Tiny Buddha

Tag: transformation

  • How Two Simple Lists Completely Transformed My Life

    How Two Simple Lists Completely Transformed My Life

    “Happiness turned to me and said, ‘It is time. It is time to forgive yourself for all of the things you did not become… Above all else, it is time to believe, with reckless abandon, that you are worthy of me, for I have been waiting for years.” ~Bianca Sparacino

    I didn’t know who I was.

    That realization hit me like a punch to the chest after I ended a decade-long relationship and canceled my wedding six weeks before it was supposed to happen.

    I remember standing in my kitchen one morning, staring at the floor, and thinking, I have no idea what kind of music I actually like.

    That might sound small, but it was the beginning of everything unraveling.

    Because when you don’t know what kind of music you like… you probably don’t know what your values are. Or your opinions. Or your boundaries. Or your identity.

    And in my case, I didn’t.

    My identity had been shaped entirely by other people. I had become an expert in sensing what people wanted me to be—and then being it.

    I did it with romantic partners, with friends, with coworkers. It was like I had this superpower: I could walk into a room, assess the energy, and morph myself into whoever I thought would be the most likable version of me in that context.

    Great for my acting career. Not so great for real life.

    When the relationship ended and I finally found myself alone, I didn’t just feel lost. I felt hollow. I didn’t have a self to come home to. And the loneliness? It was unbearable.

    I entered what I now call my “summer of sadness.”

    At the time, I called it freedom. I drank more than usual. Partied more than usual. I told myself I was finally living. But behind all of it was a deep, silent ache. A confusion. An emotional fog that wouldn’t lift.

    Eventually, the fog turned into something darker: I spiraled into a rock-bottom moment I never saw coming. It was like my soul said, Enough.

    And somewhere in that mess, I grabbed a pen.

    I didn’t know what else to do. I had so much swirling inside me, and nothing made sense. So I sat down with my journal and wrote two lists.

    List One: Who I Am

    This list was hard to write. It wasn’t self-love-y or positive. It was honest.

    I wrote things like:

    • I’m anxious and overthinking constantly.
    • I say yes when I want to say no.
    • I try to be what I think others want me to be.
    • I interrupt people when they are speaking because I want to feel relatable.
    • I feel guilty all the time, and I don’t know why.
    • I don’t trust myself.

    There was no sugarcoating. No judgment either. Just observation.

    I looked at the page and thought, Okay. This is where I’m at.

    Then I flipped the page.

    List Two: Who I Want to Be

    This list felt different. Not dreamy or abstract, but clear.

    I wrote things like:

    • I want to be grounded and calm.
    • I want to be kind, patient, and generous.
    • I want to listen more than I speak.
    • I want to say no without guilt.
    • I want to show up more in love and less in fear.
    • I want to move through the world not feeling like I always need to prove myself.

    Reading them back, I could feel how wildly different those two versions of me were—not just in how I showed up for the world, but in how I treated myself.

    One list was full of fear, defensiveness, and guilt. The other was rooted in confidence, calm, and choice.

    It wasn’t about becoming a brand-new person. It was about becoming more me—the version of me that had been buried under layers of people-pleasing, perfectionism, and performance for years.

    You can’t become who you want to be if you’re not honest about who you are right now. That’s exactly what those two lists gave me—an unfiltered look at both sides of the mirror.

    As I looked at both lists side by side, I didn’t feel shame. I felt clarity.

    The gap between them wasn’t a flaw. It was a direction.

    And I had a choice to make. Keep going as I was—or finally do the work to change.

    Not just for a month. Not just until I felt better. But for real this time.

    The kind of change that’s uncomfortable. The kind that reworks your patterns, rewires your reflexes,
    and asks you to let go of everything that no longer fits.

    That moment became the foundation of my healing journey.

    Awareness First, Then Change

    Let me be clear: I didn’t wake up the next day and magically become that second list.

    What I did was start noticing. I’d walk away from conversations and think, Ah… I interrupted people a lot again. I tried to be funny instead of real. I said yes when I meant no.

    At first, that awareness was frustrating. I wanted to be further along. But eventually, I realized the win is in noticing.

    What helped me most in this part of the process was journaling.

    I began tracking my thoughts, my actions—even entire conversations. I’d ask myself: Was I present today? Or was I in my head? Did I try to prove something? Where did that pattern show up?

    Sometimes I’d set one small focus, like “interrupt less,” and observe that for weeks. I started noticing who I felt the need to impress, when I lost presence, and what kind of people triggered those old habits. I wasn’t trying to fix it all at once—I was learning myself in real time. That awareness, day by day, became the bridge.

    That’s the starting point for every real shift.

    Over time, those small moments of noticing turned into different choices. I started speaking up. Setting boundaries. Sitting with my emotions instead of numbing them. Choosing presence over performance.

    And little by little, I began becoming the person on the second list.

    Not perfectly. Not quickly. But honestly.

    What I Learned from Writing Two Lists

    1. Change starts with radical honesty. You can’t grow if you’re not willing to name where you are.

    2. Self-awareness is a skill, not a switch. It builds slowly. Be patient.

    3. You don’t need to know the whole path. Just the direction is enough.

    4. The goal isn’t perfection. It’s alignment. It’s feeling proud of who you are becoming.

    If you’re in a season of unraveling, I see you. It’s disorienting. It’s uncomfortable. But it might also be the doorway to everything real.

    So grab a pen. Write your lists.

    Not to shame yourself, but to meet yourself.

    That moment of truth might just be the moment that changes everything.

    You don’t have to write your lists perfectly. You don’t even have to know what to do with them right away. Just be honest. Start where you are. Let clarity come before change—and let that be enough for now.

  • The Greatest Transformations Often Emerge from Hardship

    The Greatest Transformations Often Emerge from Hardship

    “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.” ~Viktor Frankl

    Life has moments that completely reshape us, often without our consent or preparation. Trauma, loss, and grief—they don’t wait until we feel ready to handle them. Instead, they arrive unexpectedly, pinning us against the wall and demanding transformation.

    What began as a day like most training days, fueled by focus and determination, unraveled into an unimaginable traumatic event, one that shattered the life I had known.

    Prior to that moment, as a fitness trainer by profession, my world was defined by movement, strength, and the confidence that my body could carry me anywhere. Being active was a way of life for me, both professionally and recreationally.

    In a split second, all of that was gone, leaving me to grapple with an existence that no longer felt like my own. One moment, I was strong, healthy, and in motion. The next thing I would come to know was waking up in a hospital bed—my body broken, my spirit shaken, my heart heavy with grief and fear.

    My femoral artery had been severed. My family was prepared for the worst, told that people who sustain these types of injuries don’t typically survive.

    “We’re fighting with the clock. We’ll do what we can,” the surgeon had said.

    Those words hung in the air, marking the stark reality of how fragile the situation was. “Life over limb“ became the call, and amputation was the response.

    I spent the summer in the hospital, unable to see the light of day or breathe fresh air. Placed in a medically induced coma for several days, I underwent hours upon hours of intricate, life-saving surgeries—four of the eight within the first week alone.

    My body had been through the unimaginable—cut open, stitched, stapled, poked, and prodded—a battlefield in my fight for life. I had been revascularized, resuscitated, and endured a four-compartment fasciotomy that left my limb filleted open.

    Skin grafts eventually covered the damage as machines beeped and buzzed around me, tubes running from my body—feeding tube, catheter, IVs pumping life back into me. I lay in an isolated critical care room under 24/7 watch, caught in a space between survival and uncertainty.

    As I lay in the hospital bed, the reality of my new existence settled in. The loss of my leg was more than a physical alteration. It was a profound shift in my sense of self, forcing me to confront who I was beyond the body I had always known.

    Peering down at the end of the bed, a reality I was not ready for hit me all at once, with an undeniable, unforgiving force. One foot protruded from beneath the hospital blanket, just as it always had. The other side—my leg stopped short.

    The space it once filled was now an absence I could feel as much as see. In that instant, the weight of it all—what had happened, what had been taken, what could never be undone—settled deep within me. There was no waking up from this living nightmare. This was real.

    I faced a new reality. My lower left leg had been amputated below the knee. There was no gradual build-up, no illness, no injury to hint at what was coming. The sudden loss was more than physical. It wasn’t just my leg. It felt like I had lost my independence and any semblance of the life I once knew.

    The weight of it all pulled me into a darkness that felt impossible to escape. And yet, within that darkness, something began to shift. What had once felt like an ending became an opening for self-discovery—a bridge to deeper understanding of myself and a realization of the strength, courage, and resilience that had always existed within me.

    In the weeks that followed, I grappled with despair and uncertainty, only to realize that this darkness held more than pain. It became a catalyst for transformation. Losing my leg forced me to confront truths I had never acknowledged, opening the door to lessons that reshaped my life in ways I never could have imagined.

    Pain and adversity, anger and fear were not the enemies I once believed them to be. Instead, they became powerful forces that propelled me toward growth, leading me down an unforeseen path—not one I intentionally sought, yet one that ultimately offered exactly what I needed.

    I came to understand this through small victories, such as lifting myself from the hospital bed, taking that first step, and learning to balance when the world beneath me felt unsteady and my footing was unstable and unfamiliar.

    Those moments of discomfort became invitations. When met with willingness rather than resistance, struggles turned into progress. With each step forward, I regained both my footing and my confidence, uncovering a sense of empowerment I hadn’t realized was within me.

    The pain, the fear, and the struggle all led me to powerful realizations—lessons that continue to shape how I see myself and how I engage in life.

    Limitations Are Often Stories We Tell Ourselves

    At first, I believed life had betrayed me, that my body had let me down. I told myself I couldn’t do the things I once loved. I hesitated, afraid of looking weak, of failing. As I started pushing my boundaries, learning to move, to stand, to find new ways forward, I realized the greatest obstacle wasn’t my body; it was the belief that I now had fixed limitations imposed upon me. When I challenged that, I uncovered a world of possibilities.

    The mind cleverly builds barriers that seem insurmountable. Once confronted, they reveal themselves as illusions—perceived limits, not actual ones. The only true limitation is the one I place upon myself. I may do things differently now, and in doing so, I’ve discovered the power of adaptability and just how limitless possibilities truly are.

    My Body Does Not Define Me

    For much of my life, I equated worth with physical appearance and ability. I had built a life and career around movement, pushing my body to perform. Losing my leg felt like losing a core part of myself. I struggled with my reflection, with the visible mark of what had changed. I feared being judged, labeled, seen as broken, defined by what was missing. And over time, I began to see things differently.

    My prosthetic leg, once a symbol of loss, became my badge of courage, a testament to all that I had endured and overcome. While the external physical alteration was undeniable, the greater shift was internal.

    My sense of self felt unfamiliar, as if it had been stripped away along with my leg. Lost in uncertainty and overwhelm, I found myself called to look deeper. It took time and reflection to recognize that my wholeness remained intact. Strength, persistence, and self-worth weren’t dependent on the physical; they resided within. Even when they felt unrecognizable, they remained, waiting to be reclaimed.

    Everything I Needed Was Within Me All Along

    It’s easy to believe that what sustains us must be chased, that healing and wholeness come from outside ourselves. I searched for proof of my worth, looking outward for reassurance that I hadn’t lost something essential. But in the quietest moments, when I sat alone in my pain, when there was no one left to convince me but myself, I began to see the truth.

    What felt like loss wasn’t an empty void. It was an opening, an invitation to uncover what had always been within me. I didn’t need to rebuild from nothing or become someone new. I only needed to recognize what was already there. And in that recognition, the rebuilding and becoming unfolded naturally.

    Losing my leg did not break me. It revealed me. It became the doorway to my greatest discoveries, an invitation to meet myself in ways I never had before, to embrace the unknown, and to uncover the depth of courage, resilience, and inner power that emerges through hardship.

    A Final Reflection

    We all carry stories about what is possible, stories influenced by conditioning, fear, and experience. But what if our limits are not real? What if they’re just unchallenged? What if everything you need to rise, to heal, to rebuild is already within you, waiting to be realized?

    The greatest transformations often emerge from the depths of hardship. Life challenges us in ways we never could have imagined, yet within those challenges lie revelations, truths about ourselves we might never have uncovered otherwise.

    Hardship and struggle often go hand in hand, yet within them lies the path to ease. Though they bring pain, they also offer wisdom. They shape us, yet they don’t have to define us. When we stop resisting and lean into what challenges us, we gain clarity, uncover strength, and discover a deeper understanding of ourselves.

    What once felt impossible begins to feel natural. Through struggle, we find empowerment. Through trauma, we find self-discovery. Every hardship carries an invitation to redefine, to rebuild, to reclaim. The question is not what life takes from us, but what we choose to uncover in its place.

  • If You’re Afraid of Making a Big Life Change

    If You’re Afraid of Making a Big Life Change

    “The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.” ~Alan Watts

    I used to think that stability was the key to happiness. Stay in one place, build a career, nurture long-term relationships—these were the pillars of a successful life, or so I believed.

    My life was a carefully constructed fortress of routine and familiarity. Wake up at 6 a.m., commute to the same office I’d worked at for a decade, come home to the same apartment I’d lived in since college, rinse and repeat. It was safe. It was predictable. It was slowly suffocating me.

    As I approached my fortieth birthday, I found myself increasingly restless. The walls of my comfortable life felt more like a prison than a sanctuary. I’d scroll through social media, seeing friends and acquaintances embarking on new adventures, changing careers, and moving to new cities, and I’d feel a pang of envy mixed with fear.

    “I wish I could do that,” I’d think, quickly followed by, “But what if it all goes wrong?”

    It was during one of these late-night scrolling sessions that I came across a quote from Alan Watts that would change everything: “The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.”

    I stared at those words, feeling as if they were speaking directly to my soul. What if, instead of fearing change, I embraced it?

    The next morning, I woke up with a sense of purpose I hadn’t felt in years. I decided to make a change—not a small one, but a seismic shift that would challenge everything I thought I knew about myself and my life. I was going to quit my job, sell most of my possessions, and travel the world for a year.

    The moment I made this decision, I felt a mix of exhilaration and sheer terror. What about my career? My apartment? My relationships? The questions swirled in my mind, threatening to overwhelm me. But beneath the fear, there was a spark of excitement that I couldn’t ignore.

    I gave myself six months to prepare. Those months were a whirlwind of planning, saving, and facing the reactions of friends and family. Some were supportive; others thought I was having a midlife crisis.

    My parents were particularly worried. “But what about your future?” they asked, echoing the same concerns they’d had when I switched majors in college.

    As the departure date drew closer, my anxiety grew. There were moments when I seriously considered calling the whole thing off. What if I was making a horrible mistake? What if I couldn’t handle the uncertainty?

    It was during one of these moments of doubt that I realized something important: The fear I was feeling wasn’t just about this trip. It was the same fear that had kept me trapped in a life that no longer fulfilled me. If I gave in to it now, I might never break free.

    So, I pushed forward. I boarded that plane with a backpack, a one-way ticket, and a heart full of both terror and hope. The first few weeks were challenging. I felt lost, not just geographically but existentially. Who was I without my job title, my routine, my familiar surroundings?

    But slowly, something magical began to happen. As I navigated new cities, tried new foods, and met people from all walks of life, I felt layers of my old self peeling away. I discovered a resilience I never knew I had. Problems that would have sent me into a tailspin back home became adventures and challenges to solve. I learned to trust my instincts, to find joy in the unexpected, and to embrace the unknown.

    One particularly transformative moment came three months into my journey. I was hiking in the mountains of Peru, struggling with altitude sickness and questioning my decision to attempt this trek.

    As I sat on a rock, catching my breath and fighting back tears, an elderly local woman passed by. She smiled at me and said something in Quechua that I didn’t understand. But her smile and the gentle pat she gave my shoulder spoke volumes.

    In that moment, I realized that kindness and human connection transcend language and culture. I also realized that I was stronger than I ever gave myself credit for.

    As the months passed, I found myself changing in ways I never expected. I became more open, more curious, more willing to try new things. I learned to live with less and appreciate more. The constant movement and change became not just tolerable but exhilarating. I was, as Alan Watts had said, joining the dance of change.

    But it wasn’t all smooth sailing. There were days of loneliness, moments of doubt, and times when I missed the comfort of my old life. I learned that embracing change doesn’t mean you never feel fear or uncertainty. It means you feel those things and move forward anyway.

    As my year of travel neared its end, I faced a new challenge: what next? The thought of returning to my old life felt impossible. I was no longer the person who had left a year ago. But the idea of continuing to travel indefinitely didn’t feel right either. I realized I was craving a new kind of stability—one built on the foundation of flexibility and growth I’d cultivated during my travels.

    I decided to move to a new city, one I’d fallen in love with during my travels. I found a job that allowed me to use my old skills in new ways, with the flexibility to continue exploring the world. I made new friends who shared my love of adventure and personal growth. I created a life that embraced change rather than feared it.

    Looking back on this journey, I’m amazed at how far I’ve come. The person who was once paralyzed by the idea of change now seeks it out as a source of growth and excitement. Here are some of the most important lessons I’ve learned.

    1. Fear is not a stop sign.

    Fear is a natural part of change, but it doesn’t have to control you. Acknowledge it, understand it, but don’t let it make your decisions for you.

    2. Discomfort is where growth happen.

    The moments that challenged me the most were also the ones that taught me the most about myself and the world.

    3. Flexibility is strength.

    Being able to adapt to new situations is far more valuable than trying to control everything around you because often, the only thing you can control is how well you adapt.

    4. Less is often more.

    Living out of a backpack for a year taught me how little I actually need to be happy.

    5. Change is constant.

    Instead of resisting change, learning to flow with it brings a sense of peace and excitement to life.

    6. It’s never too late.

    At forty, I thought I was too old to radically change my life. I was wrong. It’s never too late to start a new chapter.

    If you find yourself feeling stuck, yearning for something more but afraid to make a change, I encourage you to take that first step.

    It doesn’t have to be as dramatic as selling everything and traveling the world (though I highly recommend it if you can!). Start small. Take a different route to work. Try a new hobby. Have a conversation with someone you wouldn’t normally talk to. Each small change builds your resilience and opens you up to new possibilities.

    Embracing change doesn’t mean your life will always be easy or that you’ll never face challenges. But it does mean that you’ll be living fully, growing constantly, and experiencing the rich tapestry of what life has to offer.

    Your life is not a fixed path but a journey of constant evolution. Embrace the changes, learn from the challenges, and celebrate the growth. The world is vast, life is short, and the greatest adventures often begin with a single step into the unknown. So take that step. Join the dance of change. You might be amazed at where it leads you.

  • It’s Never Too Late to Change: How to Reinvent Yourself in Midlife

    It’s Never Too Late to Change: How to Reinvent Yourself in Midlife

    “Don’t be afraid to start over. This time you’re not starting from scratch, you’re starting from experience.” ~Unknown

    Five years ago, as I approached my fortieth birthday, I was deeply dissatisfied with my life.

    I resolved to change everything: to leave San Francisco, where I’d lived for nearly a decade, and to shift my career trajectory, finally committing to my passion—writing.

    I also vowed to address my intimacy issues in friendships and romantic relationships. This desire led to countless online dates and deeper introspection, particularly regarding the impact of my mother’s death when I was a teenager and the emotional distance between my father and me.

    That period of reflection allowed me to confront my deeper insecurities and desires head-on, compelling me to look in the mirror and decide what changes I could make to lead a more aligned life. Age was a factor as I considered how I wanted to live the second half of my life.

    Ultimately, it came down to honestly assessing and accepting where I was at that juncture and then changing what was within my control.

    Coming to Terms with Being Single and Child-Free

    When I was in my early thirties, a good friend’s mother encouraged me to have children because she claimed I would regret it later. As I approached forty and reflected on being childfree by choice, I didn’t regret my childless existence.

    I did face the social stigma of being “single and childfree” in my forties, though. Friends would comment about single people in their late thirties or forties, suggesting something must be “wrong” with them if they were still single. I wanted to challenge that assumption.

    Some people, due to past traumas, might fear intimacy, but that doesn’t mean there’s something inherently wrong with them. Others, I believe, might genuinely prefer the single life.

    I was content with my decision not to have children and grateful that being childfree enabled me to make changes, like moving to Santa Fe in my early forties, which might not have been as easy with children. That move had an incredibly positive impact on my life, as being in “The Land of Enchantment” opened the doors to a profoundly satisfying creative life.

    Intentionally Shaping My Life

    I undertook a “life audit” and reflected on different aspects of my life. Granted, I didn’t conquer everything at once, but I slowly changed various areas of my life. For example, I first addressed that I wasn’t happy in San Francisco and started to reflect on what type of environment would suit me.

    Next, I looked at my career and acknowledged that I wanted to devote more time to my personal writing. So, I tried to find a job that would provide a stable income yet wouldn’t drain me and instead allow me to focus on my creative life. I did want to one day be in a healthy relationship, so I understood that this might take effort on my part—acknowledging my barriers to intimacy and reflecting on how previous relationships went wrong.

    Slowly, I began to work through various aspects of my life, and I could see that as I became more intentional about where I invested my time and energy and where I focused my thoughts, my life began to shift.

    Embracing the Process of Self-Discovery

    My inner work during the last five years (I’ll turn forty-five later this year) led me to a life with balance, purpose, and meaning. During those years, I felt I looked in the mirror, reconciled parts of my past, and reclaimed my future.

    I learned that it is never too late to change the trajectory of my life. While it hasn’t been easy, the journey to where I am now has been profoundly enriching.

    Today, my nervous system has shifted from fight-or-flight mode to a stable resting place, allowing me to fully appreciate what I’ve created: a remote job, my writing career, my community, and the new place I call home.

    I recognize that the “life audit” I undertook at forty brought me to where I am today, and I know this kind of transformation is possible for anyone who dares to reinvent themselves in midlife.

    Five Steps to Reinvention

    Below are five steps that might help you in your midlife transition.

    1. Be honest with yourself.

    Embrace where your life has led you, acknowledging successes and challenges. I recommend conducting a life audit and reflecting on all aspects of it, then asking a trusted friend to review it.

    Are you happy with your job or career? Are you satisfied with your relationships? Does your life feel meaningful? Do you like where you live? Assess which areas you feel content with and where you could improve your life. Consider creating a detailed list of these aspects and rating them on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the most satisfying.

    2. Practice self-forgiveness.

    Release guilt or regret by forgiving yourself for past decisions and focusing on the lessons learned. Avoid the trap of thinking you should be at a certain point by a certain age—it’s not helpful.

    If there are areas in your life where you feel changes are needed, know that with some effort, you can make the improvements you desire. Not forgiving yourself could lead to resentment, which will not provide a natural flow to your life or the right energy to create the desired shifts.

    Self-forgiveness is not just about letting go; it’s about feeling a sense of accomplishment for overcoming past challenges.

    3. Prioritize your goals.

    After completing your life audit, identify the changes you want to make and focus on those that matter most to your growth and happiness. You may not be able to change everything at once, so concentrate on manageable areas. Prioritizing your goals is not just about setting targets; it’s about being focused and determined to make the changes that will lead to a more fulfilling life.

    For example, if you want to move and change jobs, you can address both simultaneously. You could hire a coach who focuses on midlife career transitions if you’re going to begin something anew. Or, if you’re going to build a solid relationship, work with a therapist to explore obstacles and gradually become more active in online dating.

    If improving your physical health is a goal, commit more time to the gym. As I did, you’ll find that the changes we must make often become more manageable with daily progress.

    4. Embrace change.

    Welcome change as an opportunity for growth rather than something to fear. Making significant changes in your life can be scary, but that’s one of the benefits of being in midlife—you’ve already been through a lot, so you’ve likely built up enough confidence and courage to improve your life further.

    Embracing change is not just about adapting; it’s about feeling empowered to shape your life as you see fit. While change can be intimidating, trust that you’ll feel excited by the possibilities as you begin taking steps toward a more aligned life.

    5. Build a supportive network.

    Surround yourself with like-minded individuals who encourage and inspire you on your journey. Good friends or a supportive community will be invaluable during this transitional period.

    Before my fortieth birthday, I regularly convened women’s circles at my San Francisco home. I surrounded myself with like-minded women facing challenges, and they became a trusted brain trust and supportive community.

    Don’t be afraid of midlife!

    Despite being portrayed as a challenging period that one should dread, midlife, in contrast, is an exciting time when one can reflect on one’s life, use your life experience to navigate the next stage of life, and create waves of change.

  • How to Turn Shame into Self-Love and Emotional Resilience

    How to Turn Shame into Self-Love and Emotional Resilience

    “The less we talk about shame, the more control it has over our lives.” ~Brené Brown

    The pain and suffering I experienced as a child, which I kept hidden for over a decade, was the very seed that gave me the strength, resilience, empathy, authenticity, and courage that I possess today—but only because I surrendered the old story to embrace a new one. I alchemized my pain into my fuel, my traumas as contributions to my triumphs, and my curses into my greatest blessings.

    But all of this came with a very hefty price.

    Growing up with a single mother who worked two jobs to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table and with an estranged, abusive father who robbed me of my innocence and self-worth taught me that life’s odds were against me. This shaped my identity.

    I believed I couldn’t rely on or be safe around men and that a scarce number of resources were available for me. The abuse plunged me into a world where I felt I wasn’t good enough to be loved, heard, or seen, or to have the shiny life that the “Jones’s” had.

    Over the next decade, this led me down a long, windy path of reckless rebellion. It wasn’t safe to be home, and it wasn’t safe to be in my own body, so I found outlets to continually check out from reality because, back then, reality sucked most of the time.

    I had no concept or actual experience of life having consequences besides being grounded occasionally. While my mother was doing her best to keep the lights on, and without a healthy masculine role model at home, nothing was slowing my self-sabotage down, or so I thought…

    Then one spring day, life came crashing down, and sheer chaos unfolded, all in a flash. A careless moment brought unspeakable chaos. It shattered families, a community, and life as I knew it—my friends, my identity, my safety, my privacy, and what little dignity I had left.

    This was the first time I faced real-life consequences, not from my parents but now from a judge. I was forced to be sober and sit with all my demons. For countless reasons, this was one of my life’s scariest moments. It was a time when I was constantly living in flight-or-fight, hating myself and fearing my own existence.

    Little did I know this hell would be my chrysalis of transformation.

    It was the first time I had no choice but to face what I had been running from. I was forced to stop pretending and face the truth.

    To my surprise, it was only when I had to dig deep into the dark, sticky, monstrous shadow within myself and sit in the excruciating truths that I found what I unknowingly wanted all along—to be accepted and feel worthy. But not the outside acceptance of validation and popularity. I’m talking about the internal acceptance of what I had been through. Realizing that I am still lovable, worthy, bright, and beautiful, even with the shameful experience of being abused and all the hurt I had caused thereafter.

    As this process of healing and transformation unfolded over many years, I learned this: shame cannot live where there is truth.

    When we either hit rock bottom or make the courageous choice to turn inward and face the parts of ourselves that we have denied, abandoned, sabotaged, ignored, or hidden, it is, in fact, the same place where we find inner peace and power.

    This is the most profound paradox of life. The darkness we avoid is precisely where the miracles and healing wait for us.

    So, although I was, as some may say, dealt a crappy hand with a traumatic start to life, it was the fertile soil I needed to grow.

    Here, I found my voice and learned the wild lesson of how hiding is much more painful than being seen. OMG, if I could scream that from every rooftop for everyone to hear, I would! So this is me shouting and sharing, not as a concept but as a lived experience.

    When we lean into making our hardest trials into our greatest attributes, it creates deep internal strength and emotional resilience. It allows us to have a new perspective on what actually matters, enabling us to let trivial things roll off our backs.

    Life is going to have its challenges, and it’s inevitably going to give us uncomfortable experiences. So, the question is, which discomfort do you want to live with? The discomfort of hiding your truth, staying in self-sabotage, and being a victim of your past, or the one of growth, courage, authenticity, and writing your new story?

    If you’re ready for the latter, here is my advice within four practices to ultimately create unshakeable self-love, emotional resilience, and the fearlessness to be seen for who you truly are.

    1. Share your shame.

    It is critical to find a trusted person (or people) to share your shame with.

    When I began sharing, it was first with my brother, my best friend, and then my therapist.

    When you hold on to the shame, it festers. This often leads to chronic feelings of inadequacy and unworthiness, which can turn into self-sabotage and destructive behaviors of self-harm and addiction.

    Shame also creates barriers in relationships because it often comes with a fear of vulnerability and being seen with flaws, which often leads to blaming others and being defensive, and in extreme cases, turns into abusive and toxic behaviors.

    Another way shame shows up is in a professional setting, contributing to imposter syndrome, lack of confidence, and feeling unworthy of success or accomplishment. Overall, holding onto shame can significantly reduce our quality of life, both personally and professionally.

    As I shared earlier, shame cannot live where there is truth because when you shed the light of truth onto the pain, it no longer carries its power over you; it dissolves. It turns from something to hide into a wish for something better.

    When you share with a trusted person, you get to experience being seen, heard, and accepted and feeling that you are still worthy of love.

    2. Seek discomfort.

    Yes, seek it. You’ve got to get out of your comfort zone.

    I first began to do this by sharing my shame, as I mentioned above. I know how excruciatingly uncomfortable it is to share a deep, dark, shameful secret for the first time. It nearly brings me to tears as I write this, because I still remember what it was like. But, speaking from experience, the thought of it is way more terrifying than doing it. I promise that when you do it with that trusted person, you will feel so relieved.

    I also sought out discomfort through embodiment practices like yoga. In the beginning, this was very foreign to me because I was so used to being disconnected from my body, but as time went on, I became obsessed with yoga and got certified as a teacher!

    Lastly, when I was sober from all substances for five years, this was the first time I truly felt the sadness, guilt, confusion, and shame that I carried for over a decade because of the abuse from my father. Talk about discomfort!

    Resiliency and inner strength are not created in your comfort bubble. When you step into new experiences that stretch what you already know about yourself, it not only expands your capacity to be vulnerable, but it also empowers you in new and profound ways.

    3. Be authentic.

    There’s nothing more diminishing to the soul than not being who you truly are, whatever that means for you at this stage in your life. Authenticity breeds authenticity. It is contagious. When people feel you are authentic, it takes the pressure off them to pretend and invites them to let their guard down and be authentic, too. It’s a win/win!

    If you have a hard time being authentic because you fear rejection or judgment, then keep reading because what I’m about to tell you is a hard truth and requires a dose of tough love.

    If your family, friends, co-workers, partner, followers, or whomever rejects you for being truly, authentically you, then they are not meant for you! The world needs your authentic expression. This life is too short and too precious to waste not being your most brave, wild authentic self!

    And as far as judgment goes, another truth bomb here: People are going to judge you no matter what! Literally screaming this in my head as I type. Seriously though, whichever path you pick, people will judge—so you might as well be judged for being you.

    Practice being authentic in a small, low-risk situation first. For example, say no to something that doesn’t align with your values, even if it’s something minor, or wear an outfit that feels more “you,” even if it’s outside your usual style.

    4. Let yourself be seen.

    As I mentioned earlier, hiding is much more painful than being seen. Being seen goes hand in hand with self-acceptance. The more you accept yourself, flaws and all, the more willing you are to be seen. And the more willing you are to be seen, the more you will accept yourself! It is a mirror that shows you how you feel internally. When you allow yourself to be seen for who you are, you disarm other people’s judgments because you have created confidence and embraced yourself.

    —

    If you’re going through hardship now, or the next time life gives you a disguised blessing, come back to these steps. They were not only my saving light in the darkness, but they are also proven tools for creating resilience and living empowered.

    I could have stayed in my destructive behavior, but I chose to lean in when I was at the scariest point of my life because I knew deep down there was something better for me on the other side.

    Remember, we all have crappy hands dealt to us at times, but in the end, it’s how we play our hand that matters most.

  • New Year’s Resolutions Simplified: It’s as Easy as 1, 2, 3

    New Year’s Resolutions Simplified: It’s as Easy as 1, 2, 3

    You and I will probably come across a hundred articles about New Year’s resolutions in 2023 … again. And, if you and I are like the majority—the well-intentioned, regular people who genuinely want change—we will aspire to big things and later get frustrated and give up on the list we made … again.

    But what if we kept it really simple this time? What if we didn’t have to make an endless list and be reminded, by looking at it, of all the things we may fail at again?

    What if we made it as easy as one, two, three?

    Let us do that instead, shall we?!

    1. Make “one” your magic number. Count to one each day, starting now, not from January 1st—NOW! What is the one thing you want and will do today?

    One email or paragraph you will write, or one chapter you will read, or one person you’ll reach out to. Who is the one lucky person you will text or call to tell them how you miss or appreciate them? Or how encouraged you feel by knowing them or how you want to ask forgiveness from them? Who is the one person you can write to or call to laugh about that one fun memory that you only share with them?

    I personally made a commitment to write or call or pray for a person whenever they cross my mind, that same day; I do not wait. There is a reason, I believe, we are reminded of people, and life is so fragile. I don’t want to miss an opportunity and regret not uplifting someone who could have been encouraged, or speaking kindness to someone who could have benefited from it.

    What’s one thing you will do today to move toward a healthier and happier you?

    Maybe it’s just one set of squats while you are washing the dishes; one jump rope you will order and one minute of jumping you’ll do when it arrives; one glass of beer or coke or a sweet drink you’ll replace with water or tea or decaf coffee just once today. Which one item will you change in your menu today for something that is better for your body?

    What is the one happy song you will listen to in the car or on a quick walk that you will take today? What is the one shop you will drive to, parking really far away, so you can get extra steps walking back and forth?

    2. Remember that there are two significant ways that your brilliant mind registers and remembers everything: through words and images.

    Paint clear, vivid, beautiful pictures for your mind of what it is that you want. Think backward; create an image of what your completed accomplishment looks like to you and make it as detailed and as exciting as you possibly can.

    See yourself having arrived at the healthy weight you want, you fitting into an outfit of your desires, hearing your friends and strangers complimenting you on how radiant and healthy and great you look, thinking about how you love taking care of your body inside and out.

    See yourself having completed your degree, project, letter, book, task, whatever. See yourself walking across the stage, people wanting to buy your product, welcoming your project, asking you to give your presentation again, asking you about and enjoying the summary of what you read or learned.

    Imagine yourself buying that house you have painted in your mind and furnishing it and having friends over and laughing and resting in your comfortable space every day!

    See yourself in a relationship you just repaired or found and are enjoying. See how good it is for you and the other person; see and hear the uplifting conversations you are having and the fun activities you are enjoying together. Dream in pictures!

    When talking to yourself, use words that are kind, uplifting, life-giving, generous—not the opposite. Speak in the same way you would to someone you love and care about; someone whose success would make you as happy as your own; someone you want to see happy, encouraged, loved. Talk to yourself in your mind and out loud like that each day and see what happens.

    3. Imagine yourself as a triangle.

    One side is your mind, connected to the second, your heart, connected to the third, your amazing body, with the entire space inside filled with who you really and most profoundly are—your spirit.

    All of you needs to be cared for, attended to, and nurtured. Pay attention to what each part needs and requires. How is it lacking? What is it missing? What one thing can you do today to nurture each part?

    I nourish my spirit through prayer and silence daily, which fills me with focus, strength, and insight, and I always pray for at least one person outside of my family as well. Walking is what helps care for my body during this season of life.

    —

    So there you have it: one, two, three.

    When you get to the end of your day today, be sure to congratulate yourself on that one thing you did, that step you took, and look forward to doing it again tomorrow. Be your cheerleader and encourager and then, over time, you’ll see that change you’ve been looking for.

  • You Have Just Five Minutes Left to Live – What Are Your Deathbed Regrets?

    You Have Just Five Minutes Left to Live – What Are Your Deathbed Regrets?

    “Yesterday was heavy—put it down.” ~Unknown

    Death is still taboo in many parts of the world, yet I must confess that I’ve become fascinated with the art of dying well.

    I was thinking about the word “morbid” the other day, as I heard someone use it when berating her friend for his interest in better preparing for death. The word’s definition refers to “an unhealthy fixation on death and dying,” but who gets to define what’s healthy? And why are so many of us keen to avoid discussing the inevitable?

    We talk about death from time to time on our podcast, and it’s through this work that I’ve been contemplating the topic of regret.

    We all have a story, and they’re rarely fairy tales. As we doggedly plow through life’s box of chocolates, it’s not uncommon for us to say (or not say) and do (or not do) things that we later regret. However, if we motor on, never assessing or addressing the regretful moments from our past, could we hold onto remorse for years?

    In such cases, are we unconsciously retaining dis-ease in our bodies and minds? It’s a hefty weight, after all. Some of us spend our whole lives carrying shame and regret. Cumbersome, compounded emotions clouding our hearts and minds, we take these dark passengers to the end.

    So, there you are—about to die—still living in the past or an unattainable future. Even then, you’re incapable of forgiveness. Even then, you cannot let go or express your true feelings.

    Is this the ending you want for yourself? To spend the last moments of your life incapacitated, surrounded by loved ones (if you’re lucky), yet unable to be present, all thanks to the train of regrets chug-chugging through your failing, fearful mind? Now there’s a positively joy-filled thought.

    And what of my regrets and motivation to write these words? Well, now, there’s a question.

    Like you, my life to date was not without incident. I’ve lived with childhood abuse, high-functioning addiction, self-harm, depression, and emotional immaturity. There’s nothing particularly unique about my story of suffering; I’m just another Samsaric citizen doing the rounds.

    As is traditional, I bore the shame and regret of my actions for a long time, and the weight of my co-created drama nearly drove me to suicide. My rampage lasted almost two decades, and I made quite a mess during that time. However, after a fair whack of internal work, I’m grateful to report that I no longer feel like that. 

    In recent years, I discovered a new way to live—a life of sobriety, self-love, forgiveness, acceptance, awareness, gratitude, and presence.

    Through this beautiful transformation, I saw that to live a life within a life had already been a gift, but two was an outright miracle. One might say that I died before I died. This experience drove me to review, reinvent, and begin learning the art of living and dying well. And I’ll continue learning until my last day here at Earth School.

    So I now find myself in an incredible position. If you told me I only had five minutes left to live, I’d wave my goodbyes and then spend my last few minutes contemplating how unequivocally grateful I am for the lessons and gifts I’ve received during my stay.

    But this isn’t about me—far from it. You see, presently, I’m on a mission to understand how others feel about shame and regret. Do you long to let go of grudges? Do you wish you’d said “I love you more,” or that you spent less time at work and more with family and friends? Or are you deferring such inconsequential concerns until you’ve achieved this goal or that milestone?

    But what if you suddenly ran out of time?

    In her book On Death and Dying (what the dying have to teach doctors, nurses, clergy, and their own family), Elizabeth Kübler-Ross, MD, occasionally touches on the regrets of the dying. Some of the remorse described includes failures, lost opportunities, and sadness at being unable to provide more for those left behind.

    The book features excerpts from many interviews with folks with terminal illnesses and, to this day, remains an excellent guide for people working with those near death.

    A few ideas circulate about the many regrets of the dying. We might suppose that in the final transitional phase, folks often lament the lives they didn’t live, which culminates in a significant degree of regret. But there’s been very little research done to prove this idea.

    In The Top Five Regrets of the Dying, Bronnie Ware interweaves her memoirs with five deathbed regrets gleaned during her stint working as a palliative care worker. It would appear that there’s no science to support the anecdotal regrets listed in her book, but they’re interesting, not least because they feel entirely likely.

    Digging into the subject further, on top of Ware’s list, I found more information discussing the top deathbed regrets. My entirely unscientific internet search coughed up some common themes as follows:

    1. I wish I had taken better care of my body.
    2. I wish I’d dared to live more truthfully.
    3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
    4. I should’ve said “I love you” more.
    5. I wish I’d let go of grudges.
    6. I wish I’d left work at work and made more time for family.
    7. I wish I had stayed in touch with friends.
    8. I wish I’d been the better person in conflicts.
    9. I wish I’d realized that happiness was a choice much sooner.
    10. I wish I’d pursued my dreams.

    Heartbreaking if true, right? 

    So while I found little to no research on deathbed regrets, I did find a 2005 American paper titled What We Regret Most… and Why by Neal J. Roese and Amy Summerville.

    The report collates and analyzes several studies surrounding the regret phenomenon. Nine of these papers were published between 1989 and 2003 and contain some highly insightful metadata on life regrets. That said, one wonders how attitudes have changed in all that time.

    The research required participants to review their lives and consider what three (from a list of eight) aspects they would change if they could reset the clock and start again. Other studies asked what parts of life they would alter, and another inquired about people’s most significant life regrets.

    Interestingly, the studies showed a correlation between advancing age, diminishing opportunity, and gradual regret reduction. As older individuals’ life opportunities faded, so did their most painful regrets. Perhaps this meant they simply gave up, feeling there’s no point in regretting something one no longer has the power to change.

    While not specific, there were clear categories for Americans’ biggest regrets as follows:

    • Education 32%
    • Career 22%
    • Romance 15%
    • Parenting 10%
    • Self 5.47%
    • Leisure 2.55%
    • Finance 2.52%
    • Family 2.25%
    • Health 1.47%
    • Friends 1.44%
    • Spirituality 1.33%
    • Community 0.95%

    The paper summarizes, “Based on these previous demonstrations, we suggest that the domains in life that contain people’s biggest regrets are marked by the greatest opportunity for corrective action.” Indeed, this makes perfect sense. Perhaps it is not surprising that people regret career and education decisions in adulthood (with time left to change their course).

    I suspect, however, that such thoughts change entirely the moment one comes face-to-face with their mortality. At this point, one surely cares less about education and a successful career—about the stuff one has or has not accrued.

    I imagine that when one reaches the inevitable moments before death, we consider the true beauty of life, love, experience, family, friends, and living in peace, free from hatred, envy, or resentment toward one another. But then, I’m a bit of a hippie like that, and perhaps I’ve got it all wrong. 

    So how about we create a study of our own? I invite you to grab a pen and paper (or keyboard) and spend a few minutes imagining that you’ve got five minutes left to live—not in the future, but right now at this point in your life. You have five minutes left.

    Consider your deathbed regrets. Close your eyes if it helps (you’re dying, after all). Take a little time to breathe into these reflections consciously. When finished, perhaps you might share some or all of your list in the comments section of this post. Regardless, maybe this offers a chance to address one’s would-be deathbed regrets by considering them now, with a little breathing room.

    Perhaps it’s a timely invitation to stop and take stock. By contemplating life and death in such a way, we are learning that the secret to the art of dying well is right under our noses in how we live our lives.

  • How Releasing Control Opened Me Up to a Limitless Life

    How Releasing Control Opened Me Up to a Limitless Life

    “What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly.” ~Richard Bach

    I have always wanted to create a family.

    As a child, I lovingly cared for my dolls and fell head over heels for my college boyfriend. Kneeling before me with a ring, he said, “I want you to be the mother of our children.” I swooned as we walked down the aisle at the tender age of twenty-two, convinced I was set for life. I had the husband, and I would have the family.

    I entered into our marriage with the expectation and security of certainty. We had vowed to be together for life, so I believed that was the truth.

    But I had another love besides my husband.

    I was in love with performing.

    After a childhood of classes in the arts, I was accepted into the BFA Musical Theater Program’s inaugural year at Penn State University. I soaked every minute up and graduated with summer work already booked and the plan to move to New York City with my new husband and dive into my career.

    Creating a family could wait. Broadway was calling.

    Except I found myself hitting a ceiling. Despite working consistently as a professional, Broadway eluded me. With the exception of two Broadway shows that closed before I would have joined them, I would choke when I was invited back for a second or third audition, and never make it any further.

    I was a true triple threat, strong in my singing, dancing, and acting, but I didn’t know how to deal with the loud and critical voice in my head. When I needed to deliver my best at these big moments, the critic would become deafening and my voice would crack or I would spontaneously “forget” which leg to step forward on while I was dancing. In those moments, it was as if all my training went out the window.

    Over time I was losing confidence. I literally worked at every level except Broadway. I worked off-Broadway, regionally, did national tours and commercials, and kept auditioning in hopes my break would come.

    And then I found myself at the age of thirty-seven staring into my husband’s eyes as he told me, “I don’t think I love you anymore. I don’t think I want to be married anymore. I don’t think I want to have children.”

    The security and certainty I had clung to in my twenties evaporated in smoke. I lost my marriage and the ability to create the family I had desired for the last fifteen years.

    In the face of my divorce, I felt a great urgency arise. It fueled me to heal emotionally, spiritually, and mentally from my heartbreak and to seek the right support to guide me as a single woman. I worked with love coaches and therapists and joined women’s groups to help me make sense of how to find a life partner.

    And then four and a half years later, I went on a first date with a kind blue-eyed man who took me to the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens and gently opened an umbrella over my head as rain began to fall. In all the dates I had been on, I had never felt like this before, and we quickly fell in love.

    Before I became exclusive with him, I asked how he felt about creating a family and was thrilled when he shared that was his biggest desire as well. We were married a year and a half later and began to try naturally to get pregnant.

    Creating a family was now. There was no more waiting. I had the husband and the security. Certainty had returned to my life again.

    Except after a year of trying, nothing had happened. So, we entered into IVF as I had frozen my eggs after my divorce for this very reason. We followed all the steps, and I was convinced this was going to work. With the number of fertilized eggs, I imagined we had two tries and I was completely open to twins. But on the day of the transfer, only one egg was ready, and the other three became unusable.

    The pressure was unmanageable. I was experiencing migraine headaches from the synthetic hormones and was terrified it wouldn’t work. Which it didn’t.

    I vowed I was done with the drugs and our family was either going to happen through natural causes or through adoption.

    A year later, I found myself staring at a positive pregnancy test.

    My husband and I were giddy beyond belief, and began to read children stories to the growing life inside me.

    Creating a family was now. There was no more waiting.

    Except just before my eleventh week, I stared at an ultrasound with no heartbeat. The white light that had fluttered with such ferocity at seven weeks was now a static white dot.

    While we went back to trying, my heart was broken. Nothing was happening, so we entered into the process of adoption.

    Within two months we were matched with a birth mother, and I wept when we got the call. The birth mother had just entered her second trimester, so we had several months to wait.

    Now we could prepare! I dived into podcasts, books, and workshops, learning everything I could about adoption, about being a trauma-informed parent, and what products felt most aligned with our values. I created a registry, and we both planned to take time off work.

    Everything was set.

    Creating our family was now. There was no more waiting.

    And then a month before the baby’s due date, the birth mother changed her mind. In adoption, they call this a disruption, and that is exactly how it felt.

    I found myself reliving every pillar of my journey. Choosing Broadway over family. The divorce. The failed IVF. The miscarriage. And now the disruption. I wasn’t just mourning the recent loss; I was mourning decades of a desire that had burned in my womb.

    I thought it was the end of the world. End of certainty.

    I found myself feeling completely disoriented. I had planned maternity leave from my business and set up an elaborate schedule for my approaching book launch all around the adoption. I had a nursery filled with a stroller, changing table, clothes, and a glider. I had thought of everything.

    I had planned it all out, because I wanted to believe it was going to happen. I wanted to believe there was no more waiting. I wanted to believe in certainty.

    I pulled an Oracle card from Alana Fairchild that read, “This comes with special guidance for you. More love is rushing towards you like a great cosmic tsunami. You will struggle with this blessing to the extent that you will attempt to hold onto what has been. So don’t. Let go. You’ll perhaps get some water up your nose, but nothing will come to you that you cannot handle. Instead, you’ll have no idea what is going on. Oh, how the tsunami will deliver you into your divine destiny!”

    So I did something new. I surrendered. I surrendered all my plans.

    I started coaching my clients again. We went back to being active again with the adoption agency. I started my book marketing tasks again.

    But none of this had any certainty or definitive timeline. After decades of knowing the exact day and time things were going to happen, I embraced not knowing.

    I embraced waiting. Because it seemed there was nothing else to do.

    It felt like a part of me was dying, the part that had planned my family with such ferocity and certainty.

    In my grief, I turned to the Oracle deck’s guidebook and saw Robert Brach’s quote. As soon as I read it, I began to weep in resonance.

    How I had strived to stay the caterpillar.

    The caterpillar of certainty. The caterpillar of timelines. The caterpillar of planning.

    But the caterpillar couldn’t transform with these values. It needed to be washed up on the waves of love, and finally enter the cocoon to grow into a sacred butterfly.

    Robert’s words speak to that profound moment when we recognize that the way we’ve been living our life doesn’t work anymore. If we want to grow, we have to let go of our clinging, specifically our clinging to certainty.

    Because the truth is, our greatest power comes in the acceptance of not knowing.

    If you “don’t know” then you are actually opening yourself to a limitless life, one that is led by divine timing, instead of what your ego wants to believe is “right.”

    What if experiencing the same thing over and over is actually a divine tap on the shoulder to try something new?

    What if being disoriented and not knowing when your desire will arrive is the softly spun silk surrounding your most vital soul?

    For me, the tsunami washed me up on the shore with sacred wisdom. No longer holding onto a timeline was actually a deep relief. Going through the cycle of trying to control every aspect of creating my family had been so taxing and exhausting.

    I had formed a castle of certainty with bricks and stones, only to discover it was actually made of sand. And when the waves crashed through, I saw it was never meant to last. It was always meant to wash away.

    Now I’m opening to something far more powerful than certainty. I’m opening to trust.

    I don’t know when my family will come. I have no idea how my desire is going to manifest. Perhaps my life has actually been working out beautifully, creating a divine path I may not have “planned” but one that has sparked a vital inner transformation.

    One that has opened me to the possibility of my life unfolding in a new direction. And with that, I can let go of crawling on the ground in vain as the caterpillar. Now I can just open my wings and fly.

    Now I can simply receive.

  • When You’re Ready for Change: You Need to Believe in Your Future Self

    When You’re Ready for Change: You Need to Believe in Your Future Self

    “Growth is uncomfortable because you’ve never been here before. You’ve never seen this version of you. So give yourself a little grace and breathe through it.” ~Kristin Lohr

    I was kinda sorta showing up.

    To the outside world, it looked like I was doing all of the things. I was smiling. I was talking about exercise and eating well. I was posting happy, positive vibe quotes, but I wasn’t really showing up for myself.

    I had experienced a miscarriage at thirteen weeks. This was supposed to be the safe zone. I had told family and friends. My husband and I even had names ready to go. This was baby number four, so I thought I was a pro.

    I was in a toxic work environment, but I kept going. Even after my miscarriage, I felt I had to be back there quickly so others didn’t need to deal with my responsibilities.

    After experiencing this loss, I spent quite a long time kinda sorta being serious about my well-being. But let’s be honest, I pretended for years. I was hearing “Take care of YOU!” on repeat. It was well intentioned, but I had absolutely no clue how to do that. Nobody told me how to take care of myself.

    I knew all of the shoulds and suppose-tos. But I was overwhelmed by those concepts as I added them all to my to-do list. I knew I should eat healthy and move my body, but what was I going to do about these negative thoughts of not being good enough floating through my brain every single day? The guilt was overflowing, but I just smiled.

    I took on more responsibility and wore so many different hats that it looked like I was able to do it all. In reality, I was so stressed that it was coming out physically through an annoying eye tick.

    I made an excuse of being tired when people noticed it. I defended that excuse because I needed to believe it. I wasn’t sleeping well. I was eating junk in between the occasional healthy meals kick. I was moving, but not on a regular basis. I continued to smile, make excuses, and pretend all was good.

    One morning, I realized that I couldn’t keep doing this. I opened my eyes and accepted that I was only kinda sorta showing up for myself and that I couldn’t keep sustaining this lifestyle without causing irreversible damage to those I loved and to myself. So I said the scariest words: “No, sorry. I can’t.”

    Admittedly, I only whispered these words to myself at first. Then something powerful happened: I started to say them out loud to other people.

    First, it was only to my inner circle, and then it started spilling out everywhere. I was talking about taking my power back. I was talking about an exit strategy from my toxic work environment. I was talking about how my miscarriage did, in fact, hit me hard. It rocked me to my core.

    I was open about my feelings. I was letting myself experience all of my emotions. I was shifting. I was becoming a new woman—a similar version to the happy and healthy woman I once was. I was emotional. It was scary. It was worth it. It took a lot of work and guidance. It’s still evolving. In many ways, I expect to always be growing and shifting.

    I told myself: Believe in your future self. That sounds like it should be easy to do, but it’s tough for most people. Chances are you are afraid of change. We all are. And it might be hard on your ego to admit you need to do something different.

    As humans, we want to be right. We don’t want to admit a choice we made was the wrong one. We may have second thoughts and see lots of red flags going up all over the place, but we still hate to admit we made the wrong decision. So we stick with what we’re doing even if it feels wrong.

    I have a little secret to tell you: The most successful people are the ones who push through the fear of change and do it anyway—even if it’s hard on their pride. It can be done. It will be messy in the middle, but you’ll get through it. When self-doubt creeps in, you need to follow two steps to make a change.

    1. A mindset shift

    You absolutely must believe that you can and will be successful to become successful. No matter what the goal is, you must believe in yourself and see the success as a real possibility.

    For example, if you want to move your muscles more through exercise, start your morning off with the mantra of “I am making my health a priority. I will move my muscles today.” Start acting like someone who exercises. Make decisions like a person who moves on a regular basis. Schedule it in. Talk about it.

    If you want to be happier and healthier, use these I am statements to help get you there: “I am enough.” “I am worthy of happiness every day!” Many people say they want to feel happier but don’t believe they deserve it, so they end up sabotaging themselves. Say those statements out loud. Write them down. Get to the root of any traumas or past conditioning that prevent you from believing them.

    Once you shift your mindset, your choices and path will align with the new you. You will reach your goals, or at least make progress toward them. You may experience imposter syndrome along the way. Keep going. That is a part of the mindset shift process. Talk back. If you believe you can do the things you want to do, you will.

    2. A strategy

    The second part of your success journey is the roadmap to move you forward. You cannot just wish and hope for things to happen. You must do the work.

    If you’ve shifted your mindset, now you need to travel the miles to get where you want to go. How do you do this? Set realistic goals. Make a plan. Follow the plan and stay consistent. You’ll need guidance along the way. Surround yourself with people who are doing what you’d like to do. Listen to the advice of those who have traveled this road before you. Ask for help to stay accountable.

    Do not assume that this will be an easy path to travel. Most things worth having require a good bit of work. Expect roadblocks and push past them.

    Know that not everyone in your current circle will be ready for you to shift. Change is scary on a personal level. When others change around you, it’s frightening if you aren’t shifting alongside them. In some cases, your change will create positive ripple effects for those closest to you, but it will happen for them once the timing is correct.

    Your future self is waiting to meet you—you just need to get moving. The path will not be all sunshine and rainbows, but you can travel it. You can make a change, even a great big one.

    Once you are on the other side, you’ll wonder why it took you so long to get there. You’ll be happier. You’ll be healthier. Other people will ask you how you did it! Take that first step and keep going. I promise you it’s better on the other side.

  • Confessions of an Extrovert: Why I Now Love My Alone Time

    Confessions of an Extrovert: Why I Now Love My Alone Time

    “Allow yourself to grow and change. Your future self is waiting.” -Unknown

    Not to be dramatic, but I really mean it when I say that solitude changed my life. I am an extrovert who loves humans, socializing, and learning from people and experiences. I’ve always enjoyed being around others, and don’t get me wrong, I still thrive this way. But when I got Covid in 2021, life completely changed, and it’s not the only way I thrive now.

    Before Covid, I’d been living my life in a way that wasn’t serving me. I was partying a lot, not eating well, and living in chaos, with very little rest. I constantly had my schedule booked, leaving no time for self-care. I felt like I was living life for others, ignoring what I needed.

    I made mistakes, like blowing off my priorities because I was in a terrible headspace, and I continued living an unhealthy lifestyle until I finally had a talk with myself and realized this wasn’t right for me (then Covid came along, and sh*t got serious).

    I didn’t immediately enjoy quarantining and being stuck at home, away from friends and family, but before I got sick, I knew change was coming. And though I felt a lot of resistance, I also felt that a new version of myself was on the way.

    While I’m usually not one to fight change, there was so much going on at once, and it was a lot. I also learned that I was one of the people who suffered from panic attacks and anxiety as a side effect of Covid. The aftermath was worse than having the virus itself.

    This lasted almost a year. I felt so bad for myself; I couldn’t believe that this is what life had come to for me. I was even losing my hair. Some days I’d wonder if this dark tunnel would ever come to an end and show me light. Things felt very heavy, but I also had some of the most beautiful things going on at the same time, like living in the city with my now fiancé, so it was all very confusing.

    I began to lose sleep, which was unusual for me. My inner world felt like chaos. There were lots of tears and weekly therapy sessions (which also changed my life). Therapy and journaling became my safe spaces to release and understand myself.

    Throughout the year of that inner chaos, what did I learn? Surrender. I was trying to maintain full control of my life and keeping busy while actively avoiding working through suppressed emotions from times when younger Naila would over-extend for others, and completely forget to take care of herself. I didn’t want to listen because I was afraid. And that’s human nature, to fear the unknown.

    So, here’s a reminder that the Universe forces you to slow down and redirect when you’re not listening. This also means it may hurt more since we didn’t consciously welcome the change.

    Over time, I have gone through so many phases and such inner growth. I began working with my wonderful therapist and quit a job that was not working out for me as expected (which hurt). I’ve lost people and my relationships changed, thankfully most of them for the better.

    As soon as I let go of control and put in the hard work, things got better, and I saw results—even if they were just small victories. I was starting to see that light I’d been waiting for. My body felt lighter as I began to release dead weight from my body and I began to feel like myself again, but this time, better than ever.

    I chose watering myself over destructive behaviors. Instead of focusing on the anxiety attacks and trying to force myself back to sleep at night, I meditated. I chose solitude over socializing. This was the peak of my growth. 

    Sometimes, we get lost in the chaos of this busy world. We get sucked into conversations and company we don’t actually enjoy. Society tells us to be productive 24/7. Our worth is based off money, accomplishments, and what social media sees. Conversations are about what we are instead of who we are.

    Long before this journey, I was used to overbooking my schedule, always very busy. I would work two jobs, scheduling anything I could in between and going to school at the same time. I enjoyed it then.

    Solitude and self-reflection taught me what I truly care about: genuine connections, giving and receiving love, nurturing myself just as I do others, and living, not just surviving.

    My higher self told me that the world’s expectations are not my own, and that it’s okay to choose a different path than I once wanted (or society told me I wanted). As I’ve learned in therapy, I am my own worst critic, so my new path is all about letting life unfold naturally, without constantly criticizing myself for where I thought I’d be in life, especially in my career.

    I began to reflect on my life, my inner child, and current self. Most importantly, I began to heal from things I’d stored away from childhood pains and days long ago during an abusive relationship. I let go of self-sabotaging behaviors and decided to finally listen and release, then the inner turmoil started to calm.

    Because I was spending much more time alone, I learned a lot about myself. Solitude helps us build trust with ourselves and teaches us about our true desires. We begin to tolerate less and prioritize differently. I value very different things now than I once did. I’m getting to know my true self, and that’s something no one can teach you or prepare you for. 

    I also want to emphasize that solitude is possible while you’re in a healthy relationship.

    Throughout my dark days, I had my now-fiancé supporting me through it all while letting me heal and grow. Him supporting my solitude made me that much more successful on my journey. When someone around you offers love, respect, and support, it makes it easier. Their company becomes a bonus and not a burden. Previous Naila didn’t think this was possible, and I’m grateful things panned out differently.

    Overall, I have learned that the “dark” times were actually just lessons and periods that catapulted my growth and healing. The tough times are temporary, and there is strength and clarity in solitude. As of today, I cherish my solitude; it’s a vital part of my being. I also learned that there is light at the end of the dark tunnel. Yes, even when it’s long and scary.

    In this new chapter of my life, rest is high on my priority list, not overworking and overbooking. I am much pickier about who/what I surround myself with, much more productive, and still growing and ever-changing.

    My life is much more peaceful and calm, and my boundary-setting skills are much stronger. These are lessons I couldn’t learn as an unbalanced extrovert. I’m a better version of myself now.

    So, if you’re an extrovert who forgets to prioritize yourself, someone who’s going through a dark tunnel, or someone who avoids change, this post is for you. Instead of being afraid of solitude and change, learn to accept them and watch how they transform your life for the better.

    As my dad once told me, change is the only constant in life, so get comfortable with the uncomfortable.

    I believe in you. ♥

  • How I Lighten My Mood by Making a Bargain with the Universe

    How I Lighten My Mood by Making a Bargain with the Universe

    “Pain is what the world does to you; suffering is what you do yourself.” ~Gautama Buddha

    I don’t expect things to be a steady state of bliss.

    In fact, I agree with the Buddha that suffering is pretty much part of the human condition. Our expectations just get in the way of our experiences. I’m talking about your garden-variety suffering here, not the kind that comes with traumatic events that take you out at the knees or devastating clinical depression.

    I see the now-and-then emergence of lethargy or melancholy as part of the whole emotional spectrum. And, like stepping in water in your stocking feet, bound to happen from time to time for most of us. Plus, for me anyway, I think recognizing the difficult days enables me to better savor the wonderful and even the tremendously ordinary ones.

    Still, knowing that the spinning wheel is going to land on grey sometimes does not mean those days aren’t tough. For me, that greyness means my mood, my gait, even my ability to recognize the full bounty that is mine just feels heavier and more arduous. Sort of like moving through muck that slows your pace and clings to your boots.

    Just as I think those emotions are due to sometimes arrive, I also know they will leave—I just want to accelerate that departure. And I’ve found a way that works for me. I make a deal with the Universe.

    I speak this pact out loud—“I’ll try if you try.”

    I commit to trying to pull my boot out the mud by first focusing on my senses.

    Under the header of controlling what I can control, I might actively focus on taking in the smell of fresh coffee—holding the cup in my hands, without expectation, and just experiencing it. The rich smell, the playful bubbles, the warm solace held in a favorite mug. I try to let that singular moment envelope me, seeking nothing specific in return.

    Or I might stand at a window until I can feel the sun’s warmth on my face. I will then imagine my breath carrying that warmth down my neck to my collar bones, down to my fingers and into my belly. I’m not looking to be instantly “fixed,” just to prime the pump to receive and interpret information differently by bringing my senses and my nervous system into the equation.

    The Yoga Sutras, a text from perhaps as early as 500 BCE that codified yogic theory and practice (yoga with  “big Y,” way more than just the poses) reinforce the role of the nervous system in expanded consciousness. We take what we experience to be the truth, but as the theory goes, if you change what you feel/believe you experience, your conception of the truth changes.

    It’s like the ancient parable of the blind men and the elephant—you build your definitions of what is based on what you experience. My rationale proceeds then that if I alter my perceived inputs, the narrative that my nervous system spits out can also be altered.

    So that’s my part of the bargain—to widen the sense aperture and find a better experience. For the Universe’s part, I imagine it sending little gifts in return for my efforts—a great parking spot, the wave and smile of a colleague down the hall, a new local tour date for a favorite band.

    I don’t actually think the Universe is moving cars or colleagues or tour schedules to accommodate me. It’s simply me noticing. That doesn’t keep me from imagining a sort of an equal and opposite reaction in play that generates goodness in response to my attempts to notice goodness.

    I think of this noticing as a reframing of the “Toyota principle.” Long ago when my husband and I got a real car, we got a Toyota. Once we had the Toyota, we suddenly noticed all the other Toyotas on the road and wondered where they’d come from. They hadn’t suddenly flooded the market. It was more about moving the metaphorical antenna to recalibrate the signal—ah, I see things now.

    Actively being open to the light and marveling at its forms still doesn’t serve up a twenty-minute fix. It does remind me of all the good standing in wait for me and reinforces that “this too shall pass.” In fact, someone wise once told me “If you want to change something, you’ve got to change something.” These are my somethings.

    And so I commit to engaging my senses and being open to the beauty and love in my cup (even if my experience meter feels set to “low”). I believe that if I can do my part, I’ll again come into alignment faster with a Universe that offers no promises, but provides plenty of opportunity and wonder.

  • How the Deathbed Meditation Can Bring You Clarity, Purpose, and Joy

    How the Deathbed Meditation Can Bring You Clarity, Purpose, and Joy

    “Death may be the greatest of all human blessings.” ~Socrates

    There’s a lot of beauty and value in positive, light-and-love approaches to mental, emotional, and spiritual well-being.

    But I challenge you to go a little deeper and to face something we’re all going to experience eventually:

    Death.

    I know this may sound macabre, bizarre, or downright unappealing. But hear me out!

    There is a certain power and beauty in consciously visualizing and meditating on one’s death.

    What could be more awakening and more revealing than putting your current self into the perspective of your dying self—into your last few moments?

    Such a precious practice helps to bring a stunning clarity and crystalline focus to everything going on in your life.

    Indeed, what is referred to as the “deathbed meditation” helps you to:

    • Figure out what is most important to you
    • Let go of old pains and hurts
    • Focus on what brings you joy
    • Find your true life path
    • Uncover your hidden gifts

    As humans, we tend to live our lives as though they will never end. From one day to the next we live in a kind of autopilot mode where we take everything (and everyone) for granted.

    The deathbed meditation is a powerful practice you can incorporate into your life whenever you feel lost, stranded, stuck, out of focus, or simply aimless.

    My Experience With the Deathbed Meditation

    I’ve always been someone who desperately needs a strong purpose in life.

    But something happened last year that tossed me into a dark existential crisis where I questioned (1) what my place in the world really was, (2) why old wounds were rising to the surface, and (3) why I felt so lost—despite having a strong self-care and spiritual practice.

    With the advent of COVID-19 and the retriggering of old traumas, I felt empty inside.

    You know that feeling of falling and not having anything to catch you? That’s how I felt.

    Witnessing the suffering in the world and in my own circle of family members, I realized something major: “I could die tomorrow.”

    I realized this isn’t a groundbreaking thought; we all have it at some point (I know I have). But in that moment it felt like a lightbulb went off in my head—I suddenly realized that the key to finding the answers to life was to contemplate something so few people dare to approach: death.

    The answers I received from that subsequent deathbed meditation have guided my life, reawoken my purpose, and fuelled me with vision ever since.

    How to Practice the Deathbed Meditation

    Doing the deathbed meditation is an act of radical self-love. There, I said it!

    Why radical? The deathbed meditation is radical because it’s rarely mentioned or practiced by anyone (that I’m aware of) due to its intimidating nature.

    But let me assure you that the answers you can potentially find are so soul-nourishing, so meaningful, so profound, that you will be overjoyed that you courageously took this step.

    Before you embark on this inner journey, please ensure you have a neutral mind—we don’t want minds that are feeling down or frazzled or unhappy for any reason (that will bias your discoveries).

    When you’re ready, let’s begin:

    1. Focus on feeling safe and relaxed.

    Before you begin your deathbed meditation, find a space in your house that feels cozy. You might like to place a blanket over you and a pillow behind your head for extra comfort. Draw the blinds or curtains and ensure the atmosphere is dark.

    It’s important that you feel safe and relaxed so that your heart and mind can open up and gain the most from the meditation.

    Place a blindfold, sleep mask, or cloth over your eyes so that you can’t see anything. Then take some gentle, natural, grounding breaths and settle yourself.

    2. Find some funereal music (optional).

    Some people prefer their meditations to be totally silent, but if you’d like to set the mood, find some funereal music (or music that would be played at a funeral) to prepare your mind for the scene.

    Again, do whatever makes you feel most safe and comfortable. If you prefer total silence, that’s okay too.

    3. Visualize yourself on your deathbed, surrounded by loved ones.

    In your mind’s eye, imagine that you only have a few minutes (or hours) left to live. You feel comforted and at peace with your loved ones surrounding you.

    What kind of room are you in? What kind of bed or seat supports you? Focus on some kinesthetic details to help enrich the visualization.

    4. Ask yourself, “What was I most happy to have done in life?”

    Take some moments to reflect on this crucial question: What were you most happy to have done in your life? Let images and scenes play out in your mind for as long as needed.

    This powerful question will help you to hone in on what truly matters in your current life. If you’re struggling with making an important decision or finding a life direction, this simple question could be the key to unlocking deep truths residing within you.

    5. Ask yourself, “What did I regret not doing?”

    Regret is a natural part of life, yet many of us shy away from it, trying to sweep it under the rug. To avoid accumulating too much regret, ask this simple question within your deathbed meditation: What did you regret not doing?

    Let any thoughts, images, memories, or scenes run through your mind’s eye. Take special note of them.

    6. Ask yourself, “What is the most important thing in life to me, above all else?”

    Values are what guide our lives, and yet we are often totally unaware of them. By asking the question, “What is the most important thing in life to me, above all else?” we come to understand, truly understand, what we value deep down.

    Take a few moments in your deathbed meditation to contemplate this question, letting it sink into the recesses of your mind, heart, and soul. The answer you discover can have the potential of shifting, expanding, and empowering your entire life.

    7. Thank your loved ones and end the meditation.

    Once you’re done asking all or some of the above questions, smile warmly to your loved ones and thank them for their presence in your life. Then, when you’re ready, return to the room you’re in, get up very slowly, and do a big stretch.

    You might also like to drink some water to ‘emotionally digest’ your experience.

    —

    The deathbed meditation has been one of the most powerful tools in my life for getting straight to the heart of what I most love, cherish, value, and need.

    After all, what else can put things in perspective other than our own mortality?

    If you’re feeling confused, lost, or in need of direction, I highly recommend that you try this unique meditation at least once. You might be surprised by how intensely transformational such a practice can be!

  • You’re Bent, Not Broken: A Mindset Shift That Can Change Your Life

    You’re Bent, Not Broken: A Mindset Shift That Can Change Your Life

    “Bent but never broken; down but never out.” ~Annetta Ribken

    I lived for a long time thinking I was broken beyond repair.

    Let me rephrase: I thought I was unloved, unworthy, scarred, and broken. What a package, right?

    It started young, never feeling like I was good enough for anything I did. Being the youngest of the typical modern recomposed family in the eighties, I never knew on which foot to dance and always thought I needed to bend left and right to be seen and loved.

    I carried this baggage under my badge of anxiety, feeling like no one and nothing could ever make me happy, that no one could love the real me, that nothing could ever make me feel worthy.

    It reached a point as I was entering my forties when all I wanted to do was disappear. I wanted to not be who I was. I wanted to die.

    I thought that was my only solution.

    I believed the world would be better without me.

    What I didn’t understand then is that by thinking I was broken, unworthy, unloved, and all the other awful things I told myself daily, I was pouring salt into old wounds that had no chance to mend until I stopped the self-loathing.

    The more I told myself I was broken, the more I was breaking my soul. The more I told myself I was unloved, the less I loved others and opened myself up to love. The more I told myself I was unworthy, the more I interpreted others’ words to mean the same.

    I didn’t know what I could do. I didn’t know how to get out of the storm I was stuck in. I didn’t know what could help me live in the moment and stop hurting from the past or getting scared of the future.

    How do you get out of hurting so much you want to die?

    For me: writing.

    It was the only thing I could do.

    I was losing friends left and right, closing up like an oyster, hurting myself and others with my words and actions—but my pen and paper were my salvation.

    I bled tears and words until the day I could take a step back.

    The pain, the feeling of being broken and unworthy was still here; I could barely look at myself in a mirror, even less love anyone properly. But as I was playing with my pencil not finding words for a poem I needed to write to survive, I kept pushing into a crack it had. And I pushed my nails into it, and I played with it, and picked at it and some more not really thinking what I was doing, desperately trying to find words, until the pencil broke in two.

    No, let me take responsibility—until I broke the pencil in two.

    I looked at the two pieces in my hand.

    I had played with that pencil’s crack until I broke it.

    My fingers kind of hurt, but I smiled.

    This wasn’t me. This couldn’t be me. I really didn’t want this to become me.

    I wasn’t two parts of one entity.

    I was still one.

    And if I was still one, I wasn’t broken, I was just scarred. I was just bent.

    From that moment on, everything shifted.

    I wasn’t broken, just bent. I could learn to love myself again.

    It became like a mantra I repeated daily.

    And if I wasn’t broken, just bent, then maybe I wasn’t unlovable but loved by the wrong people. And maybe I wasn’t unworthy but only surrounded by people who didn’t recognize my worth, or maybe I was blind to my awesomeness.

    And if I wasn’t broken, if I stopped playing with my wounds, then maybe the healed scars could tell a story. And if I could tell my story and help others in any way, maybe, just maybe my pain and hardship and years of anxiety and depression could become more than a feeling of brokenness.

    So maybe I wasn’t broken. Maybe I was indeed just bent.

    It was hard to say it out loud, it was hard to explain, but the moment I shifted my mindset, I felt a relief.

    I knew then I could rise from the traumas I’d gone through. Even the smallest ones.

    I could give myself a second chance at life by healing and sharing my story.

    I wasn’t broken; I was made to break the shell of my past and show that if I could do it, you could too.

    Because here is my biggest secret: I am no one, and I am everyone.

    My story is the same story as most of yours. I didn’t deal with my traumas, and they caught up. I thought I had dealt with the past by putting a bandage on it when I really needed an open soul surgery.

    I thought I could wear a mask and be loved for who I thought people wanted me to be, but this made me feel unloved to the core.

    I thought I was broken when I was only bent by circumstances I needed to untangle. I thought I was unworthy but I was capable of creating art with my scars and shining a light on the most common depression story ever to tell others they weren’t alone and could get out of it too.

    So don’t tell yourself that you are broken.

    Don’t think you need an extraordinary story to help others find their light.

    Don’t believe you are no one, because we are all no one, and we are everyone.

    I’m not a life coach, I’m not selling classes, I’m not even trying to save your soul. I’m just like you, trying to find a light of love and joy. And together, we are healing, and we have a story to write. A story about the power of choosing to see yourself as someone with strength, value, and purpose.

    Change your mindset today. See yourself as just bent, and don’t try to straighten yourself up.

    Allow yourself to be bent, and let the shift happen.

    Broken is irreparable.

    Bent is not.

    It’s not a big difference, but it might change your life.

  • Want to Change Your Life? Draw the “You” You Want to Be

    Want to Change Your Life? Draw the “You” You Want to Be

    “You are not too old and it is not too late.” ~Unknown

    In less than a month, I’ll be hitting a major “milestone” birthday. I quit my full-time job six months ago, ending a twenty-plus year career in education, and have spent time thinking about what I want the next chapter of my life to look like. I found myself thinking back to a drawing exercise I did a few years ago that has made such an impact on my being willing to make major changes in my life.

    Entering my mid-forties, I had come to a point where something just felt “off.” I wasn’t sleeping well, often waking at 3am with anxiety about real or imagined catastrophes. I was often stressed and short-tempered. I was gaining weight and my health wasn’t in the top-notch condition the way it had always been. I felt directionless and unmotivated, but wasn’t sure what I would rather be doing.

    I recalled a TED talk I had seen in which Patti Dobrowolski discussed the power of “drawing your future.” While the concept seemed a little silly to me at first, I decided to give it a go one evening while journaling.

    The end result is a poorly drawn stick figure of myself in lotus position (which I can’t actually do) and a few notes in the margins. My goal was to draw and describe myself nine years in the future. What kind of “older woman” did I want to be? What were my activities? Had I conquered anything that currently plagued me?

    The stick figure I drew has salt-and-pepper hair, as she no longer feels any need to waste her time and money trying to look younger. She instead proudly wears her silvers as a testament to her experience.

    She is a vegetarian…maybe even vegan. She practices yoga and meditation daily…possibly is a yoga instructor. She rarely, if ever, drinks alcohol. She owns her own business, makes a six-figure salary, and has a healthy nest egg for retirement.

    Most importantly, she is completely at peace with herself and her place in the world.

    That fifty-five-year-old stick figure was so far removed from the forty-six-year-old me who drew her.

    I was still spending exorbitant amounts of money every eight weeks coloring my hair. I was an omnivore though eating meat disgusted me more than I cared to admit. I practiced yoga every now and then, but not seriously, and I never meditated. While I never identified as an “alcoholic,” my drinking went far beyond the recommended single four-ounce glass of wine per day. I did not own my own business, but rather was in a job that wasn’t going anywhere.

    Here’s what I found amazing. Within weeks of drawing that picture, I stopped eating meat. Within just a few months, I had cut out dairy and eggs as well. Six months later, I dyed my hair for the last time. I do at least a few sun salutations every morning. Most recently, I stopped drinking alcohol and said “good-bye” to that dead-end job.

    The biggest change was the confidence to make all of these decisions and to realize there is a thrilling and fulfilling future awaiting me.

    I still haven’t accomplished everything that stick figure has. My nest egg is growing, but I still have a way to go before I consider myself comfortably “financially independent.” I don’t yet own my own business, and I’m still working on trying to meditate more regularly. But having this vision of the future has helped me to set manageable goals about what’s important to me.

    None of this has been done easily. It has required vast amounts of reading, educating myself, learning new recipes, and discovering that kombucha or a shrub in a fancy glass makes me just as happy (actually more so) than a glass of champagne.

    I’m blown away by how inspiring that little stick figure has been and how the simple exercise of drawing my future helped me to get clarity about what I want out of life.

    Research shows that the odds of anyone making a change in their life are nine to one. If you want to beat those odds, according to Dobrowolski, you need to see your ideal future, believe it’s possible, and then ask and train your brain to help you bring it to life.

    That’s why a picture can be so powerful. When we draw, we utilize our creativity and imagination. This gets us away from our inner critic which often runs the show and tries to keep us safe from harm.

    Once we have our picture, we’re able to close our eyes and connect the dots from the present to the future, factoring in all our life experiences and imagining the steps that would help us get from A to B.

    If you’re struggling to picture your next steps in life, consider watching Dobrowolski’s video. She encourages you to first draw your current state—with complete honesty— and your desired new reality. Add color to the new vision to make it pop. Make it something that draws you in and gets you excited. Then outline steps to take that will make your new reality possible. You may be surprised at the clarity that transpires! Draw the “you” you want to be.

  • The Past Was Part of Your Transformation

    The Past Was Part of Your Transformation

  • You’re in a Powerful Place of Transformation

    You’re in a Powerful Place of Transformation

  • How to Change Your Habits and Your Life in 5 Steps

    How to Change Your Habits and Your Life in 5 Steps

    Make the Change

    “If there is no struggle, there is no progress.” ~Frederick Douglass

    We all experience struggles. Some are seemingly insurmountable. Others, like mine, are comparatively small. Regardless of their scale, it’s what we learn from our struggles that counts.

    Mine began while at university in London. Originally from a small town in the Welsh valleys, the move to the big city was a scary one for me.

    A mum’s boy at heart, I didn’t deal well with being so far away from home. I’m also an introvert who didn’t embrace the uni lifestyle of drinking to failure, so I didn’t make many friends early on.

    The workload was tough too, and the course content didn’t inspire me one bit. I had never really considered what I wanted out of life, but I quickly discovered that rocks and complex math weren’t part it. Still, I pushed through, partly because I was stubborn but mainly because I was scared to fail.

    As I said, my struggles weren’t monumental. My first-world problems pale in comparison to others, but at the time it was hard to see past them. I felt trapped and stressed out.

    As a coping mechanism for the stress, I turned to my safe haven: sports. Martial arts, football, weight lifting—anything that allowed my brain to shut off temporarily.

    What started as an escape quickly became unhealthy. Training sometimes three times a day was only adding to the problem, and eventually things broke down.

    I started developing a mouthful of painful ulcers regularly, making it difficult to talk and eat. They came with bouts of fatigue and digestive issues too, and one particularly nasty flare up led to a hospital visit.

    A few blood tests and examinations later, the news came back that I likely had Crohn’s disease, an inflammatory condition that can affect any part of the digestive tract (from the mouth, to the other end).

    Crohn’s can be pretty miserable. Oftentimes, sufferers face a lifetime of medications and surgery. I knew that wasn’t a path I wanted. I decided right then (in a naïve and almost boisterous manner) that Crohn’s or not, I would beat this myself.

    I took a step back to examine the big picture.

    In my eyes, I had these habits that were making me ill and keeping me on a path that I didn’t want. To change my trajectory, I just needed to alter my habits. If only it was that simple…

    I soon found out the hard way that habit changing isn’t the easiest pastime. After many failed attempts, I always came back to the same question: How can we create habits that are lasting rather than ones that phase out after a few weeks?

    Eventually, through trial and error, I was able to come up with a few answers, and gradually began transforming my life. I started eating a plant-based diet, and altered how I trained, which gave me more energy.

    I read more, worried less, and meditated regularly, which reduced my stress levels and allowed me to see more clearly the road I wanted to take.

    Fast forward a few years to the present day, things have vastly improved. Although I still occasionally get health issues, the symptoms are much easier to deal with.

    Despite repeated blood tests and investigations, I haven’t been diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. Maybe it was an overzealous initial prognosis, or perhaps I dodged a bullet by changing my habits. Either way, I’m happy that I went through the struggle. It taught me a lot, and allowed me to create the life I‘m living today.

    If you’re feeling a little lost right now, or you’re struggling to implement changes, you may benefit from applying these five important lessons I’ve learned about forming habits.

    1. Start with self-acceptance.

    Most of us practice unconditional love toward our close friends and family, regardless of their flaws, but it’s rare that we show the same acceptance toward ourselves.

    Instead, we beat ourselves up over every mistake we make, and every little defect. Our big belly, our bad eating habits, our laziness, and inability to manifest change. We waste so much energy focusing on these things, energy that could be used productively elsewhere.

    Perhaps the most important step in habit changing is to first accept yourself for who you are, flaws and all. Those imperfections are what make us human.

    Instead of talking yourself down, try treating yourself as you would a loved one. Be forgiving, and realize that wherever you are right now, it’s okay.

    You’re more likely to succeed in making changes if they’re coming from a place of self-respect rather than self-hatred.

    2. Determine your values.

    It’s easy to lose sight of what’s really important to us. We’re constantly comparing ourselves to others. We get a neatly packaged glimpse into their life on Facebook, and form a false idea of perfection that we should live up to.

    We then attempt to make a load of changes to become more like that person, without considering why. We set goals that are not aligned with our values, resulting in discomfort and dis-ease, and we never commit to them long term because they’re not that important to us.

    Be you, not a second-rate version of someone else. First, determine your values by asking yourself a few questions. What would you do if money weren’t an issue? Where are you most organized and reliable? What do you surround yourself with?

    Some people value their health above all else. Others are more concerned with their family, or making lots of money, or a mixture of all the above.

    Whatever’s most important to you, set goals that align with it. For example, if you want to eat healthily, but your highest value is caring for your family, how can you reframe that goal?

    Eating healthier may allow you to spend more quality time with your loved ones, or help you do a better job of looking after them. That’s your strong reason “why” that will excite you and inspire you to move forward.

    3. Start small and build gradually.

    Willpower is not an infinite energy source, and when forming habits we should avoid tapping into it as much as possible.

    I’m a sucker for getting over zealous and trying to make many big changes at once, but rarely does this ever lead to long-term success. Lasting changes are made from many small steps added together, not from a flick of the switch.

    Rather than fixating on an end goal, plan your next few steps in that general direction, then execute them. If you want to eat healthily, maybe start by changing your breakfast, and nothing else. When you’re fully comfortable with that, perhaps begin to adjust your lunch.

    Take your time, and don’t be tempted to bite off more than you can chew. Commit to the long haul rather than looking for the quick fix. It’s a more satisfying process, and each small step you take, you build your self-esteem, and your ability to produce further change.

    4. Build a support network.

    I’ve always had the tendency to try to tackle problems on my own. I thought asking for help was a sign of weakness, but the opposite is true. Building community is an important part of forming habits. It was only when I involved others that I really started to see success.

    Perhaps tell a reliable friend about the next few steps you’re taking with your new habit, and ask them to hold you accountable with weekly progress reports. Maybe even introduce rewards. This can give you that extra push you need to succeed.

    5. Embrace failure.

    Many of us grow up fearing failure. The reality is that failure can be a good thing, but we’re not taught how to deal with it properly. For most young people, failure is met with the less than inspiring statement of ”Oh well, better luck next time.” They’re left feeling deflated, with low self-esteem and nothing to act upon.

    You’ll likely fail several times when changing your habits, just like I did (and still do). First, realize it’s okay. Those road bumps are a vital part of the learning process.

    Secondly, search for the lesson. Failure teaches us what we can do to improve so we can come back next time as an upgraded version of ourselves. Maybe it means altering your goal to make it a little easier.

    Make your adjustments, pick yourself up, and get back on the path to fulfilling your passions.

    Make the change image via Shutterstock

  • 20 Tiny Changes That Can Completely Overhaul Your Life

    20 Tiny Changes That Can Completely Overhaul Your Life

    “It is better to take many small steps in the right direction than to make a great leap forward only to stumble backward.” ~Proverb

    Ever felt down in the dumps, absolutely sure that you wanted to transform your life but no idea where to start?

    About three years back I stood at that intersection.

    I’d spent years earning one advanced degree after another, until I landed myself a job that paid well but the stress level was so high that I had little room for anything else.

    I’d married a wonderful guy whom I’d fallen crazily in love with, but our relationship had slowly, almost without our knowledge, spiraled downward until it seemed like all we felt toward each other was anger and disdain.

    After years of trying, we had a beautiful little girl, but she has such a strong-willed, determined personality that we clashed on a daily, sometimes hourly basis, and I was ready to pull my hair out.

    Every moment at home, someone was yelling, sulking, or seething.

    Something had to change. I wanted to make things better. More peaceful. More “normal.”

    Except, I had no clue where to start. Or what to do. Or how to make the transformation that I so wanted.

    I started trying anything and everything. A few things stuck. Many didn’t.

    Slowly, a pattern started to emerge: Big, massive, overzealous changes almost always backfired and led to disillusionment and disappointment. Small, tiny shifts in attitude, on the other hand, had a huge cumulative impact.

    I still remember one period where I’d decided to not yell at my daughter, no matter what. I’d decided to become a positive parent and as such, be supportive all the time.

    If you’re a parent, you know how this is going to end.

    I managed to hold it in for all of three days or so. And then, suddenly, on some minor provocation, I let loose. All the dammed up irritation and frustration just came flooding out, while my daughter stared at me in utter shock and fear.

    This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! I actually felt worse now than earlier!

    I didn’t want to give up. So I kept trying.

    As one attempt after other failed, I got more and more disheartened.

    Finally, almost in desperation, I decided to focus on something else entirely—since I seemed incapable of not yelling, maybe, I thought, I can figure out why my daughter behaves a certain way and then try to prevent that situation altogether.

    Suddenly, something magical happened.

    The more I stepped into her shoes, the more I understood why she acted like she did. And the more I understood her reasons, the less I felt the need to yell.

    For instance, she wasn’t just defying me when she refused to wear a jacket—her toddler brain just couldn’t grasp that it was cold outside.

    So instead of asking her to wear the jacket while we were still at home, where it was warm and cozy, I’d wait until we got out and the cold draft hit her before asking her to wear the jacket. And most of the time, it worked!

    It was as if I had deciphered a secret code.

    Now, instead of trying to stop yelling, I started to make a conscious attempt to understand her a little more, and with each little effort, I was automatically yelling a little less.

    And you know the best part?

    Quite without our knowledge, the relationship between my husband and me started to change, as well. I was suddenly snapping and yelling at him a whole lot less, too. And in turn, he started being kinder, gentler, and more the person I had fallen in love with.

    Even in the dog-eat-dog culture that was rampant at my then workplace, people responded with reciprocal kindness and goodwill. And I, in turn, found it a whole lot easier to be a better co-worker.

    It was a beautiful, virtuous circle.

    It’s been three years now. I’ve been focusing on making more and more of these small, tiny changes and they have been paying off big time. Our home is a whole lot more peaceful. We enjoy each other’s company a lot. My relationship with friends is richer. Life is good.

    I still have ways to go, but the change, the transformation that I was seeking, is happening.

    Toward the end of last year, in a moment of quiet reflection, I listed some of the small shifts in attitude that have helped me so, and others that I seek to practice in the New Year.

    I’m sharing them with you here in the hopes that they may help you make the transformation you might be seeking.

    1. Less Anger, More Understanding

    When we can understand why the other person acts the way they do—whether they are three years old or thirty—the need to yell automatically starts to diminish.

    2. Less Complaining, More Gratitude

    When we look at all the wonderful things in life, the things that don’t go well start to seem trivial.

    3. Less Blame, More Guidance

    When we get hurt, it is instinctive to want to make the other person “pay,” but if we can guide the person to fix the situation, things are more likely to get better sooner.

    4. Less Judgment, More Wonder

    We are all unique, different, and a wee bit crazy in our own way. The best way to counter the urge to be judgmental is to cultivate a sense of wonder at each person’s uniqueness.

    5. Less Resistance, More Acceptance

    The more we resist something, the more it persists. The more we accept it, the less it bothers us.

    6. Less Shame, More Vulnerability

    Shame is a deep-seated fear that we are not enough. Yet, it’s a fact that none of us is perfect. When we accept the imperfection and embrace it, the tight grip of shame starts to loosen up.

    7. Less Fear, More Action

    We cannot reason with fear, especially the irrational one that stays in the head. The best way to make change happen is to take action and keep moving forward.

    8. Less Comparison, More Contentment

    Our life seems like a drag when we compare our “behind-the-scenes” with the highlight reel of someone else’s life. Focusing on contentment kills the need to try to keep up with the Joneses.

    9. Less Will Power, More Habits

    It’s scientifically proven that we have a limited supply of will power, and the more we exert it, the less we have for future use. So whenever possible, turn things into habit, limiting the need to use will power.

    10. Less Guilt, More Communication

    We all make mistakes. Communicating how badly we feel and figuring out how to fix things will keep guilt from gnawing away at our happiness.

    11. Less Obsessing, More Balance

    Embrace all shades between black or white, and the need to obsess on the extremes starts to shrink. Particularly helpful for recovering perfectionists like me!

    12. Less Competition, More Cooperation

    Come at things from a place of abundance and seek intentionally to cooperate, and the fear of competition starts to melt right away.

    13. Less Stress, More Fun

    If there is one thing we can learn from kids, it is to have fun. Ever notice how few kids are actually stressed?

    14. Less Greed, More Generosity

    Finding joy in giving is the perfect antidote for a case of the gimmes.

    15. Less Distraction, More Rest

    Seriously, make getting a fixed number of hours of sleep each night a priority, and distractions like social media and television will automatically stop killing productivity.

    16. Less Bitterness, More Forgiveness

    Bitterness only hurts the person carrying it. Forgive those who hurt us and move on.

    17. Less Control, More Flow

    Some things are simply out of our control. Learning to go with the flow helps tone down the urge to control.

    18. Less Stubbornness, More Openness

    What if we are wrong some times? Being open to accepting failure and constantly learning makes life so much simpler and beautiful.

    19. Less Expectation, More Patience

    Start small by delaying gratification with little things. As we learn to be more patient, our expectations of how/when things should turn out start to relax as well.

    20. Less Ego, More Humility

    Easier said than done, but the more easily we can say “sorry” and “thank you” (and really mean it), the less hold ego has on our life.

    —

    What has your experience been? Have you also experienced that small, tiny shifts in attitude can result in huge transformations? What are some of the small changes you’ve made that have resulted in a life overhaul?

  • Never Give Up: An Inspiring Transformation

    Never Give Up: An Inspiring Transformation

    This video has already been viewed more than nine million times since it was posted last year, but I just saw it for the first time today. If you’ve never seen it, I highly recommend taking a few minutes. It will challenge your understanding of what’s possible, in general and for you personally. And if you have seen it, perhaps this is coming at just the right time to inspire you again. It moved me to tears, and action.

  • The Butterfly Circus: An Inspiring Film about Struggle and Transformation

    The Butterfly Circus: An Inspiring Film about Struggle and Transformation

    What do you believe about yourself, how does it keep you stuck, and how high could you fly if you finally let it go? Poignant, beautiful, and moving, this short film brought me to tears. It’s a story that reminds us that anything is possible, if only we believe it.