddenly, I began to experience levels of happiness the likes of which I wouldn’t have thought possible a year before.

    What I’ve Learned

    I wish I could tell you that I lived happily ever after, but that’s just not how human lives work (and anyone who tells you differently is usually trying to sell you something). The point is not to be eternally joyful, in any case; it’s to experience the full spectrum of human emotions and to show up and sit with them as they occur.

    Striving for happiness and joy is a worthy pursuit, however. Like most things, it’s a habit that can be cultivated. I’ve learned that one shortcut to happiness is passion, or rather, radically prioritizing your passion (or multiple passions).

    I know this isn’t something that’s encouraged in our society. We’re brought up to be responsible and put duty first; work for a living, pay the bills, be a good citizen. While I don’t debate that these things are important, I’ll humbly submit that we’ve got the priorities wrong. What good is making a living when you’re just going to exist and survive, rather than thrive?

    The lure of mediocrity is strong. I see it all around and it’s most pronounced in my own story. If settling were an art then I’d be its master; I was prepared to settle for such a reduced version of my own life, I find it barely recognizable even from the distance of a mere three years.

    The Pursuit Of Happiness

    The way to fight this is to remember what truly matters in life. Our own well-being, our loved ones, and that elusive state, happiness. To leap out of bed every morning, looking forward to doing things that light me up, is something I’ll never, ever take for granted again.

    In order to achieve this state, we need to radically and consistently fight against the current that threatens to pull us back into settling. Life isn’t meant to be “all right” or “not so bad.” It’s meant to be ravishing, beautiful, and filled with joy.

    Whenever I feel myself slipping, I pull myself back up by putting a passion front and center. It takes some courage to say “no” to anything else until my passions are looked after, scheduled, and happening. Only then will I look at social commitments and distractions. The only thing I consider with a comparable priority to passion is my work—but then, the work I do today is a passion, too.

    I certainly don’t know everything, but I do know this: If I don’t fall in love with life all over again at least once a week, then I’m doing it wrong. It may feel like constantly pedaling a bicycle up the hill, but boy is the view from the top worth the effort.

    How You Get There

    If you feel like you’re just getting through your days, take some time to discover what needs to be in place in your life for you to prioritize passion. For me, it was the job and where I lived, but what you need to do might look completely different.

    Take some time to “audit” every area of your life—work, finances, self, relationships, health—and find out where you need to make changes in order to accommodate your passion(s).

    You may not be able to do everything at once, and that’s fine. It took a long time for me to be ready for my radical downsizing. You may also need to accept that there are some things you can’t change any time soon—if, for example, you’d like to move but you need to stay where you are for your family. The point isn’t to change everything, but rather to change something.

    Make a realistic plan to put all your steps into practice, and set down a time period for them too. Get the support you need, be it from a professional coach or from friends or loved ones.

    Just be sure to insert passion today while working toward your plan. If all you do is to plan, you postpone your joy to the future and never achieve it in the present moment.

    It’s always possible to find pockets of time. Be ruthless with this! Cancel other commitments if necessary, because your well-being comes first, and being joyful also enables you to be a better partner, parent, friend, or co-worker to others.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    How Do You Keep Trying?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    The same can be true for you.

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

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

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

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

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

    How Do You Effect All This Change?

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

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

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

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

    Start meditating.

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

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

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

    Begin a gratitude journal.

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

    Volunteer or find a way to help someone.

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

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

    Get out there and exercise.

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

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

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

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

    Create a social support network.

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

    Write or scrapbook or create something.

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

    —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  • This Weekend I Fell Apart, and That’s Okay

    This Weekend I Fell Apart, and That’s Okay

    “Look for something positive each day, even if some days you have to look a little harder.” ~Unknown

    This weekend I hurt more than I have in a very long time.

    It all started on Friday, when my boyfriend and I headed out to spend the weekend with friends—two couples, both with babies in tow.

    I’ve been trying, unsuccessfully, to get pregnant since the start of the year, yet I didn’t anticipate that it would be emotionally taxing for me to be around two little families. I was just excited to see our friends, who live in the Bay Area, hours away from our home near LA.

    A little backstory: I’m less than three weeks away from my thirty-ninth birthday, which means I’m now in the category of “high-risk pregnancy,” if I’m even able to get pregnant at all.

    My boyfriend and I first discussed having a baby five years ago, but we kept pushing it off because our families live on opposite coasts, and neither of us was able to agree to live on the other’s coast full-time for the long term.

    We finally decided, at the beginning of this year, that I would be the one to visit my family—as often as I feel I need to, with our kid(s), for the foreseeable future—and we’d commit to staying in LA, which makes sense since we’re working toward a career in film.

    But biology doesn’t just fall in line because you finally get over your fears and decide to make a compromise. We’re both open to the idea of adoption, but there are other personal issues—that my fiercely private boyfriend would not want disclosed—that have complicated matters.

    So there I was on Friday with our friends and their adorable babies—one actually a toddler, since he recently turned two.

    We toasted our get-together around 5:00 with our first glass of wine, and the wine continued flowing throughout dinner. After, we all moved to the deck to partake in an at-home wine tasting.

    The ladies and I discussed my road to pregnancy, and though I was discouraged, for the most part I was fine—until I wasn’t.

    Having lost track of the amount of wine I was drinking, I eventually hit that emotional place I remember from my younger years, when alcohol eventually led to histrionics and tears. It is literally a depressant, after all, and generally not great to imbibe when you’re already feeling fragile.

    I don’t remember all the details of that night, but I know I cried about my fears about not being able to have a family (which, as I mentioned, is an issue complicated by many factors).

    I woke up at 4:00 in the morning and picked a fight with my boyfriend about our relationship. Then I woke at 8:00 with two things: a hangover and a shame-over. I was absolutely mortified.

    I’d gotten drunk, turned a fun night with friends into something heavy and emotional, and had caused my boyfriend a lot of pain and embarrassment. It gave me a little comfort to realize everyone had drunk too much. But I still felt deeply ashamed of having lost control.

    Ironically, I received an email that morning that I’d been waiting on for almost a month. My film mentor had just read the second draft of my first feature screenplay, and she said she was blown away by the massive improvement from the first draft.

    I had never in my life simultaneously felt immense pride and deep shame, but I did right then.

    Fortunately, the friend I cried to was extremely kind and empathetic. And no one judged me or put me down, as good friends never do.

    But that day was pretty rough for me, physically and emotionally. And the next day, it got worse.

    That night I noticed that a few people had commented on a meme I’d shared on Friday, using clipart with a hyper-sexualized female silhouette. They mentioned that it was demeaning to women to use what essentially appeared to be Barbie to represent the female form. One person called it “offensive.”

    Though there were only a few critical comments, juxtaposed against 12,000 shares, I immediately realized I agreed with them. As someone who once struggled with an eating disorder, I’d like to represent women as more than a busty, high-ponytailed caricature.

    This didn’t fully or accurately represent my values or the message I’d like to convey. And I didn’t like the idea of young girls seeing it and concluding, as I may have as an adolescent, that this was what a woman is supposed to look like, even if some women actually look like this. So I decided to take it down.

    With a mind still foggy I decided to write something on Facebook, as I wanted the community to know I felt I’d made an error in judgment. I didn’t want to just delete it. I want to make it clear I don’t agree with a society that puts pressure on women to be femme bots and suggests that our sexuality is our most valuable contribution.

    I mentioned in my post that some people had pointed out that the image was offensive, and I agreed that it was triggering—and the backlash was swift and harsh.

    In retrospect, I don’t think I accurately communicated why I decided to remove this image, since I didn’t address the cultural issue of how women are portrayed in the media and the fact that I’d like to be part of the solution, not the problem. But I’m not sure it would have mattered if I did, since I’d used the word “offensive.”

    I forgot that people often get offended by other people getting offended.

    Over the next day, hundreds of comments came in, many attacking me on a personal level.

    People called me spineless for catering to “snowflakes.” People said they lost respect for me and questioned my aptitude for even doing the work I do, since I clearly have no sense of conviction or belief in my own decisions. Even more alarming, many people mocked the idea of being “triggered,” and essentially belittled anyone with emotional or mental health issues.

    I felt misunderstood, judged, and condescended.

    I hid or deleted many of the worst comments and resisted the urge to defend myself, deciding instead to leave one clarifying comment a couple hours in. But I’m not going to lie; this affected me deeply.

    While on the one hand, I reminded myself that my power was in my response, and publicly, I only responded in one calm, clear comment, I also obsessively monitored the feed.

    By this time my boyfriend and I were at his parents’ house in Nevada, where we planned to stay for a few days, and I wasn’t even close to present. I didn’t want to delete this new post, since I believed I’d done the right thing, but it pained me to see so much vitriol in a space that I hold sacred.

    Then came another blow: I’d noticed a while back that since the start of the year, someone had been sharing every single challenge from my book Tiny Buddha’s 365 Tiny Love Challenges on Facebook. Though this person tagged my page, none of the posts included the book’s title or a link—and some people actually assumed she was writing these posts or getting them from my Facebook page.

    I’d emailed my publisher a few weeks back to ask their thoughts on this, and they told me they could send an email asking her to stop. At the time, this seemed warranted.

    Her Facebook friends didn’t see it that way. After she posted the letter from my publisher’s legal department, tagging my page, once again, the comments turned nasty.

    F— you, Tiny Buddha.

    You suck, Tiny Buddha.

    More like “Greedy Buddha.”

    Unbelievable! She should thank you for the free marketing!

    For a while, I felt completely numb. And I knew I was doing the “wrong” things by obsessively monitoring my phone and letting these comments get to me.

    I knew it wasn’t serving me to dwell in my self-righteousness and how wrong I believed it was for this woman, who enjoyed my work enough to share it, to like comments that attacked me on a personal level. But I did it anyways.

    I was angry with the people who were angry. I was triggered by the people who were triggered.

    And then something occurred to me: This whole weekend was an opportunity. It was a chance to practice some of the lessons that are much easier to practice when everything is going well.

    This weekend was a chance to remember that:

    I need compassion most when I think I deserve it the least.

    Initially, I beat myself up over several things this weekend: drinking to excess, exploding emotionally, hurting my boyfriend, choosing clipart that I wished I hadn’t chosen, letting my publisher speak for me instead of reaching out to the woman personally, and obsessing over the various challenges I was facing instead of being present.

    I told myself I shouldn’t have made any of those mistakes. I should have been beyond this. I was a fraud.

    Then I realized something: I was being as mean to myself as the people online. And not a single blow of self-flagellation was helping me move on. In fact, each self-judgmental thought cemented me further into the hole. Because telling myself I was sucking at life made it awfully hard to find the strength to do better.

    Every time I criticized myself, I weakened myself, and a weakened person is far less equipped to reframe difficult circumstances and respond wisely.

    The only way out was to cut myself some slack. I needed to stop fighting with myself and let go, as if melting into a hug from someone who had finally forgiven me. I needed my own love and compassion.

    So I drank too much and cried. I was hurting. It’s been a long journey toward starting a family, and it’s been hard. It’s okay to hurt.

    So I made mistakes in my work—who hasn’t? I owned them and publicly admitted them. What matters isn’t the fact that I messed up but that I acknowledged it and committed to doing better.

    I don’t have to be perfect. Sometimes I will make mistakes, some public, and sometimes I’ll make many that compound. The only way to stop the cycle is to stop obsessing about having done things wrong. The only way to move into the future is to fully accept the past. Once I did this, I felt freer and better able to be present.

    The approval that matters most is my own.

    It bothered me that people believed I removed the image because I needed approval from the “complainers,” as opposed to having made a decision based on my own beliefs and values.

    But ironically, once the flood of negative comments came in, I did start feeling a need for approval. I wanted people to understand and honor my positive intentions.

    It took me a day, but I was finally able to accept that some people were simply committed to judging me, and this wasn’t something to change; it was something to accept.

    It didn’t matter if some people derided me or questioned me if I felt in my heart I’d done the right thing.

    I eventually deleted the second post because I wanted to put an end to the negativity. There’s far too much of that on Facebook already. But I’m proud I waited and resisted the urge to remove all criticism immediately. For a recovering approval addict, allowing a public character assassination requires immense strength. And I give myself a lot of credit for that.

    It’s rarely personal.

    Intellectually, I knew this when people were insulting me in both places on Facebook.

    I knew that the people who were angry with me for catering to “snowflakes” were really projecting their feelings about what they perceive to be an oversensitive culture. It wasn’t just about this one image. It was about every time someone’s ever said they were offended and their complex feelings about what that means to them.

    I also knew that the people defending the woman who’d been sharing my book online were acting from a place of allegiance to their friend. They were more pro-her than anti-me. Many didn’t even have all the information—they didn’t realize she’d been sharing from a book. So really, I couldn’t take that personally either.

    This wasn’t immediately comforting to me because the attacks were so public, but when I was able to fully absorb this, it did give me some peace.

    Not everyone will see my side, and that’s okay.

    I believe one of our deepest desires is to feel understood—to know that other people get where we’re coming from and that they may even have done the same thing if they were in our shoes.

    I didn’t feel that way when people judged me personally based on the letter from my publisher’s legal department.

    I left a few comments on that post, trying my best to respond from a place of calm, but I know there are some people who will forever think I am greedy and soulless because I didn’t want my book’s content republished online.

    I’ve decided that this is okay. Not everyone has to get me, understand me, support me, be considerate of me, or treat me kindly—so long as I do those things for myself.

    Pain can be useful if you share it to help someone else.

    I decided to share this post for two reasons:

    First, I thought it would be cathartic for me. I felt ashamed for a lot of this weekend, and I wanted to be able to reframe this experience in a way that felt empowering. As I said when I first launched this site, when we recycle our pain into something useful for others, we’re able to turn shame into pride.

    And that brings me to the second reason: I thought it might be helpful for someone else to realize that even someone who runs a site like Tiny Buddha can fall into so many self-destructive traps.

    If you’ve ever drank too much and fallen apart emotionally, know that you’re not alone.

    If you’ve ever obsessed over comments online and allowed something as trivial as a Facebook feud to get the better of you, know that you’re not alone.

    If you’ve ever failed to apply what you know and regressed to the least evolved version of yourself, know that you’re not alone.

    And know that all of these things are okay. They don’t mean anything about you as a person. They don’t define you. And they certainly don’t have to dictate the future.

    This is what I needed to hear this weekend when I was despondent and numb, so today it’s my gift to you. I hope someone benefits from something in my experience, but I suppose no matter what, someone has—me.

  • “You’re Too Sensitive” Is a Lie

    “You’re Too Sensitive” Is a Lie

    “I used to dislike being sensitive. I thought it made me weak. But take away that single trait, and you take away the very essence of who I am. You take away my conscience, my ability to empathize, my intuition, my creativity, my deep appreciation of the little things, my vivid inner life, my keen awareness of others pain and my passion for it all. ~Unknown

    My phone rang and it was my boyfriend. I slipped out into the hall. “Hey you,” I answered. We’d been texting about getting together that night.

    “Why don’t you just come over to my place and I’ll cook?”

    “Hey there,” he replied. “I’d really rather go out. What about the Swan? I can meet you there at 7pm.”

    “Okay…” I hesitated, “That will work. I should probably get back to work, but see you tonight.”

    I didn’t really want to meet at the Swan, a pub near my house. I just wanted a quiet evening at home, but it felt stupid to argue about it.

    “What’s wrong with me?” I thought. “Why can’t I enjoy going out for dinner like a regular person?”

    I arrived at 7:03 pm and he was already there. We found a table in a quiet-ish area and sat down.

    The music was loud and there were what seemed like 100 different conversations happening at once. I was having a hard time concentrating on what my boyfriend was saying.

    He got up to go to the washroom.

    “My boyfriend’s taking me out for a nice meal,” I thought. “I should be grateful.”

    But the chair felt hard and my back felt sore.

    “Seriously, what’s wrong with me??” I thought. “I somehow find a way to complain about everything. Why can’t I just have a good time? Why can’t I focus on my boyfriend and the yummy food and enjoy myself? I really am spoiled…”

    My boyfriend returned and I ordered a second drink to numb the overwhelm I was feeling and the voices in my head.

    Whether to go out or stay in was a constant point of tension between us. He ran his own law office and so worked from home most days. He wanted to get out of the house in the evenings. I worked in an office and was introverted and sensitive, so at the end of the day I really just wanted a quiet evening at home.

    It wasn’t until months later when I found a Facebook group for highly sensitive people (HSPs) that I realized I wasn’t the only one who felt like this.

    As I scrolled through the posts I found a whole community of people who get overwhelmed by loud noises, fluorescent lighting, and more than one conversation happening at once.

    A whole community who can’t watch scary movies, who are very sensitive to other people’s emotions, and notice when others are upset even when they’re pretending to be fine.

    I realized that I wasn’t the only one who felt things deeply and who gets overwhelmed by cocktail parties and grocery stores.

    As I read through the posts I felt relief flood through my body. I finally understood that I wasn’t stupid or ungrateful or spoiled. I was just built differently. I was just highly sensitive, and so my needs are different than other people’s need.

    Like most HSPs, I like quiet. I like warm and soft lighting. I like hiding under the covers. I often can’t wait to get home to the quiet oasis that is my house at the end of the day.

    Now with the help of the HSP community and my therapist I’m learning to stop trying to get rid of my sensitivity and how to embrace it.

    If you think you might be highly sensitive, here are a few things you can do that might help:

    1. Take the HSP test.

    Taking the test and getting confirmation that I was highly sensitive helped me accept my sensitivity. If you’re highly sensitive that’s simply a fact and there’s nothing wrong with you.

    You can take the test here.

    2. Join an HSP community.

    Joining the Highly Sensitive People FB group was a real turning point for me in accepting my sensitivity. I didn’t post in the group for over a year but reading other people’s posts gave me confirmation that I wasn’t crazy.

    There’s nothing like knowing you’re not alone and others share the same struggles. Joining this group or another HSP community will bring you a sense of peace and acceptance of who you are.

    3. Embrace your sensitivity and protect yourself.

    I live alone in a quiet neighborhood. I only invite a couple of people over to my house at a time. I politely decline invitations to loud or overwhelming parties.

    If you’re highly sensitive you have to be insanely protective of your energy. HSPs are often amazing creatives or healers, but if you’re drained because you aren’t protecting your energy you won’t have much to give back.

    I know it can sometimes feel stupid to walk around the city with giant headphones playing white noise or declining an invitation to a friend’s party, but I guarantee you’ll be happier and healthier if you protect yourself.

    That boyfriend and I ended up breaking up for a number of reasons, but one of them was that he couldn’t accept my sensitivities.

    4. Ask for help from the people you trust.

    This might be the hardest one to do. Well, this and protecting yourself are both really difficult!!

    I sometimes dissociate if there’s loud music or even something as simple as a very intellectual conversation. The hardest but also best thing to do if this is starting is to tell the person I’m with what’s happening to me.

    I might say something like, “I want to stay in this conversation, but I’m starting to feel overwhelmed and am having a hard time connecting. Can we slow things down for a minute?”

    The more you can explain to the people you’re close to what’s happening, the more they can help you. I’m learning that most people actually want to help me when I’m overwhelmed but just don’t understand what it’s like or what they can do.

    The more you can say things like “I’m feeling overwhelmed. Can we just walk in silence for a minute?” or “Will you just hold my hand for a minute?” or “Can we just turn off the music for a little while?” the more the people who care about you can help.

    You’d be surprised, your non-HSP friends want to help you; they just have no idea what it’s like or how they can help.

    5. Do things that make you feel happy, safe, and protected.

    Figure out what you love and what makes you feel safe and prioritize those activities.

    This might include:

    • baths with candle light
    • hiding under the covers for as long as possible
    • walks alone in nature
    • canceling a coffee date and staying in
    • telling a friend you trust what it’s like to be highly sensitive
    • hanging out with other HSPs who totally get it!

    I’ve come along way from the days when I would say yes to invitations just to fit in, and my life has transformed into something more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.

    I quit my office job with bright lights and lots of other people’s emotions swirling around and went out on my own. I designed my business where I walk outside in nature while helping people out on the phone.

    Just yesterday I was out beside Lake Ontario watching a flock of swallows dip and dive and play. And I had this moment where I thought, “Is this really my life? Is this really what I get to do?”

    I’ve realized that the more I protect my energy, the more I can really give to the people I work with, and so I am more protective than ever.

    As a highly sensitive person, you have a special gift to share. As you learn to accept your sensitivity and protect your energy your life will change. You’ll become happier and healthier and have more to contribute.

    By protecting yourself you’re not being selfish or greedy or difficult; you’re actually being generous. The world needs your gifts and when you take care of yourself, you’ll be able to give more and make the impact on the world you were meant to make.

  • 5 Practices That Helped Me Stop Being a People-Pleaser

    5 Practices That Helped Me Stop Being a People-Pleaser

    “If you spend your life pleasing others, you spend your life.” ~Cheryl Richardson

    Looking back on my life, I came to realize that I spent quite a high amount of my precious time trying. Trying to be perfect. Trying to be appreciated and liked by everyone else around me. Trying to fit in with different groups of people so that I could feel accepted and approved of.

    I can recall many situations in my life when I did things I didn’t really want to do to comfort or please others. I was a master of people-pleasing and, to be honest, it wasn’t always because I wanted to make everyone happy.

    The truth is that I wanted people to like me. I expected them to give me the things I wasn’t giving myself: love, care, and attention.

    People-pleasing is an unhealthy behavior, a clear sign of low self-esteem. It is disempowering, inauthentic, and extremely time- and energy-consuming.

    Here are five simple practices that helped me stop being a people-pleaser.

    1. Allow myself to be me.

    I can recall I once told a guy I was dating that I wanted to join him for a football match when, in fact, I didn’t. I knew he loved football, so I thought he would see me as a right partner and like me more. Big mistake.

    If you’re also doing things you don’t want to do, hoping those things will strengthen your relationships, be careful with that. Be honest about what you like or dislike. Be real. Pretending and faking who you are and what you want will only work against you.

    Being myself got me married. The day I had the first dinner with my husband (as friends at that time), I had no expectations of getting involved in a romantic relationship. I didn’t care if he liked me, I didn’t try to please him in any way because, to me, he was just a friend, not “a marriage prospect.” No lies, no mask, no hidden agenda.

    He got to meet the honest, real me, and this was whom he eventually fell in love with. Authenticity is magnetic! Being genuine is a matter of choice, so I stopped explaining myself for what I want and for who I am.

    If you also feel like wearing a mask when among people, I want you to know it is okay to be you. Your perfect imperfections make you special and unique.

    Be your own kind of beauty. Stay true to your feelings, opinions, thoughts, and emotions. Live your own life, with no apologies and no regrets.

    “Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we’re supposed to be and embracing who we are.” ~ Brene Brown

    2. Detach from other people’s opinion of me.

    Did you know that the fear of public speaking comes first among all kinds of fears? Even the fear of death comes second! Most people don’t feel brave enough to show up in their vulnerability in front of others because they’re focusing more on what people might think about them than on the message they want to convey. I was there in the past, and whenever I had to hold a speech at work, it felt like torture.

    Seeking validation from others turns us into their prisoners. In reality, we can’t control what other people feel or think, but we are in charge of our own actions, feelings, and thoughts.

    When I know that what other people think of me does not define me, I set myself free from any judgment. What they see in me is their opinion. Some might perceive me as smart, funny, and talented. Others might think I’m an average public speaker or even a lousy one. To some, I might look pretty. To others, I might not. It’s all about their standards of beauty or intelligence, and it has nothing to do with me.

    I do the best I know and the best I can every day. I love and approve of myself as I am, and other people’s opinion or validation of me is neither required nor needed.

    If this rings a bell with you, please know you cannot please everyone, no matter how much you might try. Other people’s opinions of you are nothing but perception, filtered through their own lenses, expectations, or system of belief. Know you are worthy and beautiful, not because others think so, but because you decide to believe it.

    “When I seek your approval, I don’t approve of the me that’s seeking the approval.” ~ Byron Katie 

    3. Set healthy boundaries with the outer world.

    One of the most challenging things I had to learn was how to say no to things I didn’t really want to do, without feeling selfish, guilty, or overly worried that I might hurt or upset someone else. I struggled with this in my personal relationships (like when I saw a movie in town on a Sunday because a good friend had asked, even though my body only wanted to sleep and recharge), but not only in this area of my life.

    This was a challenge at work, as well, whether I was saying yes to tasks that were not part of my job profile or volunteering to take on new projects when I already had a lot on my plate. But one day, I decided to speak up for myself and see what happened. Surprisingly, everything was just fine when I started telling people what I needed.

    To me, setting healthy boundaries was a learned practice, and here’s where I am today:

    Saying no doesn’t mean I dislike or reject the other person. I say yes to the person and no to the task. In reality, I know I can’t disappoint anyone. People disappoint themselves with the expectations they set for whom they want me to be and what they expect me to do. It’s always their story. If they truly love me, they’ll understand.

    We teach people how to treat us by deciding what we will and won’t accept. I ceased letting anyone take advantage of me. I am not a doormat. It is not my responsibility to entertain other people and make them happy. Whenever I offer people time, I give them a piece of my life.

    Today, I spend my precious time with people who bring the best in me, who support me and accept me just the way I am. Relationships in which we need to pretend are toxic. If I don’t feel at ease with people, I don’t change myself; I change the people.

    Setting boundaries in a relationship might look selfish to the outer world. In reality, it is a form of self-respect, self-love, and self-care.

    “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

    4. Assertive communication.

    Often cases, I found it extremely difficult to say no only because I didn’t know how to express myself with clarity and confidence, fearing I could sound aggressive or impolite. I learned to say no with grace, without offending anyone.

    Here are some simple formulas that always work well for me:

    • It doesn’t work for me right now.
    • I’m not able to make it this Sunday/this week/month/year.
    • I’ve got too much on my plate right now.
    • Thank you for thinking of me, I’m sorry I can’t at this time.
    • It’s too bad I’m busy, but please let me know how it turns out.
    • Perhaps another time, let me know what next week looks like for you.
    • No thank you, but it sounds lovely.

    “When you say Yes to others, make sure you are not saying No to yourself.” ~ Paulo Coelho

    5. Become my own best friend. 

    For my happiness, I’m in charge. I stopped expecting others to make me happy and to fulfill my needs and desires.

    I’ve made myself a priority in my own life. I engage in activities that bring me joy. I do more things for my heart and soul. This way, I create happiness from the inside out instead of chasing it through other people.

    It is not my husband’s responsibility to make me feel valued, cherished, loved, whole, and complete; it’s mine.

    Loving ourselves as a whole—mind, body, and soul—is not selfish; it is necessary. Being loved is a human need. However, being needy is something different. I came to understand that people who are taking good care of themselves are less dependent on the approval of others.

    I pay attention to my self-talk. I eliminated disempowering words or thoughts from my repertoire: “I am stupid,” “I am too fat,” “I’m a failure,” “I’m not good enough.”

    I treat myself with dignity and respect. I talk to myself kindly. I don’t call myself names and I acknowledge myself for my achievements, for my willingness to learn and grow. This way, my cup of self-love is always full, and external praise comes as a bonus.

    I practice the art of embracing praise. I take compliments gracefully instead of putting myself down, as if I’m unworthy of such a celebration. I enjoy when people compliment me but I am not dependent on them to feel good about myself.

    “It’s not your job to like me; it’s mine.” ~ Byron Katie

    Once I decided to embrace myself with love and compassion, being alone didn’t feel scary or hard, and I started to enjoy my own company.

    Just think from this perspective: Out of everyone you know in the world, the only person that is always present in your life, non-negotiable, day and night, is you. So if you don’t like being all by yourself, at least from time to time, you might need to work on the most important relationship you’ll ever get in life: the one with yourself.

    To some people, the need to be alone could also be a personality issue, as introverted persons want to charge their batteries from the inside out and don’t always need to be surrounded by people. Meanwhile, I have met very extroverted people who suddenly didn’t need to spend so much of their time with others and started focusing more on themselves.

    Being liked and included and feeling a sense of belonging to a community are basic human needs. As defined by Descartes, humans are “social animals.” However, many people use others as a diverting tool that helps them run from themselves.

    I’ve been there as well in the past—spending time with others to feel seen or included, or keeping the TV switched on all day long in my home, even if I wasn’t watching. In reality, I was using that noise to run from my own thoughts and emotions.

    When we have a harmonic relationship with ourselves, we no longer look to other people to fill holes in our self-esteem. We need people but we aren’t emotionally needy. There’s a big difference between the two.

    “You can never feel lonely when you like the person you’re alone with.“ ~Wayne Dyer

  • How to Stop Worrying About the Future and Start Living Your Life Now

    How to Stop Worrying About the Future and Start Living Your Life Now

    “Every tomorrow has two handles. We can take hold of it with the handle of anxiety or the handle of faith.” ~Henry Ward Beecher

    Retirement. A word that fills people with both excitement and fear.

    On the one hand, we’re excited about the possibilities that retirement brings. The possibility to travel, to try new hobbies, to live our lives the way we want.

    On the other hand, we worry about whether we’ll have enough money to survive until that unknown age at which we’ll die. And maybe not just survive but to actually thrive in our later years.

    That fear, that endless worry about the future, is what keeps many people stuck in soul-sucking careers. Following the safe path in life, trying to save up money for that day in which they’ll no longer be working. Sacrificing their one precious life in exchange for a sense of security later on.

    I understand those fears about the future and retirement. I recently turned forty-nine years old, which means that my retirement is only fifteen years away. Fifteen years may seem like a long time, but I know that those years will pass quickly.

    I have some money saved up in retirement accounts and I will also receive a small pension. And hopefully I’ll also receive money from Social Security.

    Will that be enough? And how long will that money last? I have no idea.

    My retirement years could have been a lot different. Three times in my life I’ve walked away from jobs that paid me lots of money and paid generous retirement benefits. My friends who decided to stay in those jobs will likely have few worries when they retire.

    So yes, I gave up a lot of money and a secure retirement. But I also saved my soul in the process. Those jobs I walked away from? They were destroying me.

    I hated being stuck in a cubicle. I hated sitting in front of a computer all day long. I hated writing pointless memos. I hated going to meetings to talk about things that I didn’t care about.

    My dad spent over twenty years in a job he hated because he had no choice. He had to support his wife and three kids. And I saw firsthand how staying in that job destroyed him. And I vowed a long time ago not to do to myself what he did to himself.

    So I did whatever was necessary to get out of those jobs. And then I used some of my savings and took the time to do things that people say they’ll do in retirement:

    • I backpacked around the world, visiting over thirty countries and living in several others.
    • I volunteered with street children in Mexico and with cancer patients in the Philippines.
    • I learned Spanish, starting from point zero to becoming near fluent.
    • I lived at a yoga center in Pennsylvania and a meditation center in Wisconsin.

    And afterward I started my own business so that I could live life on my terms instead of how others wanted or expected me to live it.

    In my opinion, there’s no amount of money that makes staying in a job that you hate worthwhile. Not for me, at least. Not unless I have absolutely no other choice. Life is now, not in some imagined future.

    I honestly have no idea what the future holds for me and what my retirement will be like. I may not have much money when that time happens. And the money I do have for retirement may run out quickly.

    But over the years I’ve learned to be adaptable. I’ve learned how to do without. I’ve learned how to live simply.

    Most importantly I’ve learned that the three most important things in life are connection, community, and contribution. Those are things that can’t be bought with money. And as long as I have those, everything else is negotiable.

    So whatever happens in the future, I trust in myself and my ability to adapt. I know that I’ll figure something out.

    And I’ll not just survive…I’ll thrive!

    • Maybe I’ll join the Peace Corps.
    • Maybe I’ll live in a monastery in Thailand and study Buddhism in depth.
    • Maybe I’ll teach English in a rural village in Peru in exchange for room and board.
    • Heck, maybe I’ll drive a school bus till I’m seventy-five years old like my dad did (and absolutely loved!) after he finally left his soul-sucking job.

    I leave you with this message. If you’re in a soul-sucking job, and only staying for the money, then do whatever it takes to get out as soon as you can. Your one precious life isn’t worth wasting.

    Yes, you need money to survive. We all do. But there are always far, far better options than sacrificing your life for money.

    So if you’re ready to stop worrying about the future and start living your life now, here are my tips for you:

    Accept and trust that you’ll find a way to make things work in the future, even if you’re not sure how.

    Chances are, you are more intelligent, resourceful, and adaptable than you realize. And that you will find a way to not only survive in the future but also to thrive. That’s what I found out when I started taking more risks in my life.

    For example, I used to think that I couldn’t learn a foreign language. But once I put myself in the right situation (intensive lessons in Mexico), I quickly found out that I could learn a foreign language.

    I also used to think that I couldn’t adapt to living in a foreign country. My first two attempts ended after three months due to homesickness. But my third attempt was successful and I’ve now lived in Bogota, Colombia, for over five years. I’ve adapted to living here even though I thought I couldn’t.

    Start taking a few risks and testing your limits. Just like me, you’ll learn to be more resourceful and adaptable—skills that will both help you in the future and give you more options in life.

    Strike a balance between now and the future.

    You need money for the future and for retirement. But you also need to live in the now. Aim to strike a balance between those two competing desires. Do everything you can to live your life now while also preparing for the future.

    For example, when I go out to eat with my friends, they will often order a glass of wine, an appetizer, a main course, and dessert, spending $50 per person. I, on the other hand, only order a main course and drink water, spending $10-15 dollars. I still get to enjoy a nice meal and the company of my friends (living now) while spending a lot less money (preparing for the future).

    Give up the idea that life has to look a particular way.

    Lots of people follow the safe path in life because that’s what they see everyone else doing. But there’s no reason why your life has to look like everyone else’s.

    By their forties, most of my friends and family had settled down, bought houses, started families, and worked the same jobs for years. On the other hand, when I was in my forties, I quit my job, sold all my possessions, and backpacked through Latin America and Eastern Europe. That’s not what most people do in their forties, but it’s what I wanted to do.

    Similarly, I’m sure my retirement will look a lot different than that of my friends and family. But my life isn’t bound by what other people do and neither is yours. Live the life you want to, the life that resonates with your heart—both now and in the future!

    Accept that the future is ultimately unknowable.

    None of us knows what the future holds. And no matter how much you plan for the future, your future will likely turn out to be very different than you expect. I know that mine has—for example, I never expected to be living in Bogota, Colombia, nor did I expect to own my own business.

    There’s nothing wrong with planning for the future, but in the end you can’t control it. So I suggest that you embrace the unknown, go with the flow, and see what unfolds in your life.

    In the end, you only get one chance at life. You can wait around for the future, wait around for your retirement to finally start living the life you want. Or you can start taking steps to do that right now and let the future take care of itself when it arrives. The choice is yours.

  • Whatever Is Taken for Granted Will Eventually Be Taken Away

    Whatever Is Taken for Granted Will Eventually Be Taken Away

    “They say ‘you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.’ The truth is, you knew exactly what you had. You just didn’t think that you were going to lose it.” ~Unknown

    She was a mother of eight children. She lived with her family in a small village in the countryside.

    Living in a poor family, with eight mouths to feed, she worked every possible job from dawn till dusk, from working in her family’s own rice field to accepting gigs from anyone who’d hire her.

    Many people told her not to put her children in school so she could have some help with work. But she insisted on letting her children be educated so that they could have a shot to live a better life than hers. It meant working ten times extra, but she did it anyway.

    She lived more strictly than a monk. She didn’t eat enough, because the less she ate, the more her children could eat.

    Fast forward nearly forty years later, she suffered from heart disease, blood pressure problem, and many serious illnesses. According to the doctor, the main reason was that she’d neglected herself for so long.

    In the last couple months of her life, she couldn’t walk or talk. She became paralyzed and she forgot her children and grandchildren. Later she died in the arms of her family.

    That was the life story of my grandmother, the woman who sacrificed her entire life to take care of other people and expected nothing in return. And everyone took her for granted.

    It’s not because we didn’t love her. But we were just too busy with our lives. And most importantly, our society raised us not to express our love and feelings to others, because it was considered a sign of weakness.

    I remember just a couple hours before she died, we were all expecting it and we gathered together to be with her.

    My mom said, “Grandma is so weak.” I hugged her.

    It was the first time I saw her cry.

    A couple years later, my aunt told me she never hugged my grandma and told her how much she loved her. She didn’t know better at that time. She does now, but she’ll never have that chance again.

    They took her for granted. And now she’s gone.

    My grandma’s love and sacrifices seem to repeat themselves—with my mom.

    A mother of four children, she found herself in a familiar situation.

    She raised her four children herself while her husband was away to work for many years. She never had good food because she tried to save money to provide for her family.

    And honestly, I also took her for granted.

    She was always there for me when I needed her. She never left me when I got sick. She fixed my clothes and bought me some pretty shoes when I asked for them, even though money was tight. She provided me with everything I’ve ever needed. And magically, she still managed to do the same for my siblings.

    She was a superwoman to me.

    It was not uncommon for her to do all the household chores while we just sat around, studying, chatting, or playing.

    I knew she worked hard, but I also thought that’s how all moms were. I never remembered to say “thank you” to her. She plays a huge part in my life, and for a long time I just didn’t realize it. Until she was diagnosed with cancer.

    My world collapsed. Life was so brutal.

    When she was in the chemo, the house was a mess. No one cared to clean, cook, or talk. My family and I only talked about Mom, who was becoming weaker by the day.

    I remember when she finally came home after the first chemo session, we kept asking her what food she could eat and how she felt. That was the first time she received so much attention.

    I also remember she got up, ran outside the room, stood in the dark, and cried. She cried not because she was scared of death, but because she was scared that no one would take care of her children.

    I had taken her for granted, but I still had a chance. Since then, I learned to take care of her as well as she took care of me.

    Even after my mom was cured, the fear of losing her still scared me to death. But it also makes me realize that we all tend to take people around us for granted, especially the people who are closest to us. We only remember to cherish them when we are about to lose or after we lost them.

    I now make it a goal to never take anyone for granted. I make sure I appreciate everyone around me. If you think you might also be guilty of taking people for granted…

    Remind yourself that nothing is permanent.

    Nothing you have today will last forever. Not your job, your house, or your car. Not the people who are closest to you. Not even the people who vowed to never leave your side.

    Take a moment and accept the fact that life is short and you don’t have a lot of time to be with your loved ones. Someday all those people will no longer be around you, and you can’t possibly know when. Cherish them while you can.

    Expect nothing. Appreciate everything.

    No one is responsible for you and your life. No one is obligated to show you affection and kindness. Even if they are the people you love, it doesn’t mean they must love you back. They don’t have to do anything for you, even the smallest things.

    So when they do, recognize their efforts and thank them for everything they do for you. Everyone appreciates knowing they’re appreciated.

    Express your love with little gestures.

    Born in a third world country, I wasn’t raised to express my feelings for other people. Many times I struggled to tell my mom how much I love her. I thought she knew because she is my mom. But it doesn’t mean she would not feel happier if I chose to share how much I cared.

    It was strange at first, but now I call her every day and kiss her over the phone camera. I send her random text to tell her I love her and arrange flowers to be delivered to her house.

    Even if you’re busy, put in the effort to show how much you care. It doesn’t have to be anything big. As Robert Brault said, the little things are often the big things.

    Stay in the moment.

    Sometimes we are so busy with our work, our hobbies, and our relationship problems that we don’t focus on the people who are right in front of us.

    But if you don’t, when you look back on those moments, you will regret not being in the moment and enjoying time with your loved ones.

    Make a commitment to yourself today: Stop worrying about things you have no control over. And if you can’t stop worrying altogether, at least vow to put your worries aside for a while every day so you can be there for your loved ones, both physically and spiritually.

    —

    It is easy to get used to all the sweet and kind gestures people do for you. But don’t take them for granted.

    Go ahead. Call your mom, dad, or someone else you love. Tell them how much you love them and thank them for everything they do.

    Send a text to your significant other, if you have one. Thank them for cooking a big breakfast for you, or even just for listening.

    Buy a bouquet of flowers and send it to your spouse or friend, along with a note to tell them how much you appreciate the little things they do for you every day.

    “Smile big. Laugh often. Never take this life for granted.” ~Unknown

  • It’s Okay to Have Feelings, So Stop Saying “I’m Fine” When You’re Not

    It’s Okay to Have Feelings, So Stop Saying “I’m Fine” When You’re Not

    “I’d rather be honest and authentic and disappoint some people than exhaust myself trying to keep up the façade of perfection.” ~Crystal Paine

    So many people walk around each day masking their true feelings because they are considered the “strong one” or “the upbeat, bubbly one,” or, since they give so much of themselves supporting others, they’re not seen as having any emotions other than happy. If you’ve ever felt like you had to hold it together all the time to keep up a façade for others, there’s freedom in letting people know that you have feelings too.

    Keeping it together has always been my thing. You know the phrase “never let ’em see you sweat”? Well, even in my worst moments, I would keep it all in place and poised for the public, but I’d be secretly dying on the inside because of the pain or challenges I was going through.

    It can catch some people off guard to see you be real, revealing that you don’t have it all together, and at times their responses can leave you wounded. I know that feeling all too well.

    A few months back, I attended an event to support a colleague, and I bumped into someone I knew well. He asked me how I was doing, and I responded honestly with, “I’m hanging in there, but I’m fine.”

    He immediately made a face and seemed disturbed by my response. He said, “Woooooah, you gotta change that. You sound too defeated, and that’s not what I want to hear from you.”

    He went on to say, “What you said makes me want to back away from you and go the opposite direction. It’s too much for me. You must always answer with a positive response.” He then went on to provide ways for me to respond in the near future.    

    What this person didn’t know was, I was feeling down and discouraged because I felt I wasn’t as far as I should be in my life and business.

    I had poured all of myself into doing things to get the business running consistently; however, whenever I looked at all the effort I put in and saw things not happening as quickly as I thought they should, I felt as if I’d failed. So, it was a tough time as I sorted through those different emotions.

    At first, I felt lousy about my response, because with me being considered the “upbeat, strong one,” always smiling and helping others to feel better, there is an assumption of how I should be at all times. I thought I had somehow let that person down by revealing my true feelings in that moment. I also felt embarrassed because I’d exposed a small part of myself and felt like I was rejected and told how I should sound.

    But after I thought about it, I realized I was fine with my response because it was a genuine answer. I am on a path of making true connections with others, and I no longer want to “act” and pretend to be fine when I’m not.

    While this person didn’t have any ill intent and actually thought he was being helpful in telling me how I should respond, it clearly made it uncomfortable for me to open up to him the next time around.

    It made me think about why some people try to force others to hide behind a mask. Why do people expect you to always be “on”?

    This was a moment for someone to find out what was truly going on with me, to find out why I seemed so down, and to make a true connection, instead of offering me another mask to wear in his presence.

    This led me to wonder, when we ask people, “How are you doing?” are we really open to an honest response, or are we looking to hear the template response we so often hear, “I’m fine”?

    I also thought about how many people wear a mask every day or keep a façade to avoid showing their humanity and potentially making others feel uncomfortable. The people we interact with every day are carrying worries, concerns, and emotional pain within, and we cannot ask them to put on a fake smiley face and tell them to be on their way. These people need someone to truly see them.

    If you sometimes hide your true feelings behind a mask, here are a few ways to begin opening up.

    Practice honestly connecting with people, even if you start small.

    As psychotherapist Barton Goldsmith wrote, “When you open your mouth, you’re also opening your heart. And knowing that someone truly hears what you are feeling and understands you is soothing to the soul.”

    If you’re not accustomed to opening your heart to people, start small by sharing one thing you’re thinking or feeling but may be tempted to keep inside. Opening up to others will allow you the space to be yourself, and from there you’ll clearly see who’s willing to receive what you have to say with an open heart. You’ll also begin to forge deeper relationships through your honest connections.

    Also, be the person who allows others the space to just be and offer support and guidance as needed. Ask about their lives, and let them know you’re happy to be a nonjudgmental ear. Giving people room to share pieces of themselves lets them know you’re there for them and they can be honest with you.

    Allow yourself space to feel.

    Many times when we avoid sharing our feelings with others, it’s because we haven’t given ourselves space to identify and process our emotions. We try to cover them up or engage in activities to mask the pain, but they don’t go away when we do this. Left unprocessed, our feelings tend to leak out in other ways. For example, we may overreact in unrelated situations.

    Give yourself permission to feel whatever you feel, without judgment, and learn to recognize when you’re lying to yourself, telling yourself you’re “fine” when you’re not. The first step to being honest with others is being honest with yourself.

    Be kind to yourself.

    We tend to beat ourselves up when we do not respond, act, speak, or think how others believe we should. This can put pressure on us to shift to meet everyone else’s needs without truly acknowledging our own.

    Get in the habit of checking in with yourself and meeting your emotional needs, whether that means processing your feelings in a journal or practicing self-care. The more you respect your truth and your needs, the better you’ll be able to communicate them to others.

    —

    It’s a heavy burden to hide behind a façade or wear a mask. Allow yourself to experience the freedom of being authentic in each moment and making genuine connections with people who can receive your feelings.

    There’s power in putting down your superhero cape, being vulnerable, and sharing your truth. You don’t have to hide, pretend, or feel bad about not always being the “strong one.” You’re not weak, you’re human, and you never have to apologize for that.

  • How I Stopped Feeling Trapped in a Life I Didn’t Want

    How I Stopped Feeling Trapped in a Life I Didn’t Want

    “Stop thinking in terms of limitations and start thinking in terms of possibilities.” ~Terry Josephson

    When I was in my early twenties I was lucky enough to spend about a year living just a few blocks from the beach in Virginia Beach, Virginia, but you know what I remember most distinctly from that time? Sitting at a red light on the way to work one day thinking: I feel trapped.

    To put it simply, I felt stuck in a life I didn’t want.

    I had a college degree I wasn’t using. I had a job that I dreaded. I had no idea where I was going or what I was doing, and I certainly had no idea how to get to the next thing, whatever that was.

    By the end of that year, I’d managed to move away from Virginia and was living back in Vermont, a place I’d originally landed at for a few months right after I finished college. The trapped feeling was gone, at least for a little while.

    I was able to go from seasonal job to part-time job and back again for about a year, and that helped me feel not quite so tied down. Eventually I left Vermont and moved to the mountains of North Carolina.

    Over the years, that trapped feeling wrapped its tendrils around my chest and squeezed a number of times, but recently I realized I haven’t felt that way in quite a while.

    What was it that made me feel so trapped in the past? Why haven’t I been feeling that way anymore? For me, I think it comes down to career and identity. I spent much of my life wondering what I wanted to be when I grew up, and went from job to job, often ending up feeling like I was caged in.

    I had a job working at an inn that I really loved. Sometimes I was bored, but mostly I felt at least a little freedom, especially once I was the boss and could make my own schedule.

    After a few years of that, I took a job at an airport that was such an awful fit I can’t even put it into words. I was bored, lonely, and anxious, and caught more colds than I ever have in my life.

    There was some good in that job, though, in that I started expressing my creative side again, something that had been dormant for a long time. Being miserable also forced me to take a look at the choices I was making in my life and career.

    I had other boring jobs after that one, and then one really terrible one that went against just about every moral fiber in my body. The owners made their politics very clear and they were the polar opposite of mine. I was expected to be on call almost all the time; if my work phone rang when I was at home, fear filled my heart.

    Once again, I felt trapped.

    It was worse than ever at this job because I was the sole breadwinner while my husband was in school. I knew it was a terrible fit, but I felt I couldn’t leave.

    Looking back, though, while all of that was going on, I was refining and honing what it was I truly wanted and who I truly was.

    I read a zillion self-help and career books. I took a life coach training program. I started meditating.

    Most importantly, I started listening to myself. Or maybe I should say my Self.

    I started following the things that felt true to me. Being inside an office all day simply was not working, and I wanted to work for myself, not for someone else.

    I needed to be creative. I needed to be able to go outside in the middle of the day. I needed freedom.

    I left that last terrible job nearly four years ago, and visits from those tendrils of terror don’t come very often anymore, despite the fact that I’m much more tied down than I ever have been before (hello mortgage, car payment, husband, two cats, and child).

    The bottom line is that I finally feel like I’m living my life instead of someone else’s.

    I do hold a job again, but it’s super flexible, doing something I mostly enjoy. I create art almost every day, and both the process of putting colors to canvas and earning money from something I enjoy so much bring me big feelings of freedom.

    I also get to be outside in the middle of the day, which brings me more happiness than I ever could have imagined. I get to set big goals and move toward them at my own pace. I get to control my life in ways I didn’t before.

    I feel like me, and it feels so good.

    Here are some steps of the steps I took to get from there to here, and that you can try, too, if you feel trapped in your life.

    Listen to your body. This has helped me more times than I can count. If your chest feels tight, if your stomach is in knots, if your shoulders are up to your neck, or if you feel just plain off, you need to stop and listen to what your body is telling you.

    Your body is the animal part of you, in touch with your deepest needs and desires. It’s your brain that keeps interfering and telling you the kind of life you “should” be living. Try checking in with your body at least once a day and seeing what makes it feel open and relaxed, then do more of that.

    Know you can make progress even if it doesn’t feel like it. For years and years I tried to get out of that cycle of being stuck in a job I hated, trying to do something new but then realizing it wasn’t the right fit, and then starting the whole thing over again. It’s only looking back now that I see I was getting closer and closer and learning more and more each time I did something different—I just didn’t see it at the time.

    Take the tiniest steps possible. When I was in that job that I really hated, it would have created more stress and anxiety in my life if I’d quit, since I was the one bringing in the money and because, about a year after I started the job, I got pregnant and needed the health insurance. So I took tiny steps while I was there: I made art on the weekends, I took an online class about building my own business, I went outside and walked by the ocean a lot.

    If you do anything, and I mean anything at all, that moves you closer to a place of peace or excitement, please give yourself a pat on the back. There is nothing wrong with congratulating yourself and telling yourself what a good job you’re doing. It will keep you moving forward and help you build momentum.

    Look for the positive. There is something good in all of our experiences if we take the time to look for it. That job was a positive for me because I could support our family while I was there, and because I learned what I didn’t want in a job.

    I feel the same about all of my jobs and even all of my past relationships. Even if it wasn’t the right fit, I learned something about myself and what I did or didn’t want out of a job or a partner.

    Every time you experience something, you can learn from it and use it to move away from what you don’t want and toward what you do want. Focus on the good you’re finding, and more good comes. Focus on the bad you’re feeling, and the more you’ll feel bad.

    Learn to live with uncertainty. You just can’t know everything, and that’s okay. I got a life coaching certification, personal training certification, and master’s degree in health education before I realized that none of that would help me feel free. Until I found it, I didn’t know what would give me that feeling, and I was (mostly) okay with that. I was trying new things, seeing what felt right.

    You don’t need to know exactly what’s going to happen to know you’re on the right path. So long as you’re taking chances and learning about yourself, you are.

    Lastly, don’t discount little things that make you happy. I used to think that art was just something that I did when I was a kid that couldn’t amount to much, and the pleasure it brings to me in my adult life, both on a personal and professional level, is tremendous.

    If it feels good, go toward it. If it feels bad, move away from it, even if you have to do it slowly.

    You don’t have to feel trapped in a life you don’t want forever. You can make changes, even tiny incremental ones, and get into a life that feels just right for you.

  • What’s Helped Me Get Out of My Head and Do Things That Scare Me

    What’s Helped Me Get Out of My Head and Do Things That Scare Me

    “Don’t let the fear of what could happen make nothing happen.” ~Unknown

    I knew it was coming.

    But as I sat there on the first day of the seminar, my stomach still did a little turn when the trainer announced the exercise we’d be doing over our lunch break:

    The dreaded pizza walk!

    I knew this was the trainer’s wry (but equally as unnerving) riposte to Tony Robbins’ famous fire walks. But right then, I would have much rather taken my chances with the coals.

    The idea is simple: Go into a shop, restaurant, or other public establishment and make an absurd and bold request; for example, walk into a hardware store and ask for a pizza.

    Easy? Maybe.

    As we broke for dinner there was lots of nervous chatter amongst the trainees, but I chose not to engage with the others. I wanted to get out there and face these pizza demons as soon as possible.

    Now, the aim of the exercise on one level seemed obvious: to teach us to be more forthright, in businesses, in our relationships, in life.

    The bolder the requests we make, the less ridiculous they’ll seem, and the easier it will be to make other bold requests. Thus we can go home and feel more comfortable speaking our truth, asking for what we want, and generally showing up in life more confidently.

    Or so I thought. Because what I actually learned from this exercise was much more powerful.

    After leaving the building where we’d been, I walked down the main street, which was in fact the Baker Street.

    So, as I passed Sherlock’s ‘house’ and the eager tourists queuing outside, I began looking around for my target.

    There were a few souvenir shops I could pick. A Subway restaurant (of course!), a few bars, but nothing that really took my fancy.

    (Or rather, if I’m honest, I knew I had an hour to do this and it all felt too edgy and I wanted to put it off as long as possible.)

    So I ducked into a Nando’s Restaurant and had some chicken. (Oh, the irony!)

    As I ate my half Piri Piri chicken (medium-hot with rice, if you’re interested), I contemplated my task.

    It felt silly to be so up in my head and nervous about this simple, innocuous exercise.

    What was the worst that would happen? Perhaps a bemused stare from the shop worker at best.

    So why was I shaking just thinking about it?

    If you’re thinking I’m being daft and wussy as you read this, I encourage you to try this for yourself. It’s not as easy as it seems. In fact, making that bold request can feel pretty scary.

    But then again, is that really true?

    Because the insight I had next changed a lot of things for me.

    You see, I realized that what the trainer actually wanted us to learn from this experience was something completely different from my original notion.

    As the clock ticked away and I saw that we were due back in ten minutes, I knew it was now or never. I had to make my absurd request. I had to do the pizza walk.

    I also knew that I had to just get it done, to stop waiting to feel ready and just get to it. Action was key.

    So as I passed the next shop, a newsagent, I went in. I strolled up to the counter, looked the guy straight in the eyes, and, poker-faced, said:

    “Can I have a cheeseburger and large fries please?”

    And it was weird.

    My immediate feeling in that moment was actually one of real elation. I felt dizzy but happy, like I’d just nervously jumped out of a plane and now found that my parachute had opened and I could enjoy the float to earth.

    Of course, the man behind the counter didn’t appear to be experiencing any of this. He just looked a little confused and taken aback.

    Yet I also felt there was something else present in him. Compassion maybe? Concern?

    I’d jarred us both out of our day-to-day reality and allowed us to be supremely present with each other. We connected on a deeper level.

    In that moment, we dropped out of being on autopilot and a more profound interaction could take place.

    (Again, I’m not sure that the man behind the counter assessed it all this way, but I felt it!)

    Next he kind of stuttered something about having some sandwiches in the chiller, and I was suddenly overcome with warmth toward him—that even in this bizarre situation he was trying to help this strange man at his counter.

    From nowhere I heard myself say:

    “It doesn’t matter about the cheeseburger actually. I’ll have a Lotto scratchcard, but can you make sure it’s the winning one?”

    I was having fun now. Still totally present and enjoying this interaction.

    Thankfully. I think my new friend was beginning to enjoy it too, as he play acted choosing the right scratchcard, which he assured me was the winning one.

    I thanked him, paid, and left. As I stepped outside onto that cold February afternoon I saw something I’d not truly, insight-fully seen up to now.

    You see, I’d spent the last hour stuck in my head worrying about this event.

    I’d been living in an imagined future where the event went really bad, where I felt silly, where I was ridiculed. And these thoughts had made me really fearful of making this silly request. My confidence had dropped and it had almost stopped me from taking part.

    But what actually happened was that when I did make the request I was truly in the moment. I was living in real life, not in my imagination about what this might look like.

    And more importantly, in the moment I was so much more resilient, confident, creative, and connected than I’d given myself credit for. So much so that I forgot all about that imagined reality and just lived in actual reality.

    This insight was massive for me because that’s how we can all be, quite a lot of the time.

    This is how we can show up with our careers, in our relationships, in life.

    We get so stuck in our thinking that we can almost talk ourselves out of doing things we want to do.

    We second-guess ourselves, we make stuff up about what people might think about us, and then we sit with those thoughts and go over and over them until they start to look real. In that process we always underestimate our resilience and our moment-to-moment creativity.

    What I really saw that day was that it’s never the future event we fear. It’s only ever our thinking about that future event.

    And if it’s just our own thinking—and not the imagined, self-created ‘event’—then why do we give it so much attention?

    I see now that there have been loads of times in the past when I’ve worried and stressed about things, only for them to be fine, even enjoyable when they actually happened.

    I’m sure you’ve got lots of examples you can recall right now as you think about your own life.

    The more we can explore this and shine a light on what’s going on, the more grounded and confident we become.

    What would it mean to you if you could use all this anxious energy for good use?

    What would it mean if you could quickly drop out of worrying about future events and stay present?

    Let’s be clear here, we are only ever able to do anything right now, in this moment. When we live in that scary future world we have no power. We don’t exist there except in our thinking.

    By exploring this deeper, I know it’s allowed me to be calmer, more confident, and more productive in my work. A better human being even.

    I don’t take things so personally any more. I don’t spend needless hours and days worrying about what might happen.

    I stay more in the moment, which means when I’m at work I’m no longer in my head wondering if people will want to hire me, or what they think of me, or if I’m going to be able to get them the results they want. When I’m with friends and loved ones I’m not living in my thinking about what’s going on; I’m enjoying being present and in the now with them.

    This frees up my attention to really listen to what they’re saying, to connect with them on a deeper level. And in doing so I can have so much more impact than if I was trying to second-guess the situation or worrying about what will happen next.

    How do you stay more present?

    Remind yourself that, no matter how real the future event looks in your mind, your feelings don’t indicate anything about the outcome of that event; they are just a response to your thoughts in that moment.

    Your feelings have no idea what will happen in the future.

    Like me, you might just find that what, in your imagination, seems really scary is actually incredibly liberating and enjoyable when it actually happens.

    So next time you catch yourself stuck in your head, simply take a moment to step back and notice where your attention is.

    Is it in your thinking, or in life?

    In asking yourself this you’ll automatically drop back into life, where you have everything you need to really connect with the person in front of you.

    And if you were wondering, it wasn’t the winning scatchcard.

    You can’t win ’em all!

  • Feeling Empty? Here’s How to Find Joy (and Yourself) Again

    Feeling Empty? Here’s How to Find Joy (and Yourself) Again

    “Many people are alive but don’t touch the miracle of being alive.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh 

    “Who are you? No, really. Who are you?”

    I stood at my bathroom mirror, towel twisted around my head, inspecting my own reflection. A woman I hardly recognized looked back at me with empty eyes. Empty mouth. Empty insides.

    “Who are you?”

    Silence.

    “What do you want?”

    Nada.

    “What are you thinking?”

    Zilch.

    I sighed and reached for the toothbrush. The truth is, I’d been there before. That empty-sad feeling. The feeling of not quite fitting in. Not quite feeling fulfilled.  

    Before, I’d brush it off. Dig deep, push through, move on.

    I’d say everything was just fine. It sure looked just “fine.” After all, I was a fully functional adult. Everyone said so.

    I had my education, a career, a husband, kids, a house.

    I was chipping away at that mortgage and student loan debt. They’re the good kinds of debt, you know.

    I’d checked the boxes on life’s to-do list. Isn’t this what we should all be aiming for?

    I didn’t know it yet, but this time would be different. That moment would be the turning point after too many years convincing myself that I didn’t know the answer to my questions.

    This would be the moment of renewal, reclaiming the missing pieces of me and offering them the loving care they deserved all this time.

    Later that day, kneeling down at the washing machine, ruminating about I don’t even know what, it hit me: a full-body NO. This is not what life is meant to be, I thought.

    It was a no to this being my everyday experience. No to living on autopilot. No to feeling empty. No to not even recognizing myself.

    It was a punch through the chest. My eyes welled with bottled up tears, and I had the distinct feeling of just wanting to go home.

    I’d been pushed over the edge of the cliff I’d tiptoed for years.

    The real surprise, though, was the laughter that followed. It tickled my throat and escaped through bursts of tears. I reached up to wipe my cheeks and found a smile there.

    The relief of seeing all of this and finally saying, “No!” was the most amazing thing.

    I spent the next few days in quiet observation, breathing through the pins and needles of waking up.

    At first, I didn’t know what to make of the mixed-up, muddy feelings that met me. Was this anguish? Euphoria? Confusion for sure, but I felt I had no choice but to keep going.

    So, I walked softly and resisted the urge to define this.

    The more intently I listened, the more clearly I started to hear and feel yes and no. They curled through my day, winding themselves around everything I’d just accepted as “the way things are.” 

    The no’s felt empty, hallow, fake. It felt like acting. It was resistance and alarm bells and forcing. Even though it had been my usual mode of operation, being in a state of no also started to hurt.

    But yes… yes felt alive. It was light, expansive, and exciting. I felt energized and creative whenever I was there. The best part was, it was easy.

    Of course, as any of us would, I wanted more of the yes and less of the no. I grabbed a sheet of paper and drew a line down the middle. Two columns: yes and no.

    Beside yes, I wrote “lights me up.” Beside no, “drains me.”

    Then, I listed all of the yes’s and no’s I felt during the day. It was nothing fancy, just a quick word about what I did and how I felt. By the end of the week, I’d created my personal manual for living.

    It was my blueprint for calling my lost parts back.  

    There on that sheet of paper, in my own handwriting, were all the things I’d always known but didn’t yet see.

    I saw that there are naturally things that will be unpleasant or less than thrilling, but that my being doesn’t need to feel that way. There is so much opportunity for yes if we’ll allow for it. So, I started to follow yes with more intention.

    I bought a stack of composition books and carried one with me everywhere.

    I started to draw again after almost thirty years.

    I wrote a poem, and then another and another.

    I started writing children’s stories.

    I fed my spirit good music, sunlight, plenty of color, and lots of space.

    And I remembered that lightness is like oxygen for your soul.

    Now I see that that face, those eyes, those insides, they weren’t empty. They were aching with the kind of deep burn that comes from turning your back on yourself, walking away, and never looking back. I’d just numbed it is all.

    I’d let myself get too busy to think of things like who I am, what I dream, and what I believe more than anything.

    I retreated into my day-in-and-day-out and identified with the little dramas, whether they were mine to start with or not.

    It wasn’t all gloom, mind you.

    I was ambitious. Driven, dedicated, motivated. A real go-getter and other fully functional adult-type things.

    I was also grateful for life’s many blessings and aware of the countless privileges bestowed upon me that had nothing to do with my work ethic or worth as a person.

    Like I said, I was fine. (But not really.)

    I was aimless and stuck in a close enough approximation of inner peace and freedom. I existed as a fragment of me.

    Looking back, it was on that day that I decided that even if I was fine, fine was not enough.  

    Fine is not thriving.

    Fine is not complete.

    Fine is not what I came here to experience, and I couldn’t face another day of pretending to be here and whole.

    My sense of wonder and magic, my awe, my creative spirit, and my light had been calling out to me all this time. Only I couldn’t hear it until then.

    I don’t know if I’d been more scared or ashamed of who I was after casting away these important parts of myself. Maybe I didn’t recognize them as my own. Or maybe I thought this was how it’s supposed to feel. It’s just how things are—you can’t be successful and free, whole and at peace.

    Yet, there they were this whole time, turning toward me like flowers turning toward the sun. They held tight to the cracks in this facade I’d created.

    I suppose they never were lost, just watching and waiting until the day I set down my resistance and welcomed them back home.

    Calling my lost parts home didn’t happen in one grand, sweeping gesture. It took a lot of little moments. Awkward, wobbly baby steps that took me sideways and backward just as easily as forward.

    It took me a while, but I finally figured out that when you feel a yes, you follow it. And bit by bit, all those little steps coalesced into what from the outside looks like the one moment I “took the leap.”  

    If any part of my story resonates with you, then maybe you know what it feels like to pretend to be here and whole. And maybe you’ve had those little moments of clarity and mini-epiphanies that “fine” is not what you came here to experience.

    Maybe you’ve heard your lost parts knocking at your door asking to come home. And maybe you’re ready to listen.

    It may seem like an impossibly long journey when you’re in the walking sleep of I’m fine, but calling your lost parts back and welcoming them inside is as easy as following what lights you up one baby step at a time.

  • How to Accept Anxious Feelings So You Can Let Them Pass

    How to Accept Anxious Feelings So You Can Let Them Pass

    “Don’t try and save yourself. The self that is trying to be saved is not you.” ~Mooji

    Three months ago I had a strange experience.

    It wasn’t strange in that it had never happened before. It was strange in that it was unexpected. Unexpected in the way a hiccup comes up out of nowhere to interrupt a meal. No, actually, it was more unexpected in the way a sudden illness overtakes a period of health.

    Just for a bit of context, over the last six months, I’ve generally been the calmest I’ve felt in years—maybe even my whole life. But recently this has come with a strange side effect. When negative emotions do arise, as they inevitably do, I’m sometimes even more reactive to them than I used to be.

    So three months ago when I woke up abruptly in the middle of the night with a ball of anxiety in my chest it was, well, unexpected.

    And my mind immediately kicked into overdrive.

    “Why am I anxious?”

    “Is there something I’ve forgotten?”

    “Is there something coming up that I’m nervous about?”

    “Am I sick?”

    And then the most dangerous question of all:

    “Have I really been anxious this whole time and the calm isn’t real?”

    This question is very tricky. If I was a character in a movie, I’d been standing up out of my seat and yelling at myself on the screen, “Ignore it! Ignore it! You’re fine, go back to sleep!”

    But it’s tricky because it feels like there a grain of truth to it; on some level we can all relate to that sense of doubt. Our minds tend to come up with explanations based on our feelings, so this sensation of anxiety was (unsurprisingly) causing my mind to come up with a story based on these feelings.

    The whole ordeal lasted less than five minutes. Fortunately, in this moment of tension, I was mindful enough to see how far-fetched these thoughts were. I settled on a far more pragmatic explanation; I’d become so unused to feelings of anxiety, that when they did arise, they were a shock to the system, so my mind immediately tried to rationalize them.

    And then I went back to sleep.

    Moments like this one would come again, and what I needed to do was simple. Any five-minute mindfulness book would have had the answer.

    All I needed to do to keep the calm was to not care that these thoughts and feelings were there. I just needed to be completely disinterested, to not touch anything in my mind. Following the instructions in a moment of distress, however, is much easier said than done.

    So I remembered what I’d heard a yoga teacher say once in an uncomfortable pose where the students had their hands above their heads for a long time.

    “Just tell your mind that things are going to be like this for the rest of your life. It’ll get bored of the pain and move on.”

    I took that idea and started applying it whenever worries came up. I managed to convince myself that I didn’t need to fix anything and that feelings of anxiety were just really not that interesting. It worked out pretty well, so well in fact, that I thought I’d go into a little bit more detail of how I managed to do so and share it with you.

    Here are five ways you can begin to accept anxious feelings and live a better life.

    1. Accept that you can never know why you are experiencing anxiety.

    As problem-solving creatures, when we experience discomfort we immediately try and understand why. But not everything in our lives has a straightforward answer. There are a multitude of factors that lead to anxious feelings, from genetics to work to relationships to diet, memories, and even the weather.

    Trying to pinpoint one reason so that you can have a concise narrative in our minds is a lot less effective (and a lot more tiring) than simply accepting the fact that you don’t know why. This acceptance also allows you to focus your energy toward more practical, calm-inducing strategies such as journaling, yoga, and exercise. When we have more energy, we’re more alert, and this naturally makes us more engaged in our work and home lives, safeguarding us against anxiety and rumination.

    2. Accept that anxiety is neither good nor bad.

    Seeing your anxiety in a wider perspective is best illustrated with a Taoist story (origin unknown):

    “There is an old farmer who had worked his crops from many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. “Such bad luck,” they said sympathetically.

    “Maybe,” the farmer replied. The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. “How wonderful,” the neighbors exclaimed.

    “Maybe,” replied the old man. The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune.

    “Maybe,” answered the farmer. The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son’s leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out. “Maybe,” said the farmer.”

    To accept anxious feelings, try to treat them like the farmer in the story treated his horses. You never know what good may come from your anxiety! In fact, the calm in my life that I mentioned at the start of this article is a direct result of the meditation practice I started, and continued, because of anxiety.

    3. Accept that everyone will experience some form of anxiety.

    When we experience pain we’re hardwired to respond to it, and in that response our perspective is distorted. We become the center of the universe, because we are only feeling our pain in that moment, and not anyone else’s.

    It can be calming and reassuring to know that everyone goes through periods of worry. There are billions of people who have dealt with whatever feelings are coming up in your experience, and there will probably be billions after you. So don’t by any means underestimate your capacity to handle the situation.

    4. Let go of the idea that you shouldn’t have anxiety.

    How would you feel about anxiety if everyone in the world had it? Or if you were told that it was a necessary and useful part of life? You’d probably worry about it a lot less. The idea that you shouldn’t have any feeling stems from the need for things to be better. If you can let go of the normative belief that anxiety is wrong, then your mind will naturally become less and less interested in it.

    This goes hand in hand with the idea that anxiety holds you back in any way—you want to let that go too. Anxiety may, in fact, hold you back from an immediate action, but if we recall the Taoist story of the farmer and his horses, we can never truly know in what direction anxiety will take us.

    5. Become bored with your anxiety.

    This last one is the most difficult but the most important. Often anxiety is so painful that we become fascinated, obsessed even, with understanding and solving our worries. We want to get rid of the pain of anxiety as soon as possible.

    Sometimes this is useful, as we come up with strategies to manage our emotions, but a lot of the time it validates the power of our anxiety and adds fuel to the fire. The mind will only focus on what it values; if you can manage to become bored with your anxiety, it will loosen its grip on your life.

    —

    The steps I’ve outlined in this article are, like I explained in my own experience, much easier said than done. I hope, however, that I’ve given you a slightly different approach you can take toward dealing with any negative emotions.

  • He Left, But I Will Not Give Up On Myself

    He Left, But I Will Not Give Up On Myself

    “I now see how owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing that we will ever do. “ ~Brené Brown

    He just left our home.

    After eighteen years together, fifteen of them being married, he left as we had planned, as we had gently and lovingly discussed.

    We are on a break, a trial separation. What you hear about separation and divorce is all so achingly true. It feels like a death, a chasm where all the worst feelings imaginable pile in on you, where you can’t quite breathe right.

    The pain is visceral—like someone sliced right through your core, the heartache deep enough to make the bones ache, the weariness that makes your head feel heavy and weighted, the primal twists in your gut that cannot be fully appreciated until they are forced upon you unexpectedly.

    My eyes are completely dried out and sore, begging for a reprieve from the ocean of tears.

    I did not see this coming. I wasn’t blindsided completely, as there have been whispers and ghosts of unpleasant truths that had been squashed down for years: all those inner, intimate workings of a marriage that didn’t always flow smoothly, undetectable to the outside world. The ebbs and flows, the dark thoughts that sprout up on a sleepless night, a human experience in all its shared, bumpy glory.

    Through all that, there was purity and goodness, what makes a marriage so rewarding and rich: a deeply rooted friendship, strong as anything I have ever felt with someone in my life. I was connected, heard, understood.

    I had a witness to my life’s journey in all its madness, monotony, and triumph. My person. My love. The person who got it without having to say a word. That steady presence even when we were physically apart. I felt secure and safe, and my feet were firmly planted on the ground.

    So much time, so much history, so much togetherness feels like it has been wiped out in the span of a few months. It disappeared up in smoke with only the ashes to remain. I am untethered, rudderless, a sail desperately trying to right itself in the tempest.

    There is no faultfinding, no hatred, just a crushing sadness with a generous dose of regret. Regret for all the times we didn’t tune into each other or communicate when things urgently needed to be said and handled with proper care. Care that would heal wounds instead of allowing them to fester.

    Regret for retreating into our respective corners and hiding, survival skills carried over from tumultuous childhoods. We landed in the gray area of life where feelings subtly shift over time and don’t course correct in healthy ways.

    That dreaded place where human emotions get murky, cloudy, and raw, allowing vulnerability and disconnect to cause you to do things you never thought you would. In turn, you make futile efforts for control when there is none. You don’t want to let go but you must. Your hands are too raw and bloody from the struggle to hang on for dear life. I know what it means to surrender now.

    It is gone. I am unsure it will ever be back. If it comes back, I hope it is stronger and more lovingly powerful than before, impenetrable from any slings and arrows that may try to dent and poison it. We will nourish and nurture it to make it right, whole, solid—not let it wither away so easily on the vine.

    I won’t mind the battle scars, as they will serve to remind me of what we can endure, how we cope, how we survive, and what loss really feels like in your soul. It will remind me to cherish the feeling of home, the safe haven of togetherness. We will mourn the death of our old marriage and pave a path for a new one that is healing, bright, and hopeful, permanently altered for the better.

    Right now, I am alone, terrified, vulnerable, standing on the edge of an abyss. All I have is myself, and I have to believe that I am enough. My mantra is “I will get through this,” and I repeat it often. It comforts me sometimes.

    I know there are things I didn’t want to acknowledge about myself: I became complacent, didn’t take full advantage of my days of freedom, chose the easy way out on many occasions, ignored my creative leanings, and became more dependent than I would ever care to admit.

    I numbed myself with monotony, allowing seemingly benign things from the past to insidiously take root and work their way to the surface, infecting everything in its path.

    Now it is all there, right in front of me, not so much taunting me but in my face, reminding me I have some work to do. Life lessons that need to be understood and imbibed to my core so I don’t keep repeating them. Not to put myself in such a place of insecurity ever again. I must own all of this, my part. Digest it painfully and slowly but knowing it will fortify me in the future.

    Where will I be in six months, a year? How will this unfold? Will I make hugely gratifying changes that smooth everything over? Will he? Will I take this time to get back to myself? Will I be all too human and fail miserably? Will I numb myself yet again to all of this? Maybe. Maybe not. It is unknowable right now.

    I know what I will be doing every day until the answers come. And they will come whether I like them or not. I will get up each morning. I will take care of my body and mind. I will shower, wash my hair, put on makeup, and get dressed.

    I will face the days, whether they feel short and uneventful or impossibly long, full of loneliness, despair, and isolation. I will cry until I feel depleted and then cry again. I will not sleep well. My stomach will feel like someone is gripping it tightly in their fist.

    But I will take long walks, and inhale clean, fresh air. I will try to eat well, be kind to myself, stay open, soft, and not wear bitterness like a mask or feel my chest constrict with impotent rage. I will remember that it is okay to be afraid. I will reach out to people when I need to and be alone when I need to.

    I will try to laugh every day and remember all the good things I have. I will drink red wine and dance spontaneously to remind myself I am alive in this body. I will not give up on myself, though I will want to. I will not break even though I am fragile as fine china. I will throw many balls in the air and see if one lands on a treasured feeling of possibility.

    I will let this exquisite pain be my greatest teacher. I will give it time—that magical elixir that taunts and teases on its own schedule. I will become the woman I know I am deep inside, even though she got lost along the way—the woman of my dreams, who is capable and strong. It has been eighteen years of building one life, and now I will begin building a new one.

    The most important thing I have learned through this period of profound change is that you need to show up for yourself—always. To be your own champion and best friend. To know with absolute certainty that you are the only person you can count on in order to move forward and build the life of your dreams, with or without someone else. And knowing that is worth everything.

  • How to Find That Something That Feels Missing

    How to Find That Something That Feels Missing

    “The spiritual path is simply the journey of living our lives. Everyone is on a spiritual path; most people just don’t know it.” ~Marianne Williamson

    I remember it as if it happened yesterday. I woke up in the middle of the night with the worst tightening of my chest that I had ever experienced. My heart was racing uncontrollably, my hands were clammy and cold, and nothing I did brought relief.

    I prayed. I chanted. I tapped. I prayed and then prayed some more.

    I thought I was going to die. I started to immediately regret all of the things I hadn’t said, all of the things I hadn’t done, and all the ways I’d failed to truly enjoy my life.

    After what seemed like an eternity, I finally fell asleep just to wake up in another panic because my entire body was wired from head to toe. To make matters worse, I needed to be in court bright and early (more on that later).

    I remember walking into my cardiologist’s office in a panic. He insisted nothing was wrong and that I should consider quitting my job.

    “Quit my job?” I laughed out loud several times.

    His face was stoic. He was not joking. Sh** just got real.

    After wearing a heart monitor for thirty days because I needed to get to the bottom of these debilitating episodes, thankfully, I learned that my heart was functioning just fine. But, the symptoms were a message about a much bigger problem.

    I needed a makeover. I needed a blank canvas.

    Up until that moment, I had lived my life checking items off a list—a list society tells us we need to tackle if we want to be happy and successful, both extremely subjective words.

    The list looks something like this:

    • Get the degree. Check.
    • Buy the expensive property. Check.
    • Be a “good” person. Translation: overextend yourself and be everything to everyone. Check.
    • Dive into a soul-sucking career for the sake of prestige and money. Check.
    • Play it safe. Check.

    Well, I had pretty much checked off the whole list. Yet, I could not shake off this deep desire to find something that felt missing. I felt empty, sad, and angry most days, yet I covered it up with a smile and fake gratitude.

    I’d lost my connection. I’d lost myself. I had no idea who I was. I did not know what to believe in.

    It was like I was waking up from a deep sleep. My soul was craving meaning, depth, and connection. I needed to release all of the beliefs that had kept me hostage to fear and zombie-like comfort.

    My day job as a lawyer was adding a layer of stress to my life that I could not shake off. I knew that this was not the path my soul intended, yet I needed the money, so it was not time to leave just yet. And to make things more confusing, I was good at it. My brain would trick me into thinking I needed to stay in that career.

    While I managed my responsibilities during the day, most nights I consume more spiritual material than most do in a lifetime. I was in search mode. Although I learned many beautiful philosophies and teachings, this consumption of information was not the answer I was seeking.

    I sought coaches, attended seminars, and read almost every book under the sun, yet the feeling of connection eluded me.

    Why? Because I was trying to soothe myself from the mental plane and I forgot to feel my way through the process. I did not know how to connect to my body, and I certainly was not in touch with my right brain—the center of intuition and creativity.

    From that point onward, I committed myself to soul work. The road was long and windy. There were rivers of tears along the way.

    During this time, I discovered things I’d kept hidden from myself and got to know myself in new ways. I was peeling back layers that slowly revealed my true self.

    One of my biggest revelations during my journey is that, although I was living like an extrovert, my essence is one of an introvert. I discovered that I am highly sensitive and empathetic. It was difficult for me to accept this because I associated introversion with shyness, weakness, and weirdness, but the more I felt into this truth about myself, the more I started to love the real me.

    My introversion taught me about the beauty of downtime. It helped me feel into my body and learn all the things she needed at any given time to feel relaxed and nourished.

    I realized I’d been living too fast, checking off lists, too busy “being productive” and making sure that I was pleasing everyone. But, I rarely checked in with myself to process my feelings, or to feel into what I really needed. I learned that I had abandoned my needs most of my life in the name of acceptance.

    Much of this process involves facing what we have denied to ourselves for so long. It is painful, but extremely powerful. The gold at the end of the rainbow: I feel more inspired, refreshed, and connected. That is the theme of my life.

    Connection.

    So, what are some of the lessons that you can expect when you say yes to soul work?

    Embrace your feelings—even the dark ones.

    You can’t be happy all the time. It’s not possible, so please do not try. Do not chase happiness.

    This beautiful universe is all about duality. How could you possibly love the light without experiencing the dark?

    You can’t. Because you would not have a reference point.

    And, what is the fastest path to the light?

    Feelings.

    They are the gateway to your soul.

    I’m not referring to your everyday emotions, which can feel like a rollercoaster at times. I’m talking about deep reflection. I am talking about the feelings that are trying to deliver messages to you all day long.

    The good. The bad. The ugly.

    An amazing mentor taught me one of the most powerful processes for releasing negative emotions.

    It just requires breathing and focus on the feeling. Once you feel the energy of an emotion, it shifts and moves as you breathe into it. There are so many insights that come to the surface when you remove the initial layer and make room for the expression of the pain.

    Once the veil of pain is removed, you reach a higher perspective, where you see any situation from a higher plane and not just with your limited human eyes.

    Ask yourself:

    What am I constantly thinking about that’s bringing me down?

    What do I long to release but haven’t been able to?

    Then ask your feelings:

    What are you here to teach me and breathe?

    Feel the feeling; breathe into it. Feel it shift and move inside of you.

    Listen. And then write whatever insights you receive. Do not judge yourself at any point. These are your feelings and they are real to you.

    When I asked these questions, I had to admit to myself that I was continually expecting people to behave and feel like me, and when that did not happen, I felt disappointed. This way of processing the world was bringing me down, so I reevaluated my relationships.

    I realized that I had resentment because I felt like I was a giver in most of my relationships. Why? Because over-giving stems from not checking in and slowing down. I stopped being only a giver. I learned how to receive. I started to express my feelings and most importantly, I started to feel into my needs and say yes to them.

    At first, it felt selfish, but then it became necessary. The more I connected with myself and learned about my true needs, the more available I was for deeper and more authentic connections with the world.

    Let your inner wisdom be your guide. It knows how to best navigate your life.

    We listen to opinions all day long, unconsciously and consciously. People with good intentions want to tell us how we should do things, or how we should feel, think, and act.

    While I personally believe that the universe delivers messages through others sometimes, the ultimate filter of your life must be your inner wisdom, that piece of unconditional love that guides you.

    This guidance is available to all of us.

    Ask yourself:

    What am I refusing to see?   

    What am I ignoring?  

    What am I hiding from myself?

    You may not get answers at first, but you will start to build a connection to your inner world.

    Our brains will always have a conditioned response to these questions, but when we breathe and feel into the answers, a new message may emerge for you. A new perspective may be shown to you.

    One of the biggest revelations for me when I asked these questions is that my true nature is one of a healer and someone who wants to help others heal and get in touch with their hearts. Although my entire life has been all about getting things done and building a career, my true nature is all about feeling and flowing. A very different energy than the one I was creating in my day-to-day life.

    There is no better place than here, than now.

    Being present is one of the most challenging tasks we can undertake, but if we want to transform, we need to learn to master the present. Otherwise, we are forever chasing the next thing.

    I am currently living a reality where I wish I was doing what I love full time, but apparently, I still have lessons to learn from my current day job. I stay present by being a light warrior all day, even in the courtroom. I shine my light everywhere, and I allow it to lead me.

    Although I am transitioning, it has been very challenging to stay present and bring my light to my day job, because the truth is that I want to be there, but I am here for now. But if I can be present here, I can be present anywhere. Because being present means that you are connected to your body.

    To stay present, every so often during the day ask yourself these questions (courtesy of Tosha Silver):

    Where am I?

    What am I doing right this minute? 

    Where has my mind taken me?

    And most importantly, am I breathing fully?

    Love your rest.

    This is huge. It’s essential to your health. Say no as often as possible in the name of rest!

    If my body does not feel like doing something, I honor that now instead of forcing myself to do things out of obligation or pressure. If I am tired and overwhelmed, I no longer have a problem retreating and declining to attend any events, including family commitments.

    At one point, I thought I needed to be everything to everyone. This led to my mini breakdown. While I still have certain obligations because that’s just life, I check in way more often now to feel into whether something is a yes or no.

    This takes some practice, so please be patient with yourself and do not expect everyone to understand your journey. It’s okay, we all have our own path. This is about what feels right to you.

    My new mantra is rest. refresh. repeat.

    The words that come out of your mouth when you’re angry or resentful are not the deep truth.

    Mental truth is reactive and layered with stories from past experiences. Mental truth is often wrapped in deep pain and insecurities.

    Your soul truth is the deeper truth that’s born from self-awareness and personal insight.

    For example, your mental truth may cause you to react to your partner by shouting at them or shutting down when they fail to come home at the time you expected. Your mental truth may make a million assumptions like, “They do not love me or they aren’t there for me ever or they are cheating on me.”

    If you can get to your soul truth, however, you may recognize that your feelings stem from past experiences and your assumptions lie in your own insecurities.

    Your soul truth may ask you to voice your concerns or speak to your partner instead of defaulting to anger or blame. Your truth may ask you to forgive yourself for any past experiences that hurt you.

    Your truth will always ask you to take responsibility for how you feel, and it will always encourage you to speak from your heart and inquire from the source if you are prone to making assumptions. Your truth will also warn you if something is off and will invite you to see things for what they are.

    Breathe and ask silently, put your hand on your heart and ask:

    What is my message about this situation?

     How can I see this differently?

    What is this moment trying to teach me?

    What is my inner truth showing me?

    Your truth will feel profound and anchored in love and wisdom.

    Creativity is the language of your soul.

    When I started to color and draw portraits from YouTube tutorials, I entered the magical world of the right brain. This is where the magic lives.

    Our left brains work hard to analyze and provide logic. Sometimes, this part of our brain can go into a loop because the logical part in us does not take into account our heart’s wisdom, nor does it take our feelings into consideration.

    The right brain is more intuitive and abstract. The right brain is creative. It’s a place where we feel and interpret events through our gut, colors, and senses.

    For example, if I were to express anger through my left brain, I would use words like “volatile,” “pissed off,” or “explosive.” If I were to describe anger using my right brain, I might say it looks like the color red and it feels tight in my chest.

    And if I ask my right brain what anger is here to teach me, most of the time, it will feel like the message is that I am not being honest with someone or myself (of course there are a million other reasons why one can feel anger).

    The right brain offers more depth. Being in my right brain has taught me to feel my body and the sensations and feelings, since these are messages and nudges from our inner wisdom.

    So it is important in order to reach equanimity, to find your creativity and call it forth. You will feel more connected and more centered. Find activities that do not require thinking so you can start to feel the difference.

    —

    As you embark on your own path, which begins with willingness and the realization that something is missing, you will undoubtedly say goodbye to who you thought you were and you will fall in love with the gift that you are.

    You may feel depleted some days, but for the most part you will experience a reorganization of your life and energy. You will feel like a child learning to see the world with new eyes. You will feel a deeper feeling of peace and happiness than you ever could have found by working through society’s list. This is soul work. Are you ready for it?

  • A Most Difficult Lesson: People Are Just Doing Their Best

    A Most Difficult Lesson: People Are Just Doing Their Best

    “People are doing the best that they can from their own level of consciousness.” ~Deepak Chopra

    My father passed away suddenly and not so suddenly several weeks back.

    He had been sick for a long time, but it was a gradually progressing illness and not what ultimately caused his passing. So, it did come as a shock, and the last few weeks have been filled with all the random things you need to do when someone dies—change the names on insurance policies and automobile titles, call social security, etc.

    The list seems endless, but now that the tasks are winding down, the silence that is settling in is leaving both my mom and I alone with our feelings.

    I knew this silence would come, and I dreaded it. I was afraid I’d think terrible thoughts about him, and that in turn would make me feel like a terrible person. It’s a long story…

    There’s no sugarcoating it: My dad was not a great father to me. He provided for our family and didn’t do drugs or drink. He bought us nice presents for the holidays. He did teach us a healthy respect for the rules. He also made it very clear he had a favorite child, and it wasn’t me.

    He wasn’t affectionate to me, and he once told me as a child that he wasn’t interested in me as a person because I wasn’t interested in what he liked to do, and he followed through with that by withdrawing from participation in my various childhood pursuits. He occasionally, though not often, beat me with his hands and objects.

    Nothing I did ever seemed to please him. When I got a job in addition to taking a full suite of university courses in high school (I was the only child of four who did that), he said I didn’t make enough money.

    When I got into the university of my choice (an elite one), he said I should have chosen a secular school, and the one and only time he visited (it wasn’t too far from our house), he said it was “full of crosses.” I cannot remember him ever saying he was proud of me.

    He was rarely affectionate with me, and he was loath to comment on my successes while he frequently reminded me of my failures and, above all, the expense I was costing him. The list of the scars I bear from my relationship with him could go on and on and on.

    So, though I have always had a problem with the phenomenon of people being beatified when they pass away, I feared not responding to his passing with compassion and instead being accosted by negative thoughts and feelings about him during the silence that followed.

    Silence of course invites in the ego, that often very negative voice in the head. I feared feeling and acting like an insensitive, ungrateful person and wondered how I would feel if my own family thought such things about me if I died.

    Like so many times when we face a spiritual test, I surprised myself. Once the initial shock and overwhelming grief I felt passed, I found that my disposition toward him was surprisingly kind.

    First and foremost, I just feel sorry for him—he suffered for a long time and died too young. Beyond that, I feel grateful for having him as a father because I know he did his very best, and I recall that as perhaps the most important lesson he taught me years before: people are always just doing the best they can.

    This lesson is a very difficult pill to swallow. Most everyone knows lying and stealing are wrong, and yet so many people do them anyway. Violence and aggression are among society’s universally believed wrong, and yet our world has way too much of them. In the grip of feeling oppressed or victimized, it’s almost impossible to hold this thought in our head—we’re too logical for that.

    But consider for a moment: That lady in the store knew that hurling invective at the cashier who couldn’t figure out the correct coupon code is impatient, unkind, and probably unreasonable. The guy on the road who cuts people off knows he doesn’t like it when people do that to him, and he knows his actions make a road accident more likely. They do it anyway. How can we even think they’re doing their best?

    One way is to think about it very cleanly: What would you say about someone who knows something to be wrong and yet cannot summon the self-control, patience, compassion, or whatever it may be to stop themselves from doing it?

    In that moment, the person is not conscious enough to refrain from the hurtful action. The person is not connected enough to identify with those his or her actions are harming. Something is holding that person back from showing up fully and achieving his or her full human potential for goodness.

    The maddening fact for those of us who skew to the hyper-logical side of the spectrum is that in 99.9% of cases, you’ll never know what that something is. In fact, no matter how well you know someone, the best you can do in terms of understanding his or her motives, subconscious thoughts and emotions driving behavior is an educated guess.

    However, I knew my dad as well as he allowed anyone to, and I was very familiar with his personal history, so I had a pretty good idea what those somethings holding him back were.

    He grew up in an abusive household, and his dad eventually abandoned his mom and him. He was poor. He lived in a tough inner-city neighborhood and was bullied terribly as a child.

    His mom was a cold and distrustful woman with few if any friends and estranged from almost her entire family. She relentlessly hounded him about his every dollar of expense.

    Not surprisingly, he carried the pain of this upbringing with him throughout his whole life, and he had no example of what good parenting looked like.

    Without that example and with all the wrong lessons and accumulated pain he carried, is it any surprise Dad had difficulty expressing affection?

    Given how little positivity and support he had growing up, how would he have known how to or even that he should have expressed those things to his family? With his mom being estranged from so many people, how could we not expect him as a child to have learned this as a normal state of affairs?

    Indeed, he struggled to improve on key parts of what was lacking in his childhood. He was singularly focused on materially providing for all his children—even after he strongly established his financial security—because he knew what it was like to be without material well-being.

    Though he definitely was abusive to me at times, this was something that was not a normal state of affairs in our household the way it was in his. Thus, the ways in which he was traumatized most reflected in his parenting, in some way for the better and in some for the worse. It must have been difficult for him.

    I can’t say that this realization came easily to me. It took time and distance and only came to me after I had left home for years, during which my time personal hurt gradually faded.

    As my life began to fall into place literally on the other side of the world, I saw from afar all the dysfunction unfolding in my family. Not only did I realize that I should be thankful I was removed from it, but I understood it was the best they could do.

    As an outsider in the family, I had observed the various inter-personal dynamics at work, and I could identify with how powerless and ill-equipped Dad must have felt to deal with all of it.

    This understanding gave me such peace and even empathy, and it freed me from my youthful anger and resentment toward them. Nevertheless, it was only years later when I had my own spiritual awakening that I fully understood the implications, universal applicability, and power of this lesson.

    But the truth is that you’ll never know most people that well, and even if you did, you may never even think you understand the ways in which they’ve been damaged. Some of the most unfortunate people are against all circumstances among the most joyful, while many of the wealthiest and most popular celebrities are miserable and lead tumultuous lives.

    The mind and the ego are capable of creating their own narratives, which their hosts typically completely identify with. We can never fully understand, but that’s just it—people themselves are rarely aware of their reasons for doing what they do and feeling what they feel.

    And there it is: People’s level of consciousness—their awareness of their own feelings and mind (i.e. their ego), as well as those of the people around them—determine how well they can see their own actions and behave with grace.

    Dad had a lot of accumulated pain, which had never been given voice, and he didn’t even realize it to be able to strive for better. What he did realize, for example the insecurity of poverty, he tried mightily and indeed succeeded in improving upon.

    Likewise, when I beat myself up for responding to others’ plight with coldness and distance, I need to remind myself that this was the model I had growing up, and unless an outside observer was really familiar with the dynamics of our family, there’s no way he or she would understand that about me.

    When I feel shame at failing to recognize others’ efforts and accomplishments, I need to remember that’s how I was raised. This was the next step I made after my spiritual awakening—I was able to broaden the whole “they’re doing their best” lesson to myself and others.

    And now the next step—the most challenging one—is to try and remember this each and every day.

    When faced with that lady yelling about the coupons or the guy who just cut you and four other people off as he sped down the highway, in the midst of your indignation, can you take a breath and remember that they’re doing their best?

    How do you know if that lady is maxed out on her credit cards or has a sick husband or just lost her job? Perhaps the angry driver is rushing home to see his sick son or has an anxiety disorder. Whatever the circumstances—and in these cases you’ll never know what those are—that is quite simply the best they can do in that very moment.

    When your coworker takes credit for your work and tries to hide it from you, can you accept that she’s operating from a place of pain or fear and that you will likely never understand what exactly that looks like?

    Knowing that the coworker is still doing his best doesn’t mean you can’t respond appropriately to right the situation, but can you do so from a state of compassion and not anger? If you can summon the empathy to do so, you’ll likely realize how much more effective your response will be.

    So, though it may annoy you to no end, you’ll never know how people process their own past and how that past is expressing itself in the present. In the grip of a terrible situation when you just want to wring someone’s neck, try to remember that. Moreover, when you find yourself remembering, give yourself credit. You may surprise yourself, as I just did with my father’s passing.

    I’m still grieving and will be for some time. The pain and fear my dad felt for so long… it just isn’t fair. He didn’t deserve that, just like I didn’t deserve my lonely childhood.

    None of us deserve what happens to us, right? We’re born innocent, and yet we all suffer through a lot, whether that be physical or emotional—totally in our own heads. Just try to remember that—we’re all in this together.

    Thanks, Dad for teaching me that lesson to live by, and so long.