Tiny Buddha

Tag: wisdom

  • 5 Signs You Don’t Know What Your Body Needs

    5 Signs You Don’t Know What Your Body Needs

    “The body is a multilingual being. It speaks through its color and its temperature, the flush of recognition, the glow of love, the ash of pain, the heat of arousal, the coldness of nonconviction. It speaks through its constant tiny dance, sometimes swaying, sometimes a-jitter, sometimes trembling. It speaks through the leaping of the heart, the falling of the spirit, the pit at the center, and rising hope.” ~Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With the Wolves

    We read about all these things we “should” be doing for self-care, so we add them to our to-do list and rarely, if ever, cross them off.

    Most of us have such busy schedules, we move on fast-forward without getting any closer to the end of our list. We end up running on autopilot to the point that we ignore most of what our body tries to tell us it needs in order to look and feel our best.

    Just getting through our to-do list each day can take a toll on our body and mind. But what’s becoming more apparent is that not slowing down, not listening to our body, can be detrimental to our health—and our looks!

    At some point, I realized that I was on autopilot so often that it felt physically impossible to fit healthy eating into my routine. I tried so hard to eat the “right” foods and would always end up binging on pizza or some other junk food when I thought no one was looking. I felt so much shame and distress from trying so hard, and yet nothing changed.

    What I didn’t realize is that my body had been sending me signals all along to lead me in the right direction, but I was completely clueless. Autopilot had taken over my life, and not to mention, my body’s energy, luster, and shape. Not cool.

    So how do you know if you’re running on autopilot and are disconnected from what your body needs to function and look its best? Read these signs and see if they sound familiar.

    Sign #1: You don’t know if you have any food allergies or sensitivities.

    Do you ever wonder if you’re one of the millions of people with a gluten sensitivity or a dairy intolerance? If it turns out that you are, your body has tried to tell you multiple times.

    Common symptoms of gluten sensitivities are bloating, frequent headaches, constipation, diarrhea, skin issues, sluggishness, and so much more. Common symptoms of lactose intolerance are congestion, bloating, abdominal pain, acne, and migraines. If you’ve ever experienced any of these, your body is trying to tell you something.

    I started birth control as a teenager, since it was the only thing I knew that actually worked to keep my acne under control. At times it was so bad, my mom let me skip school to avoid embarrassment.

    When I became an adult, I tried many times to get off of it but each time I did, my skin broke out again. Adult acne felt even worse. It wasn’t until I limited wheat and dairy that I was able to get off birth control and my skin finally cleared up for good.

    Contrary to what we tend to believe, symptoms like these aren’t normal! It’s your body’s way of telling you a serious change is needed. Seriously.

    Sign #2: You frequently aren’t sure if you’re actually hungry or not.

    How often do you find yourself staring blankly into your pantry wondering if you’re truly hungry or if you’re just bored?

    In the past, I’d go to my fridge, open it up and give it a good hard stare, close it, and then walk away—only to find myself doing it again minutes later. Was I hungry? Was I craving something? I had no clue if my own body was hungry or not! I felt so frustrated and annoyed with myself for doing this time and time again.

    It sounds counterintuitive, but many of us don’t have an appetite the majority of the day simply because we just don’t eat enough food. Our body ends up holding onto every morsel we feed it for dear life.

    It’s a genuine a survival instinct. If your body doesn’t know if it’s going to get enough at its next meal, it sends mixed signals. But when your body is getting enough nutrients, you won’t have to question whether you’re hungry or not.

    Sign #3: You swear to have zero willpower when it comes to processed food.

    Does it seem like no matter how hard to try to eat healthy, you always end up choosing the food you know you’ll regret?

    Whenever I’d go through one of my clean eating phases, I’d inevitably be the girl hiding in the corner stuffing her face with the muffin she never liked to begin with. I’d be so angry with myself for not having more self-control and then feel so ashamed. I’d repeat silently to myself over and over, “What’s wrong with you? Why do you keep doing this?”

    A lack of willpower is our body’s way of telling you it needs specific nutrients (hello chocolate! magnesium needed), nostalgia (let’s recreate an old memory), or even yearnings (how alive will I feel if I eat this).

    If you pay attention to what your body is feeling physically during these moments, you may notice your throat constricting or heaviness in your belly. I argue that there’s no such thing as willpower. Your body needs something and it’s not necessarily food related.

    Sign #4: You have no idea why you’re so tired and craving junk food every afternoon like clockwork.

    Do you feel sluggish at 2:00 to 3:00 pm on a daily basis? And then find yourself reaching for the first extra sweet or salty thing you can get your hands on?

    When my afternoon slump came, all I knew is that I was so dang tired… and craving carbs and sugar like a fiend! Enter vending machine with salty chips and sweet candy bars to the rescue. I’d feel so lethargic and just awful. This vicious cycle had me exhausted and ultimately is what made realize I had to do something. I had to make a change.

    Your body’s ravenous afternoon cravings are a message. They’re screaming at you, “I need nutrients! I need fuel!” Chances are, you haven’t fed it what it needs throughout the day and your body’s only way to get through to you is to intensify your cravings.

    Sign #5: You feel extreme emotions without rhyme or reason.

    Do you ever have days where you feel like you want to scream or cry for absolutely no reason at all?

    Formerly, I sometimes experienced this during a TV show or movie. The characters would say or do something that wasn’t particularly scary or exciting, but it triggered something and I felt an urge to start bawling. It was really unnerving to realize I could cry my heart out for no apparent reason at all.

    Our nature is to take the easy route—to push any heightened emotions aside and go on with our day. (We always have so much to do, right?!) But emotions need to be felt. Otherwise, they can manifest by coming out at unexpected moments or even physically in our bodies through hair loss, skin rashes, weight gain/loss, etc.

    Your body is a magical and wise teacher. Every ache, pain, symptom, and craving is a gift in its own way.

    Think of how many chronic illnesses that are diet related. Here are some to name a few: diabetes, heart disease, cancer, dental health, osteoporosis, asthma … The negative symptoms you’re experiencing today are your body’s way of doing what it can to help you prevent a disease from manifesting in your body tomorrow.

    My mom found out she has breast cancer a couple years ago. Since then, she’s completely transformed her diet and lifestyle, and from what we can tell, the cancer has regressed.

    She’s always struggled with extreme allergies and health issues. I can’t help but wonder, what if she had listened to her body and made these changes before the cancer progressed? How much less scared and stressed would our family be? (Now she’s feeling better than she did before her diagnosis!)

    I’m not suggesting that anyone who has cancer is to blame for their diagnosis, or that dietary and lifestyle changes alone will cure it, but simply that our diet affects our health in more ways than we know.

    I learned through her story and now I’m doing the best I can to take note of every little ache, pain, flush, color, craving, and emotion of my body… before I end up with the kind of life-changing hardship that’s far more than just gaining a few pounds or adult acne.

    If your body is experiencing a persisting symptom, it’s telling you something. Listen.

    If you’re feeling an extreme emotion, your body has something it needs to feel. Let it.

    If any of these signs resonate with you, try this: Put one hand on your belly, the other on your heart and say this aloud, “Dear body, I’m sorry for not listening and not making you the priority. I really do want the best for you. I love you. I’m listening.”

    Slow down and be mindful of the signs your body is sending. And instead of adding more things to your to-do list, you’ll gradually feel more confident about what your body needs to move naturally in a positive, healthier direction.

  • I’m Not Looking for a Hero

    I’m Not Looking for a Hero

  • How I’ve Learned to Free Myself from Depression When It Hits

    How I’ve Learned to Free Myself from Depression When It Hits

    “No feeling is final.” ~Rainer Maria Rilke

    I’ve battled depression for most of my life. In my younger years, it gripped me pretty frequently. I was first hit with suicidal thoughts at the age of fifteen, and it scared the bejesus out of me. I was young and dumb and had no idea what was happening.

    When I was twenty-five it hit again. This time, however, I understood the cause. I was getting divorced, and my entire life was in turmoil.

    It was at this time that I decided that I was going to do something about it. So, I dove into the world of personal development. I read every book I could get my hands on.

    The following are some realizations I’ve had about depression and what’s helped me break free from it. This may not work for everyone, but perhaps there’s something here that can help you.

    Depression is like a Chinese finger trap: the more you try to get free, the more trapped you become.

    When I was younger, I would try to fight my feelings. I believed in facing my challenges head on. As any young man would do, I would see myself as the hero of my own story and depression as the villain.

    The last time it hit me, however, I wasn’t nearly as brazen. I laid in my bed and the feeling washed over me like a flood. One minute I was okay, and the next I was going haywire.

    All I could think about was killing myself. And the crazy part of that is that I had a great life, and that I didn’t want to actually do it. I just wanted the intensity to end. I wanted to be free from the feelings that penetrated everything I did.

    Depression is like a Chinese finger trap. The more you fight it, the more it gets you in its grasp. And the only way to get out is to do the very thing that you intuitively feel is wrong.

    You only get free from depression when you lean into it.

    I know that goes against every piece of self-help advice that exists. But depression is a different animal. You can’t positive-think your way out of depression because this kind of mental battle is a big part of what causes depression in the first place. Obsessing over your thoughts keeps you stuck in your head.

    It’s a trap of the most frustrating form because your attempts at defeating depression often serve to keep it firmly in place. In other words, your resistance to depression causes it to strengthen its grip on you.

    There is a concept in psychology and cognitive behavior therapy (CBT) called “exposure therapy.” The idea is that the more you expose yourself to the thing you fear, the less intimidating and fearful that thing becomes.

    I was able to get over my fear of snakes in this manner. One summer I made the goal to hike a certain trail near my house. However, the trail constantly had snakes on it, and I was deathly afraid of them.

    I didn’t want to give up on my hiking goals, so I forced myself to walk past the snakes. Eventually I realized that they are relatively harmless and won’t bother you unless you bother them.

    Do you fear your depression? I know I did, especially when it became so bad that suicidal thoughts would creep in. I would spend many a night in bed just lying like a brick, afraid to move because I was scared that I would do something to hurt myself.

    When you lean into your feelings, they dissipate.

    And thus is the wisdom of the Chinese finger trap. The only way out is to lean in. To stop fearing what you feel and start facing what you feel.

    When I started thinking about the things that may have been causing my depression instead of the things I thought could cure it, I got a better understanding of what my depression was.

    I saw that things like negative core beliefs and unhappiness with my career and finances were contributing to my depression, and that I needed to deal with those things. Depression, then, was more of a symptom of the real problem rather than the source.

    You don’t beat this enemy by fighting him. You beat him by standing in front of him and telling him that you are not afraid. And then you deal with the things that make him strong.

    I liken depression to a storm. It will hit you all at once, but it won’t stay around forever. If you wait long enough, the feelings will pass. And what is left after the feelings pass is in your hands.

    You can choose to let the storm of depression keep you in a depressed state even when the actual feelings aren’t there. Or you can pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep moving forward.

    Leaning into your feelings releases their power over you, but you still need to wiggle yourself free after you release your feelings.

    This is probably the most important part of dealing with depression.

    It’s not enough to just face your feelings and lean into them. If you’ve ever played with a Chinese finger trap, you eventually realized that to release its grip on your fingers, you had to push them further into the trap. However, to truly get your fingers free, you had to wiggle them back out slowly.

    This is exactly what depression is like. You may not have control over when depression strikes. You may even need medication to deal with it. But you can control what you do when you’re depressed, and you can break free. I am proof of that. I’ve battled this feeling, this inexplicable feeling, for most of my life. But I now know what true joy and true happiness is.

    You can know joy too. You can get past depression when it hits. You don’t have to let it define you any longer.

    How do you wiggle free? I use a process of deep introspection, mindfulness, and work toward a powerful purpose in my life.

    At the root of my depression were the most insecure and sensitive things I thought about myself. This is true for many of us. These beliefs run under the surface of our psyche like a motor. Pay attention to the things that make you emotional and look for the beliefs you have about yourself that are behind them.

    For example, I used to feel shame whenever someone would single me out in front of others. While this is a common feeling for people, I looked for the belief that may have been fueling that. I discovered that underneath it all was an old belief from childhood: “I am bad.”

    Now, when I recognize that this belief is surfacing, I remind myself that it’s human to make mistakes sometimes, and that doesn’t make me a bad person. This prevents me from spiraling into a shame cycle, which can easily lead to a depressed state.

    You have negative beliefs about yourself as well, and, while it’s an extremely emotional process facing them, it’s also cathartic. Find someone you trust and talk to them about these thoughts and feelings. Or journal about them to understand why you formed them and how you can let them go.

    Another powerful tactic for wiggling free from depression is mindfulness. I like to solve puzzles or do something creative to take my mind away from the thoughts that depression causes me to have.

    Note that this isn’t meant as a way to avoid your problems. Depressed thoughts are like a tape that plays automatically in the back of your mind. When you immerse yourself in an activity, you interrupt that tape and break the negative cycle so that you’re no longer fixated on negative thoughts (which is akin to pushing your finger deeper into the trap).

    It’s also helped me to fix my finances. They say that money can’t buy happiness, but that’s not the entire truth. According to this study, our income can actually increase our happiness up to a certain amount, since it’s easier to be happy when we’re not struggling to survive.

    To fix my finances, I stopped wasting money on things that weren’t bringing me joy (such as a cable subscription) and focused on ways to increase my income. I learned pretty quickly that, although being rich doesn’t make you happy, I feel a lot more at ease when I’m not living paycheck to paycheck.

    Lastly, I’ve focused on finding meaningful work. One of the biggest culprits of depression is a feeling of hopelessness and despair. So, finding meaningful work or a deeply personal life purpose will do wonders. For more information on finding meaning, check out Viktor Frankl’s book A Man’s Search for Meaning.

    In my case, I found that the career I was in was making me more depressed. I was an engineer, but the long days sitting in a cubicle were driving me mad. I wanted a career where I felt like I was doing something that mattered.

    So, I went back to school and became certified to teach. I ramped up my writing career and started freelance writing. I did more of the work that I loved to do. When you do more of the work that you love to do, you become more of the person you want to be, which makes you a lot happier with yourself and your life.

    And that leads me to the final point…

    You are not your depression. You are the person who is feeling depressed.

    Until I realized this, I was seeing myself as a depressed person, and I was allowing it to define me.

    You are not your feelings. Stand in front of a mirror and shout that to yourself. Scream it to the world. You are more than that.

    You are whatever you choose to be. See the possibilities of who you can be and move toward those things. Don’t let depression beat you up and keep you trapped. The door is open. All you have to do is walk through it.

    *Disclaimer: Depression can have many different causes, and different people may need to take different approaches to healing. Don’t be afraid to seek professional help if nothing else has worked for you. There’s no shame in needing or accepting support!

  • I’ll Never Fit In

    I’ll Never Fit In

  • True Love Is Built on Free Will

    True Love Is Built on Free Will

  • This Is Just a Chapter, Not Your Whole Story

    This Is Just a Chapter, Not Your Whole Story

  • Whatever Happens Today, You Can Handle It

    Whatever Happens Today, You Can Handle It

    From Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal

  • How I Healed My Strained Relationship with My Mother

    How I Healed My Strained Relationship with My Mother

    “Give without remembering. Receive without forgetting.” ~Unknown

    It was Sunday, April 12, 2015. I had just finished my grocery shopping and was about to leave the parking lot when I noticed a call from my dad.

    I called him back so we could talk for a few minutes. He said, “Troy died.” I thought of his friend Troy, who I’d met a couple years prior, and said I was sorry to hear his friend had passed. My dad realized I had not heard him correctly. He said “Troy, your stepdad, he died this morning.”

    I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. How could this be? He was only fifty-eight years old and no one had said he was ill. I spent the rest of the day feeling out of sorts, like I was walking around in a fog. I had not talked to him in seventeen months, mainly because I was angry with my mom. So his death left me with a big heap of regret and guilt.

    My mom and stepdad married when I was about fifteen years old. He had been part of my family for the better part of twenty years. He was a good guy and had a caring heart. Our family had its ups and downs, but he did a good job hanging in there.

    At the time of his death, Mom and I had not talked for seventeen months, as I’d reached an intense level of frustration with her. She had left me with some painful emotional wounds during my life.

    Looking back, she had suffered trauma during her childhood and it was likely playing a part in how she interacted with me. We never could see eye to eye. A phone call one evening resulted in her hanging up on me, so I decided to stop talking to her.

    So when my stepdad died, I felt uncomfortable about reaching out to her. Why should I reach out to a woman who left me with emotional scars? I felt serious panic about this whole situation and resolved to leave mom in the hands of my stepsiblings and brother; they could handle caring for her.

    Despite this, I went ahead and called Mom. As the phone rang I hoped she would not answer, but she did. I had not heard her voice in seventeen months. As expected, she was in shock and crying.

    I asked her what happened, and she told me how he was not feeling well that morning. She had tried to help him dress so they could go to the hospital. He suddenly fell to the floor and died right in front of her. She called 9-1-1 and emergency vehicles arrived shortly, but there was nothing anyone could do; he was gone.

    Mom said she had several people there with her; they were helping her navigate the next steps. It sounded like she had supports, so I let myself believe my presence was not necessary. She had always surrounded herself with people and left me feeling like I did not belong. It was easier to just go on not talking to her and enjoying the new life I was building for myself.

    One of my sisters-in-law reached out to me via text message the following day: “I know you’ve had your differences with your mom, but if you could find it in your heart to set those aside for a few days and be here for her, she really needs you right now. We are all here for her, but I know nothing would mean more to her than having you here too.”

    I suddenly felt obligated to make the hour drive to Mom’s house and see what was happening. Although I have excellent crisis management skills, I felt a little irritated at being the one who had to “fix everything” in my family. As I got closer, I felt like my stomach was going to turn inside out.

    I arrived at their house, a place I had never previously been to; they had moved there during the time we were not communicating. I went inside to find a sea of people milling about and panicked. My mind said “I can’t do this!!! I am leaving!”

    I saw my brother as I began to head for the front door. He told me our mom would be back in a few minutes. I still went to my car and prepared to drive away. She had not seen me, so I felt a quick escape was reasonable.

    Just as I was about to leave, Mom pulled in the driveway. I sat in my car watching in the rearview mirror. Someone had told her I was there and she was headed for my car. “Oh God, what should I do!” my brain screamed.

    Next thing I knew, as if under a hypnotic trance, I was getting out of the car and hugging her. She cried, I cried, we hugged and hugged and hugged. She said she was so glad to see me and we went inside the house. I spent the rest of the day on the back porch sitting next her and holding her hand.

    After my stepdad’s memorial service, family and friends began to disperse and left mom alone and feeling confused on how to proceed. For many the funeral is the final event and people go back to their homes and lives, but what happens to the person impacted by their partners death? They find themselves alone and unsure how to proceed.

    To me, it looked like being thrown out of a boat into the deepest, darkest water you ever encountered, and YOU CAN’T SWIM! Every. Single. Morning.

    For the next two years or so every day started with a phone call to Mom. I would check in on her and provide encouragement for the day ahead. We spent a great deal of time on the phone and doing things together. I never asked for anything of her and purely offered my time, no strings attached.

    It was not an easy journey to take, and it hurt to see her so pained and lost in the beginning. As time passed, it felt good to see her begin to engage in life again. I knew if we could survive the first year, it would be a huge milestone in the recovery process. Then the second year came and went, she was growing stronger and didn’t need me as much, but we still remained close, still having those morning calls and getting together to do fun things.

    During it all, we grew closer and had a better understanding of each other. The scars in my heart began to soften and fade. This experience had an outcome that no one could have predicted. By filling space with Mom, we had both benefitted and were healing the emptiness we had felt inside.

    We had never had this type of relationship before. Simply being there for her had opened the door. We did not have to drag up our painful past into the light of day and do battle over it. No screaming or arguing was necessary. I made a conscious effort to not bring up the past and put my emotional grief on her; she had enough on her plate.

    When we talked about the past, we tried to talk about happy memories—things that made us smile or laugh. The healing was occurring by simply being together and focusing on taking one day at a time.

    About ten months ago, mom retired from her job and moved out of state. She had rekindled a friendship with a high school acquaintance. They seem to be happy and are building a life together. She is also closer to some family she had been missing. I frequently miss her and wish we could do things together, like we used to do, but I also am glad she has found a joyful place in this world.

    Through this experience I realized that broken people often lash out at others in an attempt to lessen their own suffering; ever hear the saying “misery loves company”?

    I also began to understand that I had the power to put my anger aside for the greater good, because adding more darkness to our situation wouldn’t help. The goal was not to torture Mom; she was already defeated and did not need someone to kick her while down.

    I extended the love, kindness, and attention I had always wanted to her, and it began to have a profound healing effect on us both. I truly believe not dragging up the past helped us move forward; discussing it had no benefit in this situation. I think if we had started down that path, it would have pushed us further apart.

    I will forever treasure the time we embraced the darkness together, survived it, and emerged stronger women.

  • Never Change to Be Accepted by Others

    Never Change to Be Accepted by Others

  • They May Not Be Avoiding You

    They May Not Be Avoiding You

  • I’ve Learned That I Deserve…

    I’ve Learned That I Deserve…

    When I was growing up, my parents never spoke to me about what I “deserved.” They spoke to me a lot about what was “expected.” They were very clear about that.

    They expected me to be tough, hard-working, well-read, and smart. They expected me to help others, especially those struggling on the margins. They sent me to work in impoverished parts of the world, so I would realize I was very lucky and really had nothing to complain about. They expected me to go to church every week, to be honest, to help my brothers, my cousins, my community. They expected me to hold my head up and keep walking forward no matter what.

    They expected me to stand up when they walked into a room, something I continued through their dying days. The list of their expectations went on and on. And along the way, their expectations of me slowly became my own.

    But over time, another word crept into my life. Slowly at first, even timidly, because for me the word and the concept felt foreign, maybe even embarrassing.

    That word was deserve. To think you “deserve” something when others have so little felt arrogant and selfish—as in, Who do you think you are? I got that message from my parents.

    But I’ve come to understand that there is power in the idea of deserving.

    For example, if you’re a hard worker, you deserve to be appreciated and respected by those you work with. That’s not asking too much. And if you work a lot, you deserve rest. My parents wouldn’t like me saying that, but it’s true. Resting your body and your mind isn’t lazy, it’s being smart. You and your body deserve to rest, so you can be healthy. Emotionally and physically—and then work some more! (That’s the part my parents would like!)

    You deserve to be treated kindly by your friends, family, and significant others. As I say to my kids over and over, “Your siblings deserve your respect.” And as I say to their friends, “So do I. So stand up when I come into the room, look me in the eye when you talk to me, and don’t you dare text at the dinner table!” I realize that if we don’t treat ourselves as if we deserve these things, it’s hard for others to see that actions like those are important.

    So what do you deserve? That’s up to you. I can only answer with what I have come to believe I deserve.

    I deserve to be happy. Much of that is in my control, but just knowing that I deserve it has helped me be happier. And being treated kindly and respectfully starts with how I treat myself.

    I deserve to rest and take breaks. That’s why I go to Cape Cod every now and then for a few days. I’m not yet at the place where I can say I deserve a really long vacation, but I’m working toward that “deserve.”

    I’m no longer embarrassed to admit I deserve these things, too: I deserve to live in a safe place. I deserve to love and be loved. I deserve the right to dream again. Yes, I do. Dreams are not just for twenty-somethings. Dreams are for all of us at any age.

    I deserve to grieve in the manner that works for me. If that’s longer than others would like, so be it. I deserve to have people around me who tell me the truth, lift me up, want the best for me. I deserve to take time for myself. If that’s to read, take a nap, go out to lunch with friends, that’s fine.

    I deserve to laugh as much as I want.

    I deserve to not know. That’s right. Until I know, I deserve to be unsure or uncertain of how I feel about something or someone. It’s okay. I deserve to express my opinions, and I don’t deserve (nor, by the way, does anyone else) to be attacked for what I said, for who I am, for what I believe. I deserve the right to change my beliefs once I’ve seen they hurt me or hold me down, or when I discover a better way.

    The list goes on, and it can also grow and change. In fact, I expect it to. I hope it will. I deserve that.

    I write all this in the hope that you will think about what you deserve. I hope you will allow space in your life and your mind to have this conversation with yourself way earlier than I had mine. It’s not selfish or arrogant. It’s a way to be kind and loving to yourself.

    This thing called life is a magical journey. I find it doesn’t always make sense. It’s filled with uncertainty, joy, struggle, surprises, disappointments, and rewards. It isn’t always fair or clean and neat. You deserve to design it the way it works for you and then redesign it if you want to.

    That’s what I’ve come to expect. That’s what I’ve learned I deserve.

    Now go have a great day. You deserve it!

    —

    From I’VE BEEN THINKING… by Maria Shriver Reprinted by arrangement with Pamela Dorman Books / Viking, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC. Copyright © 2018 by Maria Shriver

  • 6 Powerful Steps to Stop Binge Eating for Good

    6 Powerful Steps to Stop Binge Eating for Good

    “As long as you are breathing, there is more right with you than wrong with you, no matter how ill or how despairing you may be feeling in a given moment.” ~Jon Kabat-Zinn

    Binge eating is hard. For me, winter time has always been hardest.

    The winter of 2011 was particularly bad. It was then that I sat, hands clasped around my knees, thinking about how best to kill myself.

    Hopeless only scratches the surface of what I was feeling—that same feeling I’d had on-and-off for fifteen years. I was twenty-three. I’d spent half my life in darkness.

    I went over the mathematics: Depression + Eating Disorder = Agonizing Existence.

    I was finally ready to admit I needed help. So as I sat there, I vowed to put an end to my suffering. I told myself “I’m going to give this one final push. I’ll put all of my energy into stopping this continual depression, and these cycles of binge eating and starving myself. If it still doesn’t work, I’ll just kill myself.”

    It really was that simple.

    By the end of 2011, I didn’t want to kill myself anymore. A few years later, I’d stopped binge eating completely. These days, I’ve never been happier. I don’t get depressed anymore. I am healthy, mentally and physically, and I try to live every day in gratitude, happiness, and well-being.

    That’s how I know you can do this too, and why today I’m sharing with you six powerful steps that I found essential to my journey.

    1. Realize there’s nothing wrong with you.

    I know it feels like you’re a disgusting, terrible person for binge eating. I know you don’t understand what’s going on, or what happened to your “willpower.” I know you’re starting to feel insane.

    But listen up: there is nothing wrong with you.

    Binge eating isn’t about food; it’s about emotions. People deal with their emotions in all kinds of ways. If you’re at the end of your tether, you might do drugs, you might drink, you might get really angry with the people you love, you might have anxiety attacks, and/or you might binge eat.

    This isn’t a judgment call. Binge eating is just what you’re doing to try to deal with difficult emotions in the best way you know how right now. That doesn’t mean you’re broken, that doesn’t mean you’re going to “be like this forever,” and it doesn’t mean you can’t learn how to cope in different and more productive ways.

    It’s completely natural and normal to want to feel better. So although it’s not ideal to binge, know that it is human, and it is okay.

    2. Reattach your head to your body.

    Up until I was twenty-three, I didn’t even know I had a body.

    I will never forget this: one day, I was walking up a hill to my office (I was doing a Ph.D. at the time) and suddenly I just felt terrible. Then I was frustrated that I had been feeling okay, and suddenly everything had become unbearable.

    I’d just learnt about mindfulness, so I did what is known as a body scan (where you “scan” each part of your body with your mind, and notice whatever is present, without judgment).

    You know what I realized? I was just really hot from walking up the hill.

    I took my coat off and felt instantly better.

    This moment was huge for me. I’d spent so long in my head that I didn’t even realize I had a body–that it too had needs—and that I needed to listen.

    As well as allowing you to get back in touch with physical sensations in your body (like temperature, and gentle, non-scary sensations of hunger), mindfulness increases your control over your emotions (more precisely, it increases activation of the medial prefrontal cortex, and decreases activation of structures like the amygdala that trigger our emotional responses.

    That’s good news if you’re binge eating. Maybe right now there’s a disconnect between your mind and your body, but by using mindfulness to gain more control over your emotional responses, you’ll start to learn to decide whether to listen to those calls to eat emotionally, or not.

    Action step: Start doing the body scan once a day. If you can’t manage thirty minutes, start with two minutes every day. Then build it up to five minutes, then ten. Start slowly and build it up over time. This is about practice, not perfection.

    3. Shift your self-worth.

    I’ve always been athletic, but while at University, I decided to “get in the best shape of my life.” I trained excessively: high intensity intervals, multiple times a day. I became obsessed with what I ate. I weighed myself multiple times a day, checked how my belly looked in the mirror every opportunity I could. I called myself fat at every single opportunity, and always felt incredibly self-conscious everywhere I’d go.

    In reality, I was a skeleton, but all I saw was fat, fat, fat.

    When my obsessive exercising and restrictive eating turned into binge eating, I didn’t know what to do. I was so ashamed of myself for my actions and what I was doing to my body after “all that progress I’d made.”

    All of my self-worth was in how I looked, and how thin I was. It felt like binge eating was against everything I stood for.

    I decided I needed to be stronger, both mentally and physically, so I joined a gym and began to train for strength. Binge eating made me feel completely out of control, but by showing up to train no matter how I felt, I started to realize that I actually did have control—that I could still act in the way I wanted to, even if I didn’t feel like it.

    I realized that I always had a choice.

    It’s important to say at this point that strength training has been a helpful part of my recovery, but you don’t need to go to the gym to stop binge eating. In fact, exercise can be unhelpful for many people, especially if you aren’t listening to your body when it needs to rest and recover.

    Indeed, while my commitment to strength training boosted my self-worth in the short term (and helped me stop binge eating), I eventually recognized I was too focused on my performance. I never quite felt like I was achieving, doing, or being enough.

    I now know that we are all so much more than how we look, how much we weigh, and how well we perform, so I recommend a diversified approach to building your self-worth. Instead of tying it to your body, focus on a variety of things, like being a good friend and relative, acting with integrity and honesty, and taking care of yourself enough so you can give back to others.

    So many people who binge eat are overachievers and perfectionists, but when you’re in this deep, it’s a sign that you need to diversify your identity away from perfection, dieting, exercising to extremes, and working too much.

    Instead, I recommend trying to figure out what you truly value in your life, then focusing on the process of becoming the person you ideally want to be. 

    Action step: Take a few moments to ask yourself: What do you value in your life? I don’t know about you, but when I’m lying on my deathbed, I don’t want the only thing people can say about me to be:

    “Well, at least she had a six pack.”

    No. I want to be so much more than just a body to the people in my life, and to myself. I want to be kind and strong, encouraging and inspirational. I want to love.

    Do you value being a good friend, parent, sibling, artist? Do you value your well-being? Could you start practicing gratitude for the things you have in your life, including your body? Could you practice just sitting, breathing, and being human?

    4. Find the diamonds in the turd. 

    Right now you’re focused on all the times you binge, all the times you have these strong urges to eat, and all the other things that you are doing “wrong.” But, I guarantee you are doing so many things right.

    I call these the diamonds in the turd.

    For example:

    Maybe there are only actually two to three hours each evening where there’s a strong urge to binge. Right now you’re focused on that time, but think about it: for twenty-one hours of the day, you don’t want to binge. That’s great! It’s also powerful information, because recognizing when you’re most prone to a binge is going to help you stop.

    Maybe you notice that you feel more prone to binge after you’ve had a bad night’s sleep, or when you’re stressed, anxious, or worried. Is it possible to get more sleep? Can you plan to get more time in for your wellbeing in general?

    Maybe you notice the urge to binge is stronger after you’ve looked in the mirror and insulted how you look, or when you scroll through Instagram and see athletes, models, and random happy people that you want to look like. Can you limit your time on social media, or only follow people that actually help you? Can you be kinder to yourself in the mirror?

    By starting to notice your own behavior—by becoming a detective about it, rather than judgmental critic—you’ll see there are plenty of things you’re doing right. This means you can begin to focus more time on the actions that are helpful (like taking better care of yourself through sleep, and taking time out just for you), and limit the unhelpful things (like social media, diet blogs, and your negative, hurtful self-talk).

    If you’re not sure where to even start, try making a tally chart of the number of times you catch yourself thinking about food today. This will make you more aware of your thoughts, which means you’re more likely to be able to catch yourself and say:

    • “Okay, I’m thinking about food. Does this mean I need something else right now?”
    • Or maybe just “Okay, I hear this thought, but it isn’t helpful right now. Let’s focus on something else.”

    It will also make you aware of how often your food thoughts aren’t occurring:

    “Okay, so today I caught myself fantasizing about food 37 times, but 50,000 thoughts go through my mind every day! So I’m not thinking about food ALL of the time. So when am I not thinking about food? Can I do more of that?”

    Action step: Find your diamonds in the turd:

    • What’s different about the times where I’m not binge eating / don’t want to binge eat?
    • Where am I when I do, and don’t, want to binge?
    • What activities am I doing?
    • Is there some way I can do more of the things that help, and less of the things that don’t?

    5. Stop restricting.

    There are many scientific studies showing a strong correlation between diets and binge eating. (Here’s a summary of just one of those studies.)

    If you’re finding it difficult to stop binge eating, one of the best things you can do right now is to stop restricting yourself. That means giving yourself permission to eat any food, at any time. It means not starving yourself the day after a binge, or doing excessive amounts of exercise because you “slipped up.”

    When I suggest this to people, there’s normally a lot of hesitation. I totally understand. You’ve been dieting and restricting your intake for so long that it’s scary to try something different. But binge eating isn’t serving you any more, and if you don’t eat enough, or eat what you’re really craving, then you will simply never be satisfied.

    Instead, satisfaction can be increased (both physically and psychologically) by bringing awareness to your tongue. How does your tongue feel in your mouth? How does the food feel, and taste, on your tongue?

    A lot of people talk about mindful eating, and this will definitely help, but only as long as it doesn’t feel restrictive. If “eating only when you’re hungry” feels too restrictive right now, then it’s totally fine to eat when you’re not hungry. If “eating mindfully” feels too restrictive, it’s okay to not do that for a while.

    When you’re ready, you can begin to introduce one mindful bite a day, then one mindful bite per meal.

    Action step: Try to stop restricting foods. If you binge, try to do it as mindfully as possible (giving yourself full permission to do so). When you’re ready, you can introduce mindful eating into some of your meals.

    6. If you do binge, follow these three steps.

    Trust me, you’re going to “slip up” on this road, but that’s okay. You’re in the process of learning the skills you need to cope in a more productive and healthier way. That takes time.

    These three steps will help you if you binge eat:

    Step 1: Forgive yourself immediately. (That was a tough moment, and you didn’t behave in the ideal way. That’s okay, you’re human, and you’re learning. Think of what you’d say to a friend going through the same thing, then say that to yourself.)

    Step 2: Try to become curious about what happened. Try to pinpoint what caused it. Was it a particularly stressful day? Were thoughts whizzing around in your head? What could you do to increase your self-care the next time that happens?

    Step 3: Wait until you’re next hungry, then try to eat a “normal” meal (just some basic veggies, protein, carbs, and fats). Don’t try to overthink it, and don’t try to restrict.

    The great thing about this is you will always get hungry again. And when you are, it’s another opportunity to practice listening to your body’s natural hunger signals.

    Finally, no matter what happens, just remember: as long as you’re breathing, there is more right with you than wrong with you.

    Illustration by Kellie Warren. Find her on Instagram @kellistrator.

  • Be Selective with Your Battles

    Be Selective with Your Battles

  • Focus on the People Who Inspire You

    Focus on the People Who Inspire You

  • I Hope That Works Out for You

    I Hope That Works Out for You

  • Walking Through Fire: Change Can Be Scary, But It’s Worth It

    Walking Through Fire: Change Can Be Scary, But It’s Worth It

    “What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.” ~Charles Bukowski

    I used to be scared to walk through the fire.

    I was scared to do deeply unsettling, terrifying, hard things.

    I was scared to face my biggest fears and struggles head on.

    And for the greater part of my twenties, I did everything I could to avoid the heat.

    In particular, there was one fire that scared me to my core.

    As I graduated college, I was the happiest I’d ever been: I’d met my very best friends, traveled to small, colonial Mexican towns, studied meaningful subjects, and earned top grades. I was a natural student—alive and excited as I learned new languages, read interesting books, and idolized my professors. I was energetic, excited, and passionate; I’d created purpose—layers and layers of purpose—in every part of my college experience.

    Naturally, I was scared to death to graduate.

    Would I feel this fulfilled ever again? Would I be able to learn like this, so unabashedly, so completely, so happily, ever again? Would I meet remarkable people like this ever again?

    I’d finally gotten everything figured out—purpose, happiness, friendships—and I had to start all over again. Start a new life.

    As we were packing up, getting ready to leave, a friend’s words stuck with me: “This has been the most amazing four years. But don’t worry, we’ll find this again. The best is yet to come.”

    My heart sank. I didn’t believe him.

    With a heart full of dread, a mind full of doubt, and no clear path ahead, I graduated from college. I had to. But I vowed that I would always be my vibrant, college self—that the “real world” would never change me. That I would never grow up to be boring and dull. That I would avoid the pain of moving on for as long as possible.

    That next chapter of my life—becoming an adult, diving into a job, paving a career path, making new friends, moving out, settling down, becoming more responsible—was a big, blazing, hissing fire, probably the biggest I’d ever seen. God, it looked so scary.

    Instead of walking through that scary fire, instead of moving forward, I did nothing. I stayed exactly where I was, pain-free.

    I went back to my old college campus almost every weekend. I drove to different cities all over the east coast to visit my college friends. I half-assed a few corporate jobs. I partied heavily and frequently, like a college student on a never-ending spring break. I spent all my money like I had no future. I lived at my parents’ house, with no plans of moving out or moving on.

    As my friends were settling down and changing, walking through their own fires, I called them “lame” and “boring.” “At least I’m still my fun, college self,” I thought. I was the same old me and always would be—the life of the party.

    But that fire never stopped blazing in front of me. It was always waiting for me, taunting me, daring me to walk through it. “Turn the page.” “Grow.” “Be someone different.”

    As the years passed, six of them in a row, I was too afraid to even look at the fire. Even though it was getting harder and harder to ignore, I just couldn’t imagine how painful it would be to walk through it. To change, to grow.

    So I turned away from it. Instead, I drank a lot. I ate even more. I settled into dangerous routines—partying every weekend, sleeping a few hours, and eating takeout every night.

    I was waking up in the middle of the night, panting and gasping for air. I started to lose interest in all of my TV shows, my job, my social events, my health, and my family. I was living in a messy house with clothes everywhere. I was gaining weight uncontrollably—almost sixty pounds in a few years. I was at the doctor almost every week with sinus and coughing problems. I had no money, no credit, no motivation. Honestly, I was exhausted. Every day, I’d ask myself, “Is this it? Is this all there is to life?”

    The fire continued to burn more brightly than it ever had. But, for the first time, I wasn’t so afraid to look at it, to examine it more closely. Huh. That was weird, it didn’t look as scary as it used to.

    “Could I survive walking through it?” I wondered. I could almost hear it tell me, “You’re already in pain. Walking through the fire can’t be any worse than this.”

    So I had two choices: continue being the woman who clung to her college glory, her outgrown, empty life, or be the one who walked through the fire.

    So I did it. I finally walked in.

    And it wasn’t easy. As expected, it was painful as all hell.

    I started saving every penny. I quit my nine-to-five job—the one that had financed my drinking and partying—to take a trip to South America, where I was forced to sit with my scary thoughts.

    I said no to all of my social obligations—all of the weddings, the happy hours, the club hopping, the after parties—and wondered if my friends hated me.

    I started cooking at home, and my cooking was terrible.

    I dusted off my laptop and worked from home, doing data entry projects and transcription jobs, even though I desperately wanted to nap.

    I started a savings account when all I wanted to do was splurge at a restaurant and have a few beers.

    I went to bed early, even though I dreaded nighttime. I meditated. I cried. I scrubbed my house, from top to bottom, for hours at a time. I took long, soul-searching walks. I wrote in a journal with furious intensity. I had heart-to-hearts with my sister that ended with both of us in even more tears.

    Yeah, it was painful. The fire was changing and transforming me, just like I knew it would.

    But then, the pain started to subside.

    Glennon Doyle, my favorite writer, talks about walking through fires like this one. In the Big Magic podcast, she says that she actually runs toward fires, because they will (1) either warm you to your very core or (2) burn you up, creating a new, better person that walks out the other side.

    My fire did both.

    After the pain, I started to feel, well…warm. Like when I ate my first successful meal—my homemade meat sauce—and sat in a clean room for the first time in forever. When I hugged my journal after I wrote “I love me” in it. When I meditated with a world-renowned, enlightened guru. When I sat in front of beautiful fountains, lost in thought, in a Chilean park. When I snuggled up in my PJs, on a Saturday night, and watched the Disney Channel.

    At the same time, my fire burned me the hell up. It did. The old me, the one that I had preserved for years, was gone. I wasn’t the same people-pleaser anymore. I wasn’t the “partier” anymore. I wasn’t the tired, exhausted, sad girl anymore.

    In her place was a stronger woman—someone more spiritual, direct, and in tune with her feelings.

    I became a better friend, because setting boundaries had actually made me more loving, patient, and understanding with others.

    I became creative—a painter, a writer, and a planner.

    I became a goal-setter, and someone who could actually accomplish those goals.

    I became a person who will never run away from her fires again, because they’re life-changing and worth it, every time.

    So this is what I say to you.

    Run toward your fire. Don’t look back.

    Yes, the flames will hurt. But the most beautiful moments in life are not easy. They’re painful. They’re challenging.

    The pain of growth is better than numbness.

    You deserve to grow. You’re meant to grow.

    Let that fire warm you up, or change you, or both.

    The more fires you run toward, the warmer, stronger, and more loving you will become. You can do this.

    To walking into the fire! Onward!

  • This Too Shall Pass

    This Too Shall Pass

    From Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal

  • The Most Precious Kind of Friend

    The Most Precious Kind of Friend

  • A Truth to Be Accepted

    A Truth to Be Accepted

  • What Ultimately Changes the World

    What Ultimately Changes the World