Tag: wisdom
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The Past May Have Shaped Us, But We Have the Power to Change
“If you want to fly, you have to give up the things that weigh you down.” ~Toni Morrison
Our very first relationship is the one we develop with ourselves. However, even that one is shaped by outside forces.
You may or may not believe that we choose our family. Regardless of your position regarding how your soul made it to your parents’ household, the truth is that the environment we are born into determines a great deal of the rest of our lives. This is especially true about the way we relate with ourselves and others.
We learn by observing and experiencing the dynamics in our home. Our brains absorb the discourses. The judgments passed over us and the stories told about us become a part of our personality. The words we hear from the voices around us become embedded into our inner voice.
We end up with a creation from the hands of Dr. Frankenstein: a patched up combination of voices that we later adopt as our own. That voice plays a huge role in how we develop a relationship with ourselves and, therefore, with those around us.
The outside world shaped the inner reality that, in turn, will facilitate how we relate to that outer world.
We learn from the way that our caregivers react to stress, from how they manage their anger, and how they engage in arguments.
We learn from how they treat themselves, us, and the rest of the world.
We learn about limitations and about fear.
We learn to worry and to lie.
We learn to yell out and to bottle it all in.
We learn to over-react and to act like leaves at the mercy of the wind.
We learn to micromanage and to be oblivious to life.
We can learn the extremes. However, we can also learn balance.
What is your vision for yourself? I’m talking about a real life vision, not about your annual income goal, or your income-to-debt ratio, or that degree you’ve been meaning to get. I’m not talking about the car you want or the trip you’ve dreamed of. Not that those things are bad or meaningless; they’re simply not a vision, they’re goals.
What I am asking is: What is your vision? What state of being do you wish to create for yourself? What kind of relationships to you want to nurture? How do you want to feel?
My parents did their best to give me the best they had to give. I learned about hard work, being of service in the community, and believing in the divine. However, I did not develop anger management and conflict resolution skills, calming strategies, a healthy self-concept, or effective communication and decision-making skills.
In other words, I was a typical clueless adult who was able to make money and run the rat race functionally. But I knew very little of myself, or how to develop healthy relationships with myself and others.
As a matter of fact, I had no idea what healthy relationships looked and felt like. This led to a bumpy road that involved quite a few panic attacks, aggression, toxic relationships, isolation, and a social media and sugar addiction. The details of my journey are truly irrelevant. However, the lessons gained do have value.
It started with answering questions I had never asked myself. Also, tools such as meditation, counseling, spiritual work, a lot of reading, journaling, praying, and developing a support village assisted me in the journey.
Being open to the process is quintessential. So, I invite you to address the following questions with an open heart and observe your thoughts about yourself and others.
Take note of the things you visualize on a daily basis. Do your visualizations match your vision? Or are they hindering it?
What does a healthy relationship with yourself feel like?
How about the conversations you have with yourself? How did that voice form?
Where do these stories about yourself come from? Are you truly that person?
How is your relationship with yourself? Are you hyper-critical? Do you “bash” on yourself? Or do you make excuses for yourself?
What type of relationships do you envision for your journey?
What type of narratives do you create in your mind with those who surround you? Do you imagine arguments? Do you mentally practice “come back phrases”? Do you spend time rehearsing irrelevant hypothetical situations? Do you declare negative labels on the rest of the world?
Your early caregivers started the work of raising you, but you are the one responsible for continuing it. We are never done growing. You are not done. The universe is not done with you. Now it’s your turn to help yourself create the reality you envision for yourself.
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Life Is in the Little Things: Finding the Extra in the Ordinary
“The difference between ordinary and extraordinary is that little extra.“ ~Jimmy Johnson
“Write about what we did today,” my daughter said. She knows I often write once she is asleep.
Dully I thought, “What we did today wasn’t that exciting.” Yet, for her, it obviously was.
She gets lost in her experiences, deeply entrenched in the realms of her imagination that continue to weave each experience she is having.
From my perspective, I took the kids and their friends to a nature reserve so they could get muddy and play. I needed them outside, away from the house where cabin fever sets in quickly and the mess builds up even more quickly along with my stress levels.
Instead, we had a nice walk, first to see a waterfall, then for them to play in a stream and slide in the mud. After that, we had a picnic and I watched them all get lost in game after game led by their imaginations.
When we got home my daughter set about making a Lego creation; there is a national competition going on and she wants to enter. She created a platform with a throne for the queen to sit upon after she climbs the magical rainbow-colored staircase. She had been reflecting upon that staircase the night before long after she should have been asleep.
To the side of the queen was her courtier, and they overlooked a courtyard where many of her subjects had gathered so they could have a conversation. The courtyard was filled with beautiful flowers and another large plant that stands in the corner.
The nuances of this creation I am sure to have missed, but I glimpsed beyond the plastic bricks that my mind wanted to adjust here and there, resisting the urge to ‘fix’ them. It was a thing of beauty.
As is her habit every day, she also drew several pictures, each with its own story, ever evolving with lots of princesses and fairies. Then there was the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory audio book that she finished listening to, and the story of the Unicorn Riders we read at bedtime, each with their own stories and life lessons to untangle and reflect on.
Not to speak, of course, of the majestic bun she has insisted upon having in her hair these holidays, with four braids that I carefully reproduce every few weeks (after a trip to Fiji last year). My hair dressing skills seem to have unwittingly evolved in all these requests.
For me, I was just getting through another day of the school holidays. For her, though, she was a princess dreamily going about her day.
After the kids were asleep, I pulled out the journal I keep to record all the things to be grateful for, or that were uplifting. Here is the sad effort I wrote:
“The sun shining through the leaves at the reserve warmed my soul.” That was it, other than noting with thanks that my partner had gone to work all day long to provide us with money.
Yet when I’ve sat down to fill my cup with a little writing, another voice speaks from within. One that sees much more in the day than I obviously had at first glance; it sees the ‘extra’ in the ordinary.
When my daughter said to me a few days ago “It seems like I’ll have more fun when I’m young than when I’m old, Mum,” I understood why she thought that, but it also made me a bit sad.
I lamely told her adults experience fun in a different way, then I realized I was just kidding myself. While that in itself is true, I knew there was no kidding the kids; they know when you are having fun or not.
It’s time for an attitude shift. Sure, when I took the kids to the pools the other day, I did it to get it over with, since they have been nagging me for months to go. It’s an indoor pool, noisy, busy, and it stinks of chlorine. When I was a kid, I would have loved it too. Even as an adult, if I had peace to swim in the large pool it could be enjoyable.
But being responsible for the lives of two little kids who are not yet able to swim properly yet go hurtling into the depths when the wave machine comes on, and in separate directions, it’s not so relaxing.
Today, however, was more relaxing. No chlorine smell, only the smell of freshly cut grass. No loud echoing background noise, just the sound of kids laughing and playing.
Come to think of it, we passed a really tall tree with fruits scattered all over the ground underneath; they looked like lemons. Except this tree was about twenty meters tall, so it was a bit of a mystery to me, and it was quite nice just to notice it and wonder what it was.
It was also quite lovely to see the various dogs going past with their owners, clearly loving being out running around just as much as the kids were.
After our picnic I even joined in the fun by doing a pretend tap dance while all the kids sat on a bench watching and giggling.
When we got back to the house, the kids had all enjoyed their time in the fresh air and sat quietly drawing while I was able to hose down the clothes caked in mud. I have to admit to some satisfaction in seeing the colors of those clothes emerge again from the mud-brown-grey they had turned.
I enjoyed listening to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory as much as the kids did, and it was interesting to connect the dots on a recurring dream I used to have, any time my life got a bit out of control, about the lift that went sideward and upside down.
And when I came to read them their bedtime story, the Unicorn Riders pulled me in to their mythical world and left me on a cliffhanger as it was time to turn out the lights.
Now, here I am, sitting contentedly tapping away on the keyboard. My cat is curled up next to me purring away. I am now reflecting on what a joy it is to have these kids that I waited for so long to come.
Even though they drive me nuts at times, and life can be pretty intense, it is worth it to glimpse life through their lenses.
I’ve also just realized that my long awaited new pillow arrived today, contoured to cater for exactly the way I sleep; this is not just great news, it is sheer bliss. How could I have left this and all these other snippets out my journal?
All these years spent longing for things, recording my dreams, and yet once they are here somewhere in my psyche they turn to hum drum, stressful even. “This is what it is to be human,” I remind myself. “To always want something more.”
It’s the age-old paradox of noticing what about my experiences I would like to change, while still appreciating in the moment the things that I do have. Instead, I seem to have slunk down into just taking for granted what I am experiencing and getting frustrated that what I want isn’t here yet.
This is dumb, I know. It would be healthier to celebrate the sheer miracle that this life I am leading has been entirely of my own making. There is so much power in that. I remember a few years back, when my partner complained to his godparent about how hard it was to look after the kids, she reminded him that this was his dream.
It’s true, it was our dream to have a family, and we spent years trying to make that happen. My partner even wanted two girls; he had names for them and everything. After we realized we needed to stop trying so hard, our wish came true.
But it’s not just about kids; it’s about the place we live, the life we lead, the people around us—it’s all of our own making. And it’s actually pretty spectacular.
I’m reminded of a little exercise of Marisa Peer’s I did one day, where I had to imagine seven-year-old me turning up at the front door of our house in my mind’s eye. I had to invite young me in and show her around. It was quite an emotional exercise. Looking at my life today through young me’s lenses was pretty gratifying.
Thanks to my daughter, the dull response to her initial thought that I should write about today has turned to a sparkle. It wasn’t so unspectacular after all, I realize. In fact it was quite extraordinary and really quite fun.
So often we focus on what’s lacking, or what didn’t meet our expectations, but we’re a lot happier when we appreciate the little things and recognize the beauty in the ordinary.
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In Search of the Sacred: Escaping Facebook’s Sticky Web
“You leave the present moment every time you check your phone.” ~Deirdre Jayko
Facebook was driving me to distraction! One late-winter evening, I prepped for a mood-saving hike in the snow. Magic happened on the trails in the moonlight. I decided to check Facebook for a friend’s answer to a message.
Who knows what caught my attention, but I ended up skipping from post to post. Once I emerged from my Facebook haze, I realized it was too late to walk safely. What had I accomplished in place of my hike? What did I even read about?
As I put away my warm clothes and went to bed, I promised myself I was going to change my Facebook usage. It was eating away at my life. I was driving myself to distraction.
Social media usage bothers people for a variety of reasons. Drilling down on those reasons reveals a larger theme of loss of control. In spite of ourselves, we spend way too much time scrolling through mindless content. Seemingly against our best intentions (sometimes, against our will), we waste countless hours on the site.
My frustration level only escalated once I made the decision to torch my Facebook profile. Getting off the site seemed impossibly complex! What about people I only had contact with through Facebook? What about seeing photos of relatives and friends? What about the writings and photos I loved to share? Each time I planned on hitting “delete,” I would give up and decide it was too complicated.
Every morning, I would roll out of bed and check Facebook. The silly thing was: I didn’t want to check Facebook. It was a subconscious habit. I didn’t even realize I was doing it.
A red notification of some type would fuel my addictive response. Someone liked my post. Someone commented on a post. A close friend posted something new or had messaged me! That little red symbol is addicting, especially if your life is stressful. It gives your monkey mind an unsatisfying play date with the inane.
One of my passions has always been escaping to the woods for a solo hike. One cold, crisp February morning, I chucked my smart phone into the trunk and set off down the trail into the woods. I was the only human on the prowl, and it felt great.
Clambering along, I took a hard look at my Facebook addiction. I was bothered by the unhealthy anxiety reliever and the gambling-like satisfaction of the red-symbol jackpot. Yet, it seemed something deeper was bothering me about my Facebook use. I wanted to explore this feeling in more detail.
I sat watching squirrels scampering through the tree heights. I reflected on that slightly sick feeling accompanying social media usage. We become caricatures of ourselves on Facebook. The nature of the beast is such that experiences are condensed into soundbites for public broadcast—an exaggerated and polished version of a moment. My real-time sharing with family and friends was much different than this public sharing. Online interactions lacked substance and depth. On some level, they are not authentic.
Thesaurus.com shares some synonyms for caricature: cartoon, parody. distortion… mockery? And (ouch): travesty and sham. Maybe too harsh in some situations, but, honestly, these words reflect my feelings about posting.
Instead of chilling with my squirrel friends, I would scroll mindlessly as time slipped away, as my life slipped away. I made a pact with myself to delete my Facebook account. I created a statement of intent in my journal, signed and dated it.
I still didn’t get off of Facebook.
A few weeks later, I cruised to work, jamming to my favorite Gordon Lightfoot songs. The open road and dreamy music made me feel young, wild, and free. Suddenly, texts from my kids began interrupting the music. I had notifications coming in on Messenger.
As a result of some of those messages, I began fighting the urge to check my work email before I arrived. I cursed silently that I had not taken the time to learn how to disconnect the damn phone, so I could just hear my music. Constant bombardment of stimuli. Not only irritating but also unsafe.
I turned my phone off and threw it in the back seat. SILENCE. As I watched the trees and fields skimming by, I thought about my life before all this technology. I was beyond revolted with perpetual connectivity. I drifted back to my resolve to delete Facebook.
I practice my spirituality in the woods. My nature time is sacred time, my interface with the Great Mystery. As I added gadgets, my secret, unique, sacred relationship with the earth had seemed harder to access. Would I ever feel that connection again? A hypothesis began shaping in my mind. Would I feel more spiritual and be able to access a deeper level of awareness if I got off of Facebook?
I thought about the sticky web that is Facebook. Not only did I have over 200 “friends” of varying levels of intimacy, I had hundreds of photos and memories all neatly time-lined for my reminiscence. I felt the stress of giving up a potential audience for my creative works.
I was stuck in an uncomfortable spot for several weeks. I wanted to get off Facebook to test my hypothesis, but I inexplicably felt trapped on the social media. I began to realize how I was being manipulated in an unhealthy way.
I couldn’t torch my Facebook despite my great desire to plunge deeply into my spirituality. I was hooked. I hate being hooked or controlled by anything. So, I redoubled my efforts. I developed a plan to get off Facebook in steps.
In the first step, I deleted people I really didn’t know. I quickly deleted about thirty people. It felt good to finally start on my goal. I focused on being more in tune, being more aware, being more spiritual.
As I whittled down my friends, the people became more intimate. People that mattered in my “real” life. I started getting confused about who to delete next and how to delete them. Should I send them a note? Would that be strange? Should I make a public post?
I stalled for another couple of weeks. I was acutely aware that social media traps people and creates a labyrinth of complexities, a maze of prisons. I didn’t like how that made me feel.
A few weeks later, I opened my journal to write. My signed pact stared back at me, forcing me to address this disturbing phenomenon of being trapped on Facebook.
That evening, I curled up on the couch with a cup of coffee. My sole intent was to reduce my social media presence. I sent a private message to select people, explaining I was leaving Facebook and providing my contact information.
A few wrote back, asking, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” My ego raised up a bit. Wow, they think something has gone wrong in my life. I should stay on Facebook to prove nothing is wrong. I slayed that ego dragon and pressed on with my quest.
As I mass deleted my friends, Facebook acted like a real creature, bombarding me with more “people I may know” than ever before. It made me wonder if the site is programmed to recognize when someone starts deleting friends. Maybe not…but the new potential friends were very intriguing.
How did they manage to target my profile with these people? I was tempted to click on some of the new profiles but moved on towards the goal. At times, the process of deleting friends felt great, but mostly I felt a sense of loneliness.
Eventually, I had no friends. I experienced a mix of relief, sadness, and anxiety.
Even the shell without friends proved a sticky trap. I belonged to groups that only posted on Facebook. I also had “liked” very entertaining pages. Could I give up Randy Rainbow videos, and adorable pictures of cows and elephants from the Gentle Barn and the Elephant Sanctuary? Yes, I can access their websites when I need a fix. I ‘unliked’ all my awesome pages.
The hardest sacrifice was abandoning all my kids’ pictures and my life experiences neatly time-ordered. I pressed on because I wanted a deeper, more authentic life.
I was ready for the final step—deletion! I couldn’t find the deletion button. Deactivation is not the same as deletion. All your info is stored and ready to be resurrected. I didn’t like this privacy issue, and I didn’t want the option to reactivate! I found it easier to google “delete Facebook account” and follow a link from a separate website, than try to find the instructions on Facebook.
Finally, I found the delete account button and smelled freedom. Like a creepy, ex-partner who decides he isn’t going to be rejected, Facebook notified me deletion would take two weeks, and I could hop back on anytime in that two weeks.
Thinking back on all the sticky traps of Facebook and the recent media attention on privacy breaches, I thought, “Why do we allow this? Why are we okay with this?” It is not authentic or satisfying to live this way.
The first afternoon free of Facebook felt super! A few days later, I felt similar to when I left home for a new job in a new city. Kinda lonely and lost, but ready for a new adventure. I definitely missed my friends back in Facebookland. I wondered if I would ever talk to some of them again.
I jokingly asked my kids, “Do I still exist?” Sometimes, I caught myself clicking through news sites more often, simply out of habit. I realized some of my clicking provided a method of anxiety relief. The other sites just didn’t have the addictive quality of Facebook, and I eventually quit the mindless clicking.
As the days move on, I notice subtle differences in my thinking. I feel a soft, calm sensation as I drive to work or create projects. I notice light patterns as the day shifts to dusk. I am more present in my own life. I feel a novel sense of boredom from time to time. Surprisingly, I really like feeling bored. It has stimulated my creativity and my humor. You have to work a little harder when there is nothing to do.
One morning, I was goofing around with my dogs on the couch, playing with their paws, scratching their ears. I had not really connected with them in that manner in a long time. A kind of bored goofiness came over me that had been destroyed by the constant clicking. I felt like a little kid, lazing on Saturday afternoon. Boredom is not a bad thing.
I also became really aware when my loved ones were ‘hooked up.’ It seemed weird that they would be so intent on staring at screens. It should seem weird, shouldn’t it? We’ve been deconditioned to this insanity.
Occasionally I have moments of discomfort about my exodus. What about when my son graduates? Or, I have an article published? Or I travel to an exotic location? What if I take a killer photograph or observe a rare animal in the woods? Who will know?
I guess I’ll share these experiences, successes, and photographs during lunch with my close friends and around the table with my family. At this point in my life, that feels so right to me. My smoother, more relaxed, unplugged mind is savoring the days I have left.
I went to the woods today. I walked quietly and softly on the earth. I left my iPhone at home. The perfect scene for a photo and an unexpected animal sighting went uncaptured. With no phone to grab, these snapshots won’t be shared with the masses. How refreshingly beautiful.
A little squirrel scampered on a tree, chattering to me. It was so quiet, so calm in the woods. I became lost in the moment. I felt that deep, sacred connection with nature that is so precious to me. I transcended into that other world, the world that remains hidden from a noisy mind. A place void of anxiety, of ego, of caricature. A place rich with connectedness, with earthiness, with authenticity.
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Made a Big Mistake? What to Do Instead of Beating Yourself Up
“Note to self: Beating yourself up for your flaws and mistakes won’t make you perfect, and you don’t have to be. Learn, forgive yourself, and remember: We all struggle; it’s just part of being human.” ~Lori Deschene
When I was in twelfth grade I took a World Issues class and learned about colonization, child soldiers, and how some children, by no fault of their own, had a much more challenging life than I’d had. After that, I wanted to help but wasn’t sure how.
Then, at age twenty-three, I was hired at a non-profit organization where I had the opportunity to work with teenage girls in prison. Finally, I had a real opportunity to help and I wanted to be perfect.
It was my dream job. I was excited. But then I made a big mistake.
I walked into the prison and filled out the visitor’s sign in sheet. I waited until Sharon, the classroom teacher, came to meet me.
She was rushing, as she often was, trying to accommodate me and keep teaching her class.
“A couple of girls tried to knock themselves off last night, including Kate,” she said quickly, “so they’re not in class today. But it’s fine to go ahead with the interview.”
“Attempted suicide?” I stammered.
“Yeah,” said Sharon, “They’re just trying to get attention. Don’t worry too much about it.”
I cringed. My breath got short and my stomach tightened. I couldn’t imagine that it was only about getting attention, and something felt off about going ahead with the interview.
Before I really had time to process what had happened Sharon opened a door with her key card and held it open. “Kate’s in here with one of the staff, go ahead. She’s fine,” she said. I stepped through. She let go of the door and walked off quickly to get back to her class.
I was interviewing Kate that day for a blog post. My organization wanted to profile her to show the breadth of work that we do. I had a list of questions I’d prepared and a recording device.
I’d been working with her class for a couple of months. I was running a workshop on advocacy, so I went in once a week. I’d brought in guest speakers to inspire the girls, and now they were working on their own advocacy project—telling their stories through a short film.
I liked Kate. She wasn’t afraid to share her opinion and was a bit of a class clown. She was seventeen and had had a difficult life but was tough and resilient. I could tell her sense of humor helped all the girls through the hard days.
She seemed fine. We joked around and then got into my prepared questions. I turned on the voice recorder and started asking her about her childhood and her life.
Half an hour passed quickly and then I packed up my voice recorder and said goodbye. A staff member took me through a series of magnetic lock doors and I left.
When I got back to my office there was a message from the manager of the prison on my voicemail. She’d heard I’d asked Kate how she ended up in prison. Kate hadn’t answered, but since youth in Canada have special privacy rights when they’re involved with the law, the manager was very upset.
She was also upset that that I’d interviewed Kate when she was in a vulnerable state and said that never should have happened.
I felt terrible. My face got hot and breath shallow. I’d wanted so desperately to help and now I felt like I was making things worse.
“What’s wrong with me?” I asked, “Why didn’t I follow my instincts and postpone the interview? Am I really making things better or am I just making things worse?”
These thoughts ran through my head for weeks following the event and I began to seriously question if I could do this job.
And I was scared of messing up again, so I became a perfectionist with everything I did. I would spend weeks editing a single email to make sure there wasn’t something inappropriate in it.
And eventually it got to be too much. It was my dream job but it was too hard. The girls’ stories were too sad. I couldn’t do as good of a job as I wanted to.
I could barely get up in the mornings. I was too tired, too depressed. I was burning out.
So I quit.
I knew I couldn’t look for another job; I’d just be looking for something similar. I’d landed my dream job but couldn’t do it. I needed to press the reset button on my life.
So I moved to a yoga and retreat center in the Canadian mountains and spent two years learning to meditate, learning what was within my control, how I could help, and what was not my responsibility.
And eventually, I learned how to forgive myself for the mistake I made with that young woman. I realized that my intentions were good, that I hadn’t meant to hurt her, and that I’d made a mistake but it wasn’t quite as big as I’d thought.
And after two years of studying yoga, I went back to the same job. Working with youth with similar stories, I learned to do it better. I still made mistakes but was better at forgiving myself. And I could see that the positive impact I was making outweighed these errors.
If you’ve made a big mistake (or even a small mistake!) you can forgive yourself too.
Here’s how:
1. Tell someone you trust.
The best thing I did after making the mistake with Kate was call my boyfriend. He listened to the situation and then said, “Bryn, honestly, if I was in a rough place and had attempted suicide, you’re exactly who I would want to talk to the morning after. I’m sure your kindness helped.”
My boyfriend wasn’t the type to give compliments, so I believed him and it started the process of forgiving myself.
It might be hard to be vulnerable and share your mistake, especially if you’re feeling deeply ashamed and afraid of being judged. But odds are someone who loves you will view your mistake from a different perspective and help you see the positive intention behind the misguided action.
2. Be radically kind.
If you’re anything like me, your instinct after you make a big mistake will be to punish yourself for it. You’ll think, “I have to work harder to make up for it.” You might tell yourself, “I don’t deserve to take a bath or go for a walk in the woods.”
So try your very best to be radically kind to yourself. Take that bath. Go to bed early and get enough sleep. Get outside or take a yoga class.
We’re more prone to make mistakes when we’re tired or stressed. So if you take care of yourself, you’re less likely to make future mistakes.
3. Realize you were doing the best you could with the resources you had.
Maya Angelou said, “When you know better, you do better.”
You probably were doing the best you could when you made the mistake. Maybe you were overwhelmed or exhausted which both make errors more likely.
And now that you’ve made the mistake, you can learn from it and ensure you don’t make it again.
4. See that beating yourself up isn’t helping anyone.
Beating yourself up doesn’t take back the mistake and probably is just making you tired and maybe even depressed.
According to shame researcher Dr. Brene Brown, when you tell yourself, “I am a mistake” it sends you into a shame cycle that is correlated with depression, addiction, eating disorders.
The good news is when you tell yourself, “I made a mistake” you can learn from it and this is correlated negatively with depression, addiction, eating disorders.
I learned a lot from my mistake. I blamed myself for hurting Kate when she was already having a terrible day. And, yes, if I could go back I would do things differently. But I eventually realized my mistake wasn’t as big as it originally seemed and my intentions were good, so I could forgive myself.
I also realized it wasn’t just my mistake I felt bad about; it was also that Kate and the other girls had such difficult lives. I needed to learn that I can’t save people, and that’s okay. I can still make a positive impact, no matter how small, even if I’m not perfect.
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If you’ve made a big mistake, I get it. It can be very difficult to overcome. But taking one step at a time, you can learn to forgive yourself and ultimately this will free up your energy to do more good in the world.
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What Really Makes Us Feel Successful
“Congratulations on becoming successful and best wishes on becoming happy.” ~John Mayer
I was living the life of my dreams.
Or so I thought.
I’ve been very fortunate to have had some very awesome opportunities all over the world.
I’ve worked to help victims of human trafficking in the shady streets of Thailand, I’ve helped build a positive community with drug traffickers in the extremely violent favelas of Brazil, and I’ve cared for terminally ill patients who were picked up from the streets die with dignity at Mother Theresa’s famous House of the Dying in India.
I also got involved with the non-profit filmmaking group the Jubilee Project, where I had the opportunity to create films for a good cause. We’ve made films with various celebrities and professional actors, and our work together has received millions of views on YouTube.
Before all of this, I graduated from pharmacy school in New York City and got a six-figure salary right out of college. I got the nice car, lived in the nice apartment, and went on the fancy vacations.
I somehow accomplished a big majority of the things I thought I’d always wanted to do, but I still felt miserable.
And this feeling followed me everywhere.
It took a lot of these cool trips and achievements to realize I still didn’t have much fulfillment in my life. So I kept on trying to find the next big accomplishment to put under my belt.
It was a horrible addiction.
Then one day, I was reading about the famous tennis player Andre Agassi, and I finally came to an eye-opening realization.
Agassi was arguably one of the best tennis players of all time and he worked his tail off to get there, but there was one huge problem. He hated tennis.
He candidly shared this in his autobiography, Open: “I play tennis for a living even though I hate tennis, hate it with a dark and secret passion and always have.”
The reason for this was because he never wanted to play tennis. It was his father who wanted him to. Since an early age, his father pushed him to train for endless hours to continually improve so he could get to the skill level he was at.
Even when Agassi won his first Grand Slam title at Wimbledon, he called his dad to tell him the great news only to get the discouraging reply, “You had no business losing that fourth set.”
I saw similar parenting methods to Agassi’s father in the Korean culture I’m from.
Children were pushed to work hard toward a certain path that the parents already had in mind for them. It was usually to become “prestigious” people such as a doctor or a lawyer. These children had to spend much of their leisure time studying so that one day the parents could brag about how “successful” their children were.
This cultural standard indirectly influenced my life and defined my beliefs of what success looked like. It was very achievement oriented.
Then the truth finally dawned on me.
All of my life, I’ve been chasing after other people’s definition of success.
I tried to become rich, I tried to become respected, and I tried to achieve fame.
When I dug even deeper in to my own life story, I realized these weren’t the things that mattered to me most to begin with and that’s why no matter what I did to achieve these things, I never felt successful.
The Truth About Achieving Success
Simon Sinek, author of Start With Why once shared a very enlightening story.
“I went to an event for high-performing entrepreneurs and the question was asked of the room, ‘How many of you have achieved your financial goals?’ Amazingly, 80% of the room raised their hand. Then the question was asked, ‘How many of you feel successful?’ and 80% of the hands went down. This example alone shows that there is little to no connection between the standard measurement of success and the feeling of success.”
When I became a filmmaker and got into screenwriting, I learned that your main character always must have an external goal, but what’s most important is to show clearly what the worthy internal goal is. This is the key element that turns a good story into a great one.
For example, you may see a hero who wants to save the world, but the movie doesn’t turn as interesting until you learn that maybe he’s trying to save the world in order to find redemption for his past mistakes where many people died.
If the external goal is something that doesn’t actually help the character achieve his internal goal, then you don’t have a story.
For most people, there is a severe disconnect between their external goals and their internal goals.
It took me almost all my life to realize maybe my definition of success was wrong to begin with. Whether it was my parents, my friends, or society, I let others set the standards for me.
It was never my own goals I was trying to achieve. It was someone else’s, and this was the biggest reason for my unhappiness.
“’Success’ can only truly occur internally, because it is based on emotion. At the most basic level, success is your relationship with yourself. Most people are living a lie. They purposefully ignore and distract themselves from what they deep down want for themselves.” ~Benjamin P. Hardy
You can never achieve success, you can only feel it.
But feelings are hard to tangibly measure, so people tie success to things like money and fame. And these are the types of things people tell you to chase after to solve all your problems.
Why We Tend to Chase After The Wrong Goals
I grew up very poor and my father wasn’t the most financially responsible person.
He once gambled my college savings away. He also threw himself into a ton of debt after multiple business start-up failures. Then when no one would loan him money anymore because of his horrible credit, he started opening up new credit card accounts under my mother’s name. Eventually, he ruined her credit as well.
This was what led my mother to separate from him.
I didn’t know it until later, but I realized since a very young age that all I thought about was making money because of these circumstances.
I remember looking at my fifth grade yearbook and my answer to the question “Fifteen years from now I will be…”
So I worked a ton growing up. I worked my first job illegally when I was fourteen at the Manhattan mall folding clothes for five dollars an hour. During college, I was juggling my studies and three other jobs.
I was naive and thought a lack of money was causing the pain that actually came from my parents not getting along.
When I finally achieved my external goal of making a lot of money, I still had trust issues. I still had the pain from the broken relationships in my life. Things didn’t feel any better.
I was still hurting from never having a safe space to be myself growing up, and this was when I realized the truth.
We try to avoid our hurt and pain, and as a result, we often make misguided decisions on what to pursue in order to actually feel successful.
For example, if you grew up with a father who was mentally abusive and often told you that you wouldn’t amount to anything, your anger might lead you to chase after a well paying job to prove him wrong.
The unfortunate part is that proving him wrong won’t necessarily make you feel any more successful because what you’re really craving is a supportive father.
This is why it is so important to be able to develop the skills to be able to accurately assess what is needed to help you truly succeed.
Ensure That Your External Goals Align With Your Internal Goals
According to Harvard Professor Daniel Gilbert, known as the happiness expert, data shows one of the biggest reasons for people’s unhappiness is their inability to predict what types of things will make them truly happy.
He advises us to simply do our research in advance so we can better predict if what we are chasing will make us feel successful or not.
“If I wanted to know what a certain future would feel like to me I would find someone who is already living that future. If I wonder what it’s like to become a lawyer or marry a busy executive or eat at a particular restaurant my best bet is to find people who have actually done these things and see how happy they are. What we know from studies is not only will this increase the accuracy of your prediction, but nobody wants to do it.” ~Daniel Gilbert, The Truth About Happiness May Surprise You
My real desire was to have a safe space to be myself and have more authentic connection in my life, but everything I was doing was making the opposite happen.
Then I started studying and having conversations with people who had what I wanted. I realized the people I’ve met who have great relationships all were continually vulnerable with each other, and when they felt stuck and needed help, they reached out to the right people.
So to try and build the relationships in my life I so desperately wanted, I started changing my external goals.
I set a goal to have the courage to be vulnerable when I’m feeling shame.
I changed my goal for my wife and I to go see a marriage counselor.
I changed my goal to learning to be more honest with my wife when she hurts me instead of shutting her out and temporarily shunning her.
These changes made all the difference and I finally started to feel successful.
I had a skewed perspective on the things I thought would help me succeed. The parable of the Mexican fisherman is a great reminder that we need to define success for ourselves, based on what makes us feel successful, rather than letting someone else define it for us.
Maybe you don’t feel successful yet because, like me, you’ve been chasing after the wrong things based on what others have told you.
Take a moment to think about what types of actions will help you attain your internal goals. What might your new success measurements be?
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Stop Talking So You Can Start Feeling
“Don’t hide from your feelings. Press into them. Learn from them. Grow from them.” ~Unknown
There have been times in my life when you could look at my cell phone call log and see back-to-back conversations for hours. I am blessed to have a large support system of loving friends and family, and there have been many times when that has saved me from facing my pain.
If you know anything about attachments styles or are one of millions who suffer from anxiety, you will relate when I tell you that I spent most of my life incredibly anxious. Most of my anxiety had to do with me dealing with people: going to parties where I didn’t know people, knowing someone was unhappy with me, feeling like my needs weren’t being met in relationships, etc.
I work with many sensitive people and, in more recent years, I have come to accept that I, too, am very sensitive. We are affected by words, punctuation, tone, and demeanor. We know that words say a lot and words combined with punctuation say even more and that we communicate in more ways than is accepted as normal.
If I had to cancel on a friend and she responded, “That’s fine,” I would start to get worried that she was mad at me. The response that would have appeased my anxiety would have looked more like this: “I totally understand! Look forward to seeing you another time!”
For many years I thought I had found the perfect solution to this situation: talk to my wise friends who would make me feel better. Client who was not thrilled with me? Ex-boyfriend who posted something insensitive on social media? Friend who was giving me attitude? I picked up the phone for that.
Because my community of friends was fairly vast, I was able to avoid overusing anyone (though my mom might tell you otherwise). I’d hurriedly vent my frustrations and wait to receive the compassion and wisdom from my loved ones.
I had the process down: feel hurt, pick up the phone, vent, talk about the problem a lot, hang up, and then call someone else if the wound hadn’t been totally clogged.
Analytical processing can be useful at times, but more often than not we use it as a crutch so we don’t have to feel our pain. Talking about how I was feeling made me feel productive, but it prevented me from really feeling what was under the anxiety.
Anxiety was showing me that there were some much bigger feelings underneath the surface that needed my attention, but they would be very uncomfortable to move through.
A couple years ago I went through an incredibly devastating breakup. I lost everything that mattered: my will for life, a few pounds I didn’t have to spare, and myself. Once the natural grieving process had commenced, I realized nothing had changed. I was not getting better, so I panicked and began my calling sprees again.
One morning, with tears pouring from my eyes and a deep hole in my chest, I called my mom and asked her to please fly across the country to stay with me. She was heartbroken, but wise enough to know that what I really needed was to get to the place inside myself that wanted to live. She knew she would leave, and I would not be any better off.
I hung up the phone with her that day and realized I had been using other people to avoid feeling. These feelings were so deep and dark that they felt terrifying to face, but only I could face what was living within me.
The next time the pain surfaced, instead of picking up the phone, I turned inward. I lay down to do breathwork and faced the painful emotions and fears that were keeping me stuck. Through this long and grueling process I began to transform.
I didn’t move on from this breakup like I had other times. In fact, this wasn’t even about the breakup—it was a reckoning with my soul. I used this opportunity to really get to know myself. I learned about the human condition, and I came out a different person with more wisdom and compassion.
I realized that every time I felt a twinge of pain from someone’s words or actions, I had an opportunity to investigate what that meant to me. My habit was to talk it through with people, but the talking always kept me out of really feeling and getting to know the wound it pointed to.
Through healing, I was able to accept and love the parts of myself that were wounded when others responded to me in ways that triggered pain. I was able to feel it, see where it was coming from, and love myself through it.
When I stopped talking about my “problems” so much and started to heal the unprocessed emotions causing them, they diminished. I’m able to let things slide off me more easily. When I am triggered, I can look inward to feel where it’s coming from and honor myself through it.
Instead of running from my pain by picking up the phone, I have found the strength to face my own demons so they no longer control me. Now there is more space in my relationships for interesting and uplifting conversations.
If you’re struggling with chronic anxiety and spend a lot of time talking about your problems, you can use this breathwork meditation to learn how to heal yourself. This is a practice you can use continuously and also in the moments you feel yourself wanting to avoid your pain by talking about it.
How To Breathe
This is a specific two-part inhale that moves stuck emotion from the lower chakras into the heart. Most of our repressed emotions are stored in this energetic center in our bodies. You’re going to be breathing in and out of the mouth, which connects you more deeply to your body and your emotions.
Most of us have years, if not lifetimes, of unprocessed emotions. This breathwork technique is designed to open up the energetic channels of your body and help the emotions release.
You’ll first breathe into your low belly, then you’ll take a second inhale into your heart, and you’ll exhale. This inhale and exhale are all done through the mouth. This will connect you to your body and help the energy flow. You do not need to force your exhale. Let it naturally fall out of your body like a sigh of relief.
- Get in a quiet space where you won’t be disturbed.
- Lay somewhere comfortable on your back.
- Put on a playlist with three of your favorite songs.
- Close your eyes (you can use an eye mask if you have one) and breathe as per the instructions above to the first two songs. This might feel like work, but just stick with it and focus on the breath. Feel your belly and chest rise. Feel the breath move in and out of the body.
- Pay attention to what your body is experiencing. After a few minutes you might feel your body tingling. That’s normal.
- If you feel tightness or tension place your awareness there and breathe into it. There is probably some emotion that wants to release.
- Once the third song begins release the breath and begin to breathe in and out of the nose. Let your body vibrate here for as long as you like.
Oftentimes people feel immediate relief after a breathwork practice, but it can also stir up some uncomfortable, deep emotions. This is a meditation you can work with daily to continue the healing process.
Many of us live in cultures that promote fast payoffs. Healing is a long-term game. If you’re willing to put in the work and be patient, you will begin to notice yourself changing. Sometimes you’ll notice it after one session and sometimes after several. Pay close attention and be very gentle with yourself post session, no matter how you’re feeling.
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Everyone Has Struggles, So Don’t Stigmatize Yourself
“Shame corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change.” ~Brené Brown
From a psychological point of view, my childhood sucked.
I didn’t have many friends, I rarely left the house, I was terribly shy, and I used to get bullied a lot, both physically and mentally.
My teenage years weren’t any different. The psychological issues I had as a child amplified further and created more profound problems.
When I started college, I didn’t magically become more confident or develop high self-esteem. I was almost the same person.
Now, I proudly (and humbly) can say that I’ve gotten over most of my childhood and teenage problems, including the ones related to my social life.
But I’m not here to tell you how I did that. That would probably take a book. And trust me, it’s not as glorious as I wish it were.
Instead, I want to tell you about one factor that made all the difference during my journey of change and development.
One factor that made my journey tolerable at times. Without it, I would have given up.
I’m Bad, Aren’t I?
When I was younger, I was shy, lonely, and depressed. My social skills were bad.
That, in and of itself, was hard enough.
Basically, I was witnessing my life falling apart in front of my eyes, socially and emotionally.
But do you know what was worse than seeing my life falling apart before my eyes?
It was feeling bad and ashamed of myself because my life was falling apart.
It was believing there must have been something wrong with me, and that was why I was suffering.
It was stigmatizing myself because of my problems.
I was developing harsh feelings of shame because I was shy, lonely, and depressed. And for a long time, I couldn’t ever feel good about who I was as a person.
In other words, I didn’t feel bad only because I wasn’t able to go out there and socialize. I also felt bad because I believed having these issues meant that I was worthless and inferior to other people. That I was unworthy of their attention or time.
When you stigmatize yourself, the feeling of shame very well may cripple you. You likely will not take action to solve your problems. You will think you are already a loser, so why bother?
Feelings of shame and stigma can never induce positive changes in your life. They will only induce fear, self-hatred, anxiety, and self-pity.
This was what I did for years and years. I solved nothing. I sat there pitying myself.
Am I Really Bad?
We all share the desire to connect with each other. Connection is essential for our well-being. No one can live alone; the “lone wolf persona” is just a myth.
And here’s where shame comes into play.
It’s when you feel that you are so flawed that you don’t deserve this connection. It’s when you believe you are too bad for anyone or anything.
It’s when you believe that, because you have certain problems or issues, you’ll never be as worthy as other people.
It’s when you stigmatize yourself because of your problems and issues.
It was only when I stopped doing this that I was able to get up and do something about my problems.
You know it’s hard when you work with someone who is judgmental about your every action. Someone who believes you are bad because you have issues. What if that person was yourself?
There’s a difference between guilt and shame. When you feel guilty, you’ll feel bad because of your actions, but you’ll likely do something to correct them. With shame, you’re more apt to do nothing but dwell in self-pity and self-destruction.
And in the case of stigmatizing yourself because of your problems, it’s shame and not guilt.
Own Your Problems, Flaws, and Mistakes
I remember one of the first times I started to adopt this mentality.
I was supposed to hold a microphone and talk in front of a lot of people. It wasn’t compulsory, but I was advised and expected to do it.
At that time, I was working on my self-confidence and my social skills.
But I chickened out. I escaped. I didn’t do it.
I remember sitting down to have a cup of coffee right afterward. My inner critic was torturing me. I felt like a fraud and a coward.
After all, I’d been working on my self-confidence, but I still couldn’t do it.
I started beating myself up. Feelings of shame started to develop. I started to hate myself because I couldn’t be as confident as I believed I should have been.
But then I stopped and noticed that I was stigmatizing myself because I’d chickened out and escaped. I was calling myself ugly names because I couldn’t overcome my low self-confidence.
That wasn’t a healthy response. A healthy response would have been to feel bad (and guilty) about the action but not about who I was as a person.
So, I stopped. And I told myself something like, “Hey, you have issues. But we all have issues because that’s life—everyone suffers somehow. The people around you have issues as well. Uncontrollable childhood events can screw up anyone. Work on a solution and do your best to improve. Feeling bad and inferior because you have problems is worse than the actual issues themselves!”
And man, did that save my self-esteem from collapsing.
Don’t Stigmatize; Do This Instead
This concept isn’t only about social skills or self-esteem.
It’s about any kind of problem or issue you are facing.
In fact, it’s not about the actual problems or issues. It’s about every situation that makes you feel ashamed of yourself because you feel like you lack something or something is wrong with you.
This feeling, the feeling that “something is wrong with me because I have X or Y,” is worse than the actual issues (the X and the Y).
Whether it’s depression, anxiety, failure, rejection, financial problems, family problems, or any kind of such (usually personal) issues, the concept is the same. Don’t stigmatize yourself because of your problems. Just don’t. It’s destructive. And, from the deepest point in my heart, I know you don’t deserve to feel stigmatized. No one does.
Instead, recognize that it’s not shameful to struggle, and it is possible to improve if you’re willing to accept responsibility for learning and growing.
The younger me, who was very afraid then, realized that there was hope when I did that presentation (and a couple more public speeches after). I wouldn’t have made that presentation if I hadn’t held myself responsible for solving my problems. And I wouldn’t have held myself responsible for improving if I had stigmatized myself.
It’s much easier is to make progress once you accept that having problems doesn’t necessarily mean you are a bad person or that the situation is helpless.
This lesson is easy in theory, but it takes a large amount of self-awareness, self-care, and self-love to be applied. But once applied, it can move mountains. Mountains of emotional and psychological problems that were beating the hell out of you. Choose, right now, to do that for yourself when you need it the most, no matter how hard or uncomfortable it might be.
