Tag: self-critical

  • How I’m Winning Over My Inner Critic by Letting It Exist

    How I’m Winning Over My Inner Critic by Letting It Exist

    “Winning the war of words inside your soul means learning to defy your inner critic.” ~Steven Furtick

    We all have that voice in our head, the voice that’s always negative about ourselves. Our inner voice.  Our inner critic.

    The one that tells us we’re not good enough, not smart enough, not attractive enough. That voice that continuously compares us to other people, so we come up lacking and feeling less than.

    Sometimes that voice is our own. Other times, and for some people, maybe those of us who have felt unloved or disliked by a significant person in our lives, that voice belongs to them.

    Then there are times when that inner critic will take on the voice of multiple people. A parent, a past lover who jilted us, and an abusive boss, for example. It can be quite the party in our heads, and not always a good one!

    For a while, the voice in my head belonged to my mom.

    It became a lot more frequent after she passed away. And a lot more persistent. Her best times to chat with me were always during my morning and evening routines. 

    Why? I haven’t quite figured that out yet. Maybe it was because, during those times, especially with my morning ritual, I was prepping to present my best self to my world, doing my makeup and fixing up my hair. What better time to be critical, right?

    In the mornings as I prepared for the day, I heard how my skin care routine didn’t matter, I was going to get old anyway, and look old. The makeup I applied didn’t make me look any better. The affirmations I wrote on the bathroom mirror were stupid and useless.

    Anything I did to make myself better and healthier didn’t matter. I could never change, and I could never improve myself. Regardless of how much I tried, or how much effort I put in, I would never be good enough. Never enough period.

    At times, I think there was an undercurrent of jealousy. Maybe because I wanted to improve my life, that I wanted so much more from life. More than what she wanted for herself and for me.

    When she was alive, I definitely felt this was why she found so many faults with me and pointed out all my shortcomings. It would make sense, then, that any critical thoughts I had about myself could so easily be transferred to her image, and in her voice.

    I can understand those feelings and see why her feelings came out the way they did. Fears held her back from becoming more, from wanting more. And just possibly, those were my fears too, but now being heard via her voice. Fears of never really becoming who I want to be, of never being enough.

    Sometimes it’s easier to deal with our negative thoughts if we can make someone else responsible for them. Have someone else own them. It takes the burden off of me to change my thinking if I can tell myself these negative thoughts are coming from my mom.

    For a long time, during those morning and evening chats, I argued back. I got very defensive. And I felt like everything I was doing was useless and worthless. During those times it felt like she was right. That my inner critic was spot-on.

    Then one day I got quiet. Maybe I was exhausted with this daily dialogue. I don’t know. But I got quiet. I decided to just let her talk without reacting to what she said. No more arguing. I just smiled, a gentle unconcerned smile, and continued with my routine.

    I let everything that was being said just sit in the space around us. I heard it but didn’t take it in.

    My intention now was to observe. I wasn’t belittling her feelings by ignoring her, I just simply observed and let her talk, giving her voice the space to speak and to be heard. Periodically, I responded with something like, “Yeah, I can see why you think that.”

    For a while this became the style of our regular chats. The new dialogue that the voice in my head was speaking. The negative remarks, the catty remarks, and the put-downs, all drawing a quiet and unconcerned smile, with no negative response from me.

    Before long it changed again. My mom-in-my-head, instead of chastising me for wasting my efforts, became inquisitive. The voice started making positive remarks about the products I used and the affirmations I wrote on the mirror. She became curious. That voice started asking positive questions, empowering questions. Questions that were now on my side—with me, not against me.

    It’s very possible that the reason my inner voice, my inner critic, has taken on the voice of my mom is that I still very much want the approval from her that I felt I never received while she was alive. I will never actually get it now that she is gone, and that’s something I have to accept. But this may be another way that I can maybe feel like I get it, even just a little.

    Perhaps it’s how I can get the approval from myself that I’m seeking too. The belief that I am indeed becoming the person I want to be. That I am indeed enough.

    I’m reminded of this saying, “We can’t control how other people act; we can only control our own reaction.”

    Sure, this inner voice is mine, maybe sounding like someone I know. And one would think we can control our inner voices. But if it were only as easy as that, no one would ever struggle with self-doubt, and at times self-loathing.

    Learning to control that inner voice is like controlling a temper-tantrum-filled two-year-old. Eventually do-able, but it takes herculean effort!

    The method that’s currently working for me is to let that voice speak. Meeting it with a gentle smile and letting it flow around me, without landing on me. Being observant but unconcerned. 

    Over and over, as long as it takes. Because soon that inner voice will be curious about what’s happening with me, what’s working for me, what it is that is bringing me such peace.

    Perhaps the same is true for you. Maybe instead of trying to make your inner critic go away, you just need to let it exist. When you observe your self-critical thoughts without fighting or attaching to them, you take a little of their power away. And maybe as you take your power back your inner voice will slowly transform into something softer, gentler, and on your side, because it can finally see it’s a good place to be.

  • How I Overcame the Stress of Perfectionism by Learning to Play Again

    How I Overcame the Stress of Perfectionism by Learning to Play Again

    “What, then, is the right way of living? Life must be lived as play…” ~Plato

    I am a recovering perfectionist, and learning to play again saved me.

    Like many children, I remember playing a lot when I was younger and being filled with a sense of openness, curiosity, and joy toward life.

    I was fortunate to grow up in Oregon with a large extended family with a lot of cousins with whom I got to play regularly. We spent hours, playing hide-and-seek, climbing trees, drawing, and building forts.

    I also attended a wonderful public school that encouraged play. We had regular recess, and had all sorts of fun equipment like stilts, unicycles, monkey bars, and roller skates to play with. In class, our teachers did a lot of imaginative and artistic activities with us that connected academics with a sense of playfulness.

    I viewed every day as an exciting opportunity and remember thinking, “You just never know what is going to happen.” My natural state was to be present with myself, enjoying the process of play

    Unfortunately, my attitude began shifting from playfulness to perfectionism early on. Instead of being present and enjoying process, I started focusing on performance (mainly impressing people) and product (doing everything right). The more I did this, the less open, curious, and joyful I was.

    Instead, I grew anxious, critical, and discouraged.

    I first remember developing perfectionist tendencies when I was in elementary school and taking piano lessons. For some reason, I got the idea that I had to perform songs perfectly, or else I was a failure.

    Eventually I became so anxious, I would freeze up while playing in recitals. I started hating piano, which I once had loved, and eventually quit.

    My perfectionism spread into other areas of my life, too. In school, I pushed myself to get straight A’s, and if I earned anything less, I felt like a failure. I often missed out on the joy of learning because I was so worried about getting things right.

    My perfectionism also negatively impacted my relationship with myself. I believed I had to look perfect all the time. As a result, I often hated the way I looked, rather than learning to appreciate my own unique appearance and beauty. I also remembering turning play into exercise at this time of my life and using it to pursue the “perfect” body.

    Movement, which I loved when I was a child, began to feel exhausting and punishing.

    Perfectionism also hurt my relationships with other people. I felt like I had to be smooth and put together and that I always had to put everyone else’s needs above my own. Not surprisingly, I often felt unconfident, anxious, and exhausted around other people.

    At this time in my life, I believed that if I tried and worked hard enough, I could do everything right, look perfect, and make everyone happy.

    My perfectionism increased in young adulthood until eventually it became unsustainable. In my early thirties, I became the principal of a small, private middle school where I had taught for eight years. I loved the school and was devoted to it.

    In many ways, I was the ideal person to do the job. But I was also young and inexperienced, and I made some big mistakes early on. I also made some decisions that were good and reasonable decisions that, for various reasons, angered a lot of people.

    To complicate matters, the year I became middle school principal, the school underwent a massive change in our school’s overall leadership, and we suffered a tragic death in the community. I worked as hard as I could to help my school through this difficult time, but things felt apart.

    My school, which had largely been a happy and joyful place, suddenly became filled with fighting, suspicion, and stress. These events were largely beyond my control and were not the fault of any one person, but I blamed myself. For someone who had believed her whole life that if she worked hard enough, she could avoid making mistakes and could make people happy, my job stress felt devastating.

    I felt like my life was spinning out of control and that all the rules that once worked no longer applied. I crashed emotionally, and I remember telling my husband at this time, “I will never be happy again.”

    That was one of the darkest times of my life.

    It took me several years to find happiness again. One of the major things that helped me to do so was recovering a sense of playfulness.

    After my emotional crash, I decided I was done with perfectionism. I understood clearly that focusing so much on avoiding mistakes and pleasing-people was the source of much of my suffering. 

    I realized I needed a different way to approach life.

    About this time, my friend Amy and I started taking fencing lessons together. I was quite bad at it, but it didn’t matter. Because I had given up perfectionism, I didn’t care anymore about impressing people at fencing class or performing perfect fencing moves.

    Instead, I cared about being present with myself in the process and staying open and curious, and focusing on joy.

    I had a blast. I felt free and alive, and something flickered to life inside me that had felt dormant for many years. I felt playful again. And I realized that I had been missing playfulness for many years, and that it was part of what had caused me to become so perfectionistic.

    Playfulness is the attitude we take toward life when we focus on presence and process with attitudes of openness, curiosity, and joy. Perfectionism, on the other hand, makes us focus on performance and product and encourages anxiety, criticalness, and discouragement.

    Fencing helped me rediscover play and leave perfectionism behind.

    I fully embraced my newfound playful attitude. It touched every area of my life, and I hungered for new adventures. I began reconnecting with dreams I had put on hold for a while. Eventually I decided to leave my job as a middle school principal and return to graduate school to earn my PhD in philosophy, a goal I’d had since seventh grade.

    Earning a PhD in philosophy may not seem like a very playful thing to do, but it was for me. For six years, I immersed myself in the ideas of great thinkers like Plato, Aristotle, Kant, Hegel, Rousseau, Herbert Marcuse, and Paulo Freire.

    It felt like I was playing on a big, philosophical playground. But I also faced some significant challenges.

    I was thirty-seven when I returned to grad school and was a good ten to fifteen years older than most of my colleagues. Most of them had a B.A. and even an M.A. in philosophy, while I had only taken one philosophy course in college. I had a lot of catching up to do, and I faced some major challenges.

    One of the biggest challenges I faced early on was our program’s comprehensive exams. We had two major exams over thousands of pages of some of the hardest philosophical works ever written. The exams were so difficult that at one point, they had over a fifty percent fail rate. If students didn’t pass them by the third time, the graduate school kicked them out of the program.

    I was determined to pass these comps and spent all my Christmas and summer breaks studying for them for the first several years of graduate school. But I still failed both exams the first time I took them, and I failed my second exam twice.

    It isn’t surprising I failed them, given the high fail rate for the exams and the fact that I was still learning philosophy. But it was painful. I had worked so hard, and I was afraid of getting kicked out of the program.

    I was tempted to revert to my old perfectionist habits because they had once given me a sense of control. But I knew that would lead me down a dead-end road. So, I began applying all the lessons I had learned about playfulness to the comprehensive exams.  

    Rather than focusing on performance and the product, I focused on presence and process. I also focused on practicing habits of openness, curiosity, and joy. Mentally, I compared the comps to shooting an arrow into the bull’s eye of a target. Every test, even if I failed it, was a chance to check my progress, readjust, and get closer to the bull’s eye.

    This turned the comprehensive exams into a game, and it lessened the pain of failing them. It helped me accept failure as a normal part of the process and to congratulate myself every time I made progress, no matter how small it was. This attitude also helped me focus on proactive, constructive steps I could take to do better, like meeting with faculty members or getting tutoring in areas I found especially challenging. (Aristotle’s metaphysics, anyone?)

    I also taught myself to juggle during this time. Juggling not only relieved stress, it was also a playful bodily reminder to me that progress takes time. Nobody juggles perfectly the first time they try. Juggling takes time and patience, and the more we focus on openness, curiosity, and the joy of juggling, the more juggling practice feels like a fun game. 

    I began thinking of passing my comps like juggling, and it helped me be more patient with the process. I eventually mastered the material and passed both my comps.

    Studying for the comps taught me to bring playfulness into all my work in graduate school.

    Whenever I felt stressed out in my program, I reminded myself that perfectionism was a dead-end road, and that playfulness was a much better approach. Doing this helped me relax, be kind to myself, accept failures as part of the learning process, and to take small consistent steps to improve.

    This playful attitude kept me sane and helped me make it to the finish line.

    Playfulness was so helpful for me in graduate school that I have tried to adopt this spirit of playfulness in all areas of my life, including the college classrooms in which I teach. I have noticed that whenever I help students switch from perfectionism to playfulness, they immediately relax, are kinder to themselves, and increase their ability to ask for help.

    I am dedicated now to practicing playfulness every day of my life and to help others do the same. Playfulness isn’t something we must leave behind in childhood. It is an attitude we can bring with us our whole life. When we do so, life becomes an adventure, even during difficult times, and there is always something more to learn, explore, and savor.

  • 5 Things to Remember When You Feel Disgusted by How You Look

    5 Things to Remember When You Feel Disgusted by How You Look

    “Your face will change. Your body will change. The only kind of beauty that endures is the kind that lives in your heart.” ~Lori Deschene

    How many times have you hidden away from the world when you felt ashamed by your appearance?

    How many invitations have you turned down because you felt disgusted by the way you look?

    And how many times have you gazed into the bathroom mirror and thought, “Why, in my brief existence on this planet, does it have to be me?”

    Seeing your reflection in the mirror is like a physical pain. It’s not just one part of your life. It’s obsessive. It consumes your every waking moment.

    Then you start feeling envy toward beautiful people. Wrath at whatever higher being there is for not making you one of them. Pride in your strengths whenever you see someone who looks worse than you. Self-loathing and blaming your treacherous genes for giving you an odd face, an imperfect shape, a visible health condition.

    For me, it was my skin.

    I was cursed by a chronic illness that regularly causes rashes all over my body, and sometimes even on my face.

    I can’t count how many times I cried over it. Sometimes from the pain. Sometimes from the itch. Too many times from people’s looks of revulsion or their unkind words.

    The borderline shallowness of many people who never bothered to open a book whose cover they didn’t like was painful and grating.

    My insecurity was like an open wound and my self-esteem was at rock bottom. I felt like a target, a second-class citizen with few rights to have dreams, hopes, or success.

    I perfected the art of avoiding mirrors and cameras, bought extra clothes to cover my skin, and learned how to keep my head down to avoid eye contact. I was terrified of social situations and worried that people would look at me in disgust.

    Every single comment could shatter my fragile confidence.

    The hopelessness and soul-crushing feeling of not looking pretty enough made me want to roll the duvet over my head in the mornings and not come out.

    Thinking that you’ll never be happy because of your looks is the most gut-wrenching thing. It’s isolating. It’s maddening. It’s frustrating and a thousand other things.

    We’re living in an appearance-saturated society that tells us that our likeability is dependent on being attractive. The diet culture, beauty industry, media—they all convey that beauty equals perfection.

    In today’s digital age, it’s easy to create a façade with carefully chosen photos and posts that lie through omission.

    But deep down, you know the truth.

    You can’t ignore it.

    The world doesn’t let you.

    Advertisements and magazine covers all remind you of how imperfect you are. Beauticians love to point out your flaws to sell you more products.

    It’s not until you decide to wear your imperfect look as a form of armor that you become comfortable in your own skin. People’s looks no longer intimidate you. Hurtful words don’t steal your sleep. You fall in love with yourself.

    It’s a journey toward acceptance. And the journey is liberating.

    We all face challenges in accepting who we are and how we look. But the truth is that, cliché as it may sound, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

    It’s not what’s on the surface. It’s what’s inside you.

    Here are some of the things that helped me on my journey toward self-acceptance.

    1. You can make peace with the parts of you that you hate.

    Accepting that you don’t like everything about your body is the first step toward having a more positive frame of mind. It’s about acknowledging that you may feel “meh” about some parts of your body, but not letting that stop you from doing things you want to do.

    You’re probably thinking, “Yeah, right, but what about my stomach pooch?”

    Well, what about it? It’s there. You’re not perfect, and that’s okay.

    Often we forgo pleasure because we feel we don’t deserve it. Somehow simple parts of living become unobtainable “rewards.” Maybe you won’t let yourself hit the beach unless you get into a certain shape, or you can’t get married unless you drop the weight, or maybe you can’t buy new clothes until you’re a few pounds lighter.

    It sounds crazy when you say it out loud, but that’s how a lot of us think.

    So be kind to yourself. Be gentle and remind yourself of all the other things that you love about yourself.

    Give yourself permission to accept that some parts of your body may not be your favorite thing. You won’t always love every part of your body. However, you can still love your life even on the days you can’t love your belly.

    You’re certainly not alone in your struggle toward body acceptance. I could give you a laundry list of things I don’t like about my body.

    However, this is the body you were given. It’s the only body you were given. So it might be time to make peace with it.

    2. Everyone feels unattractive at times.

    We all have moments of weakness when we view everything through a negative filter, and the voice in our head becomes critical and unloving. Times when we feel ugly and unattractive. All of us. You. Me. Your best friend.

    Days when you look at yourself in the mirror and don’t see anything positive. You don’t see the loving spouse, the caring mother, the wonderful son, the understanding friend. You don’t see the wisdom in old age wrinkles, the power in stretch marks, and the beauty in your body curves.

    Instead, you just see . . . blah. Gross. Unlovable. Disgusting.

    In those moments of self-doubt, pause and ask yourself these questions: Is my mood affecting the way I’m feeling about my looks? Have I been getting enough sleep and fresh air? Have I been eating well and moving my body frequently? Self-care is so important because your mirror image is simply a manifestation of your positive energy.

    3. Media-defined ideals of beauty aren’t real.

    For years, the world of media has been trying to construct a sparkling image of what an ideal man and an ideal woman should look like. From television shows to commercials to magazine advertisements to celebrity culture, mainstream media has been reinforcing the notion that you only look beautiful if you have a toned body, perfect hair, and flawless skin.

    But the reality is that you just don’t.

    Why? Because the image of perfection doesn’t exist. It’s superficial. It’s unattainable. Even models themselves don’t look like their photoshopped, heavily edited images. No wonder you come up short whenever you compare yourself to celebrities and models on magazine covers.

    The pressure of looking perfect weighs you down. You begin to think that you aren’t beautiful enough, are too fat, too small, too whatever. All that to say that you’re not good enough.

    That’s, at least, what the beauty industry wants you to believe. If you feel inadequate about your looks, you’re more likely to buy whatever fix the ads are selling. Making you uncomfortable with your body sells – whether it’s a weight loss plan, fashion, or a beauty product.

    Are you going to change society’s definition of beauty? No. However, you can change your own. Don’t focus on the beauty you see in ads; focus on the beauty you see in the real-life people you admire.

    4. Your reflection doesn’t define you.

    The sum of who you are—your thoughts, beliefs, hopes, dreams, feelings—is much greater than what meets the eye of an observer who doesn’t know you. All those things about you are the force that draws others to you.

    You might have heard the saying that an ugly personality destroys the face. Well, I happen to agree with that 100%.

    Sometimes you hear somebody speak with kindness and compassion, and you perceive them as beautiful. However, it’s not their outer appearance you’re drawn to. It’s their inner depth, a kind of beauty that can’t be inherited, photoshopped, or surgically attained.

    I know many people who aren’t the most attractive, but their energy, joy, and positivity is so contagious that it’s hard not to have them around.

    So think about what brings you joy. Do things you like. Make your self-esteem contingent on inner, not outer, qualities. After all, a positive attitude brings more friendships than looks do.

    5. Your perception becomes your reality.

    If you feel beautiful, it will transcend your physical attributes.

    Think about the story you’re living right now. Did you consciously decide to create it, or was it shaped by your parents, your friends, or perhaps even the media?

    From the time you were born, you’ve received both positive and negative messages from your surroundings. All those messages create your belief system. You act on those messages as if they’re true until you believe them to be true. They become your reality. They give you your identity.

    Every time you say “I am,” you are telling a story about yourself. When your story takes on a life of its own, you become it. But who wrote that story? And why is there so much criticism and low self-esteem in there?

    Rewrite it. Take control of the pen and write the story you want.

    Let Yourself Be You

    Next time you notice that inner critic of yours attacking your appearance, catch it.

    Take a deep breath and ask yourself if you can release it.

    I’m not talking about making it spit out positive, self-loving affirmations that don’t feel authentic and real to you. I’m talking about the soft, embracing energy of acceptance.

    I’ve learned to cultivate self-worth apart from my appearance. I take pride in my talents, skills, intelligence, and caring heart. When my perfectionist self wants to critique not only my appearance, but also everything I do, I remind myself of those qualities.

    When you open up to all parts of yourself, you will feel lighter. As you rewrite your story and let yourself be you, the many facets of your beautiful self will shine.

    It’s a practice of making peace with what is. And you can make it happen within yourself.

    It’s an ongoing journey that feels liberating.

  • How to Tame Your Inner Critic: A Simple Habit to Rewire Your Brain

    How to Tame Your Inner Critic: A Simple Habit to Rewire Your Brain

    “I acknowledge my own worth. My confidence is growing.” ~Unknown

    Sometimes I feel like a spider whose web is repeatedly torn down. I plan something and start taking action. Then life happens, and setbacks threaten to sap my energy and enthusiasm.

    Whenever I take on too much, I can feel as if I’m juggling a million balls. And doing it badly.

    You’ve probably seen T-shirts saying, “Things are a bit crazy around here.” That could easily describe me when I allow myself to become overloaded.

    It’s easy to feel stressed and to slip into harsh self-criticism. Especially when I hold myself to unrealistic perfectionism or get swept away by impatience. Or when I start comparing myself to others who seem to be in a better space.

    But all’s not lost. I love to keep learning. That keeps me hopeful about finding solutions, no matter what the problem.

    I keep identifying and adopting simple science-based actions that yield big payoffs for well-being. The simpler the practice, the more easily it fits into my busy life.

    So, what can be done when life gets too stressful and setbacks lead to harsh self-criticism?

    The Tug of War in Your Brain

    Until relatively recently, scientists believed that the brain could not develop beyond a certain age. The adult brain could not change, it was thought, apart from gradually shrinking from your late twenties onward. So, if your brain habitually criticized and demotivated you, then that was how you’d remain.

    That view is simply mistaken, as science has discovered. Your brain can develop, even during adulthood.

    There’s hope for us all, provided we start respecting ourselves enough to practice self-care.

    How would you like to start rewiring your harshly self-critical brain using a simple five-second habit? I’ll share a transformational habit I’ve adopted, but first let’s understand this a bit more. Once you understand why a practice works, it’s easier to make it part of your life.

    Stress and negativity do remarkable things to your brain. When stress overwhelms you enough to keep your mood constantly low, your brain starts to gradually change. The core component of your brain, the grey matter, grows less dense in some helpful parts of your brain. But it grows denser in some self-critical parts.

    It’s almost as if there’s a tug of war between these two parts. An overdose of stress weakens the helpful parts, allowing the self-critical parts to dominate.

    That’s the bad news. Fortunately, there’s good news.

    Your brain can keep developing, and the unhelpful changes can be reversed. You have “stem cells,” so named because they can develop into various types of new brain cells. Also, new connections can develop between the cells in your brain.

    You can encourage such helpful developments by the actions and thoughts you embrace. In effect, you can assist your brain to keep developing in a helpful way.

    Before I describe the simple but powerful five-second practice, there’s a story I want to share. It will help illustrate how the practice works.

    My Story

    I had once accumulated a lot of weight, was on statin treatment for high cholesterol levels, and couldn’t shed the excess weight despite regularly exercising. I attributed this to being over forty. I knew I was on a conveyor belt headed for a coronary bypass operation or heart attack and was keen to escape.

    Then a noticeably trim classmate from my medical school visited us and ate surprisingly small portions of some things but surprisingly large portions of others. They too were over forty years old. What did they know that I didn’t?

    Health and well-being are, to me, priceless treasures. People often destroy their well-being in desperate pursuit of material things. They can end up ill, sometimes forfeiting even the material things they craved.

    I didn’t want to be yet another person sleepwalking toward a heart attack. I decided to investigate the secrets of staying trim despite middle age. I was strongly motivated, and in a helpful way.

    There were many challenges. I needed to grapple with the scientific literature, to untangle the conflicting information about how to eat well.

    My other big challenge was that I love delicious food, especially when eating in company. I was wary of solutions that took all the enjoyment out of food, or tended to isolate me from friends and family.

    Eventually I found an approach that transformed my health for good, but the details are for another time. The point here is that I had many setbacks and failures along the way. Despite the setbacks, I succeeded in permanently reducing my waist circumference by several inches and no longer need the statin treatment.

    There’s one practice that helped me, more than anything else, to recover after setbacks. It’s so stupidly simple that its power easily can be underestimated.

    But it works, as long as it’s practiced consistently.

    I call it REBS. You’ll discover why.

    REBS Tames Your Harsh Inner Critic

    When I was a young child, I was fascinated by orderly lines of ants. I spent ages observing them and perversely enjoyed drawing a stick or finger across the line. That would confuse the ants, and chaos would ensue.

    However, in a little while, the line would form once again. The ants recovered and resumed doing what was important in their lives.

    Let’s say you decide that something is important in your life and you plan how to act accordingly. Perhaps, like me, you’re keen on avoiding a heart attack and you decide to start eating better. Let’s say you’re armed with the relevant knowledge and know exactly what to do.

    You start out enthusiastically, until a setback happens. Perhaps someone presents you with a box of your favorite chocolates.

    Before you know it the chocolates are somehow all out of the box and inside you. Within half an hour! Many people might consider that a triumph, but let’s say that you consider it a setback.

    This is a crucial moment. What do you do? Start criticizing yourself?

    What if, instead, you treat this setback as a temporary blip? You focus on resuming your journey of eating well. When you sit down for your next nourishing meal, you accept your stumble but congratulate yourself for getting back on track.

    Even when you don’t stumble and fall, you keep congratulating yourself for each small advance. Each nourishing meal, in this context, becomes a small triumph and an occasion for self-congratulation. Each half-hour without grazing on snacks becomes another small triumph and another occasion for self-congratulation.

    Imagine rewarding yourself for every small advance, with a quick self-congratulatory phrase. Especially when you get back on track after a setback.

    You can, in this way, create a steady stream of self-congratulation that is based on real advances. You don’t settle for empty words. Instead, you acknowledge and celebrate doing each small step, which carries you in your chosen direction.

    When your mind is busy with this reality-based self-congratulation, there’s less room for harsh self-criticism, or brutal perfectionism, or comparing yourself to others. You start to transform your self-image and self-confidence.

    I call this practice REBS, short for reality-based self-congratulation. It’s a rebellion against your harsh inner critic, who can otherwise be a demotivating tyrant. It helps the self-respecting part of you to prevail over the harshly self-critical part of you.

    You start to unleash the self-repairing power of your brain, even as you transform your self-image.

    Setbacks become an opportunity for you to recover and practice REBS. The more you do this, the harder it becomes for setbacks and stress to keep you down.

    Which self-congratulatory phrase could you use? The simplest is probably “I’m doing this, I’m okay.” Your “it” can be the smallest meaningful step imaginable, such as sitting down for a healthy meal.

    Keep this practice firmly based in reality, anchored to your small helpful steps. Then you’ll be able to do it meaningfully and with conviction. But do it at every opportunity, no matter how small your triumph.

    In summary: Take a meaningful small step, then treat yourself to a quick dose of REBS (reality-based self-congratulation). Repeat, and keep going.

    Suffered a setback? Pick yourself up, resume your journey with the next small step, and treat yourself to a quick dose of REBS.

    Is This Relevant to Other Situations?

    I used my experience with eating well as an example. But we could apply this to a wide variety of situations.

    If you feel worn out from taking care of others and have forgotten how to take care of yourself, then your small step can be as simple as listing your own needs.

    If you’re a recovering workaholic, then your small step can be as simple as taking a short walk, or meditating for a few minutes, or freeing up an evening for playful relaxation with your partner.

    If you’re a sales manager who’s just lost a big deal, then your small step can be as simple as identifying the next good prospect.

    If you’re a doctor or health care professional overwhelmed by the demands on your time, or complaints from patients, then your small step can be as simple as taking a short break to regain perspective and consider your options.

    If you’re a business owner trying to cope with unhelpful staff or business partners, then your small step can be as simple as choosing the most important points you want to communicate to them.

    If you’re scurrying around at work like a headless chicken, then your small step can be as simple as putting other tasks aside and focusing on just one important task in your long list.

    If you’re confused about some decision, then your small step can be as simple as listing your options, in order to consider the pros and cons before choosing.

    If you applied for a better job but didn’t get it, then your small step can be as simple as listing other opportunities.

    If you have a disabling illness, then your small step can be very small indeed. It might be as simple as getting out of bed, or walking a few paces without a stick, or contacting a friend.

    If you’ve had a bitter argument with your partner or child, then your small step can be as simple as reaching out with a gesture of reconciliation. And so on.

    You decide what actions are good, helpful and important in your life at this time.

    This practice can be applied in all areas of your life: personal, family and home life, community life, work life etc.

    The Payoff

    We all make unwise choices and experience setbacks. Your harsh inner critic can sometimes make you feel worthless and unlovable. REBS (reality-based self-congratulation) allows you to rebel against the tyranny of that inner critic.

    It reminds you that you’re always worthy of respect, love, and forgiveness. Even when you stumble—and especially when you stumble.

    Is this simple five-second practice the answer to all life’s problems and challenges? Of course not. Does your brain get rewired immediately? Of course not, it takes consistent practice. REBS needs to become a habit.

    Do you still have to decide what really matters to you, make plans, and solve problems? Of course you do.

    But REBS is a very useful companion on your journey. That’s because it takes almost no time, yet works powerfully to help you grow out of overly harsh self-criticism. You start to respect and take care of yourself.

    Instead of brooding over setbacks, you begin treating each setback as a springboard for small helpful steps, accompanied by self-congratulation.

    You become less easily discouraged. In a subtle way, you become almost unstoppable in pursuit of whatever you value deeply. Your perseverance starts to resemble that of determined ants who re-form a broken line, or of a spider who resumes spinning a destroyed web.

    Success is no longer confined to the distant future. Instead, it starts to inhabit each meaningful small step that you take in your chosen direction.

    You start to rewire your brain. Your inner critic starts to transform into a helpful cheerleader. Instead of a constant stream of negative self-talk, you start to enjoy a steady flow of self-congratulation.

    Your confidence grows, and your life starts to become more meaningful, fulfilling and joyful.

    This practice of reality-based self-congratulation (REBS) costs virtually nothing. It requires only consistency, so that the helpful new neurons and connections in your brain become well established.

    A surprising benefit is that REBS pulls me into the present moment. Instead of brooding over past failures or fearing future uncertainties, I focus increasingly on a small step that carries me in my chosen direction.

    REBS has helped transform my life. I have a clearer head and feel more at peace, others often remark that I’m now much more fun to be with, and I’m better off in almost every way. Despite all my flaws and the frequent, inevitable setbacks of life, I’m constantly reminded that I’m okay.

    Simple science-based practices with outsize benefits appeal to me because I’m so busy. REBS is one of my favorites among the life-enriching practices I’ve tried and adopted. I love how the practice can be started straight away, and become a treasured, self-empowering part of life.

    Conclusion

    Whatever the setbacks or failures you’ve experienced, whatever unhelpful choices you’ve made, you’re still okay, you’re always worthy of respect and love.

    We all need a bit of understanding and mercy. REBS turns you into a more forgiving and encouraging friend to yourself. It lets the seeds of success be planted in the soil of defeat.

    It helps reduce the chaos of a challenging life to a helpful small step, accompanied by self-congratulation.

    You might want to start this five-second practice and make it a habit. You could start right away and experience the difference.

  • Be Happier with What Is by Letting Go of How Things Should Be

    Be Happier with What Is by Letting Go of How Things Should Be

    Embrace the Moment

    “What you do today can improve all your tomorrows.” ~Ralph Marston

    Have you ever been stuck and felt like you’re spiraling around the same space over and over? It’s just like Groundhog Day.

    Every day, you have new intentions about how it will be different only to be left with the same hollow feelings at the end of the day.

    You feel sadness for the dreams of what could have been and maybe even what should have been.

    At forty-five I found myself unexpectedly in this place, stuck like my feet were almost tied to the ground. All the usual ways of getting through it weren’t working.

    I couldn’t run away from it. I couldn’t push through it. I couldn’t go around it. I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there.

    It just was there. It wouldn’t budge.

    I felt overwhelmed and burned out, and no books, courses, or friend’s advice seemed to have an effect.

    I just kept coming back to the same point of inertia, always left sitting on the edge of my power.

    I had this nagging doubt that as a coach I should know better and somehow be exempt from the stories of resentment, blame, self-criticism, imperfection, and failure that chattered away in the background of my mind. As if I shouldn’t have a low mood because surely I should have figured this one out by now.

    They say the only way out is through and that was definitely true for me.

    I reached a point where I just had to be in the center of my experience and be with the vulnerability that I was so desperately skirting around the edge of.

    It happened by chance while I was on an early morning run with the dog.

    It was a fresh, crisp autumn morning, the kind where the blueness of the sky just takes your breath away. My feet were soaking from the wet grass and I was struck by how warm the sunshine was on my face.

    I felt the impulse to stop running, sit down on a bench, and close my eyes. I followed my breath and imagined that I was breathing in the sunshine through the top of my head, down into my body, and then out down through the soles of my feet. Then, I reversed it.

    I sat doing this, and suddenly out of nowhere an image came up. It was a life plan that I’d written many years back when I was stuck in my last corporate job and trying to figure a way out. 

    It was on one piece of paper and it had my ages moving up to the age of sixty (anything beyond was considered bonus), alongside my husband’s and kids’. There weren’t many specific landmarks other than the when the kids would take their exams and some dreams I had to run my own business.

    What struck me as I saw this image in front of me was how perfected it was.

    There were implicit assumptions that I could suddenly see clearly displayed in front of my eyes. There I was through all these ages, the perfect earth mother, always patient, creative, consistent, kind, and loving. 

    I was a role model holding down a career, coaching, writing, running a successful business, and making a difference in the world. I juggled and balanced with grace and ease. I was a gorgeous wife who looked great, handled all the household stuff without complaint, and was still able to be a sexy goddess.

    I never lost my temper or argued. I travelled and adventured through life, felt good about myself, and experienced peace and happiness.

    I was perfect in every way and got things right all the time.

    Staying with the breath I noticed that I felt really emotional. The emotion was sadness, and for once I allowed myself to be with it. I just sat with my dog sitting next to me on this bench, in the middle of nature, with a mixture of sunshine and tears on my face.

    About five minutes passed and I felt a shift. I had an intense clarity that what was keeping me stuck was the tightly held grip I had on how I believed it all should be.

    The perfected image that I was holding for my life that was causing me to push against who I truly am. The incessant push to keep improving myself and be anything other than who I actually am.

    You see, my real life is messy and very imperfect.

    As a mother I’m spontaneous, which often means I’m not consistent and I prickle and get impatient when we don’t attend to the routine things, like homework or tidying up. I get frustrated when it feels like everyone else is making demands and my needs don’t feature.

    I often feel like I’m caught in a system where I believe my girls need to be children, discover their passion, and follow their own light spots; but they’re in a school system and culture that believes and reinforces that you need to be above average in everything and learn information that feels irrelevant to them.

    I want to praise but I catch myself criticizing when it all piles up and I feel overwhelmed.

    I know I open and close my heart in my relationships, and I’m only just beginning to get my head around this whole notion of unconditional love.

    Our house moves from being neat and tidy to disorganized and cluttered.

    One of the most regular arguments is about where the car keys are and why there’s no petrol in the car and how there’s no time to fill up on the way to drop the kids at school!

    These two images—the perfected and the reality—were where my struggle came from.

    Every time I bumped up against the perfected image of how I thought I should have been as opposed to how I am, I got twitchy and self-sabotaged by being self-critical and creating my inertia. 

    It was easier to reach to be anything other than who I am because it reinforced the old familiar story that I am not enough as I am.

    It’s this insight that helps me to release and let it go.

    What’s left in its place is the reality of my imperfection.

    I now see how my desire to be perfect has me lose the very thing that I’m seeking, which is to feel happy and at peace with myself.

    The real work, my soul’s work, is to stand in the center of myself and open up the vulnerable part of me that’s scared I really am not enough to make the difference I want to in the world.

    The part of me that reaches to be shinier, bolder, smarter, and any other “er” that could help. The part of me that worries I repeat patterns and don’t get it right as a mum. The part of me that so desperately wants to be enough and perfect, which has me react against others that display the perfected image I think I should be. The part of me that feels scared and alone and so separates rather than leans in.

    To listen to my soul calling requires me to begin the work of self-acceptance and self-compassion and change my old story of not being enough.

    It requires me to let go of needing my work and life to look and be a certain way, and instead be present to how it is now and what wants to unfold.

    What I did on that day will improve my tomorrows because I learned to open up my vulnerability, lean into the emotion, be with it, and see it as guidance.

    The sadness was there to move me and as soon as I stopped avoiding it, I could hear its wisdom.

    Your vulnerability is your biggest permission slip to change your tomorrows. It’s the doorway in to what you’re seeking. It doesn’t make you weak. It gives you strength. It helps you see your limiting story and find your empowering one.

    Photo by Hartwig HKD