Tiny Buddha

Tag: wisdom

  • Why I’m No Longer Hiding Behind My Privilege and My Spirituality

    Why I’m No Longer Hiding Behind My Privilege and My Spirituality

    “How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.” ~Anne Frank

    We’re all just spiritual beings, bumbling along in human bodies, trying to make our way.

    Trying to find the delicate balance between living in a physical world and embracing our higher selves.

    In my quest for spiritual enlightenment, I learned how to narrow my focus. I learned to tune out the noisy Facebook newsfeed, I don’t watch the news, and I avoid saying things just for the sake of controversy.

    For a while, this worked. As my vibe rose, I started living a life more fulfilled and happy. Whenever people around me got hung up on the latest news story, I was content to basically plug my ears and say “nanananana not listening” and go back to my abundance-minded podcasts and books.

    I meant well, I really did; my feeling was that if I were to just focus on the problem, then I was only adding to the noise and not helping the world find a solution.

    I didn’t want to just shout at what I’m against, so I didn’t shout at all.

    But then, Charlottesville happened.

    Full disclosure, I’m a white, English-speaking, thirty-something woman living in Canada. I was tempted to do what I’d been doing when it came to the news—avoid googling it and getting the full story. I didn’t want to “add to the bad vibes.”

    But for some reason, I felt a pull to understand this one and I could barely stop myself from typing “what happened in Charlottesville” into Google.

    I was horrified at what I saw, needless to say.

    Let me back up a bit.

    As a white woman, I’ve been somewhat self-conscious in spreading an abundance-mindset message. For a long time, I thought, “Who am I to even talk about this, when life has clearly been much easier for me than for some others?”

    I was very aware of my white privilege, and it made me self-conscious. I was scared of the backlash I might (rightfully?) receive if I were to spout things like, “You can create your own reality!” on social media.

    “What do you know about real life, middle-class white girl?” I was afraid they’d say. “Must be easy for you to say!”

    Because, although I’ve certainly had hardships, my life has been pretty charmed compared to others who grew up homeless, or in abusive situations.

    So back to Charlottesville. I felt an uncontrollable pull to understand more thoroughly what happened here. Why, all of a sudden, a group of white supremacists felt it was okay to gather and spread their hate. The KKK marched with no masks—just let that sink in for a second.

    The things I was feeling went against everything I’d been practicing in my effort to achieve a higher state of enlightenment.

    I was angry. I was ashamed. I hurt for my fellow humans, particularly Heather Heyer and her family.

    This time, I couldn’t just “not have an opinion on it.” I couldn’t just bury my head and act like ignorance is bliss. I couldn’t choose not to participate in the human experience.

    I realized that I could use my white privilege one of two ways: to contribute to the problem, or to the solution.

    To say nothing and ignore it would be to invoke my white privilege in favor of the problem.

    Because let’s face it, I am privileged in that I could just bury my head in the sand, and it probably wouldn’t affect my daily life. Nobody would shout hurtful racial slurs at me, simply because they feel empowered to. I don’t ever worry that I got turned away for a job because of my ethnicity.

    Spirituality is a beautiful thing, but not when it causes us to turn a blind eye to the experience of our fellow humans, under the guise that they somehow “attracted” it.

    Because even if that’s true, does that make them any less deserving of our support and compassion? Of course not.

    The problem is, fighting against something just makes it bigger and gives it more power. So how can we affect real change?

    I don’t have all the answers, but here’s the beauty I see coming from all this:

    The victims of these hate crimes died for a reason bigger than themselves, and not in vain.

    The world is at a crucial boiling point that would never have been reached if these people didn’t feel empowered to show their true colors.

    All the hatred is coming out, and while it would be better if it didn’t exist at all, this is actually a good thing, because you can’t have real equality when the problem is swept under the rug.

    It’s caused me (and countless others in privileged positions) to check themselves and question their beliefs and behavior.

    More people than ever are using their voices to make the world a safer, and more compassionate place.

    You don’t have to sit and stew in the problem with those affected in order to show your support. I’m not saying you have to put all your energy into fighting against the problem. You don’t have to feel guilty for being white (if you are too), and nobody’s accusing you of being a racist.

    But we can have each other’s backs.

    Simple things make a difference. Like actually listening and believing someone when they talk about their experiences, instead of shrugging them off because they’re “being dramatic” or “too sensitive.” Telling your family or friends when they make an insensitive (and so not funny) joke. Catching yourself when you make snap judgments about someone based on their ethnicity and shifting your behavior as needed.

    We’re all doing the best with what we have, and compassion goes a long way.

    Real equality (and not just on paper, while minorities continue to be treated like underlings) is on the way. Let’s continue to be the change.

  • Help People

    Help People

  • I Never Knew How Strong I Was Until…

    I Never Knew How Strong I Was Until…

  • Life Is All About Balance

    Life Is All About Balance

  • Your Current Situation Is Not Your Final Destination

    Your Current Situation Is Not Your Final Destination

  • It’s Oversimplified to Say “Happiness Is a Choice”

    It’s Oversimplified to Say “Happiness Is a Choice”

  • How I Healed My FOMO and Started Saying No

    How I Healed My FOMO and Started Saying No

    “When you say ‘yes’ to others, make sure you are not saying ‘no’ to yourself.” ~Paulo Coelho

    My sister-in-law returned to Montreal after spending three months in Portugal. She told me that the biggest adjustment to being back was spending twenty minutes in the pharmacy aisle deciding which shampoo brand to get because the options were endless. She missed life in Portugal, where she only had one brand to choose from.

    Ah, the paradox of choice.

    I am a recovering indecisive person. I used to stand in line at restaurant counters, telling people to go ahead of me with their orders because I couldn’t make up my mind.

    What if I got the poached eggs on cod cakes but the French toast with apple butter was really the way to go? At least with brunch menus you can order both and split it with a friend, but it gets a little trickier when you’re talking about plans where you can’t be in two places at once, but you still try to be.

    When I was invited to four different Halloween Parties in my twenties, I attempted to go to all of them! I didn’t want to have FOMO (fear of missing out), so I spread myself thin trying to do it all by making an appearance at each party—always with one foot out the door.

    The downside to saying yes to each of my friends was that I wasn’t able to be fully present for just one person. I felt scattered and rushed to get on to the next party, and I left each of my friends feeling like they weren’t important enough to commit to.

    The other thing indecisive people like me used to say is, “I’ll try and make it.”

    Really? You’re going to try? We both know that probably means you’re a no show. Why don’t you just say yes or no? To quote Yoda from Star Wars, “Try not. Do or do not. There is no try.”

    I used to rush to say “YES!” to every offer that sounded good at the time. “Yes, I’ll be part of the book club,” “Yes, I’ll help you write that grant,” “Yes, I’ll launch a rooftop garden project,” “Yes, I’ll help you move,” “Yes, I’ll do a full day workshop for free and not get to talk about my business.”

    I said yes so many times I felt like I was spinning plates. Running around like a crazy person trying to please everyone, I wondered, “How did I get stuck with so many commitments?” (Ahem…well, Myrite, you did say yes to all those commitments).

    It was as if I didn’t know any other option but saying yes. That was until one day I met with a fellow coach to see if she was interested in co-creating a program with me. I ran the idea by her expecting her to say yes right away (as I would have!). But when we finished the meeting she said, “Do you mind if I sit with this and see if it’s a yes?”

    What? Say that again? These were new words to my ears. I had never heard of that option! I didn’t know that you could say that! It opened up worlds of possibilities.

    First of all, I respected her more for saying she’d have to think about it than if she rushed to please me with a yes. And it also taught me that I could give myself the time and space to sit with a choice to see if it was a genuine heartfelt yes or if I was saying yes out of guilt or obligation. Just so you know, saying yes out of guilt is a definite no-no.

    I also used to be so afraid of what would happen if I said no. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone, but what I realized is that when you say yes to other people at the expense of yourself, the hardest person to disappoint is really you!

    If you’re so concerned with what other people might think if you say no, then ask yourself whether you’re making other people’s needs more important than your own. Just like kids who throw a tantrum when they don’t get what they want, you can expect that when you start to bravely and gracefully stand your ground and say what you want instead of what others might expect of you, you’ll get some pushback. But that is part of living a brave life. .

    So here are some suggestions from my recovering people pleaser heart to yours, whether you’re indecisive, have FOMO, or rush to say yes.

    1. Learn how to be okay with disappointing some people.

    As Oprah so eloquently taught me, “In order to live a brave life you have to be okay with disappointing some people.”

    When you say no to someone else, you are saying yes to yourself. Instead of worrying about other people’s needs, take care of your own. As Brené Brown shares, one minute of discomfort while telling someone no is better than a few years of resentment after saying yes to something you didn’t want to do but feel obligated to.

    2. Create space before responding.

    When someone makes you an offer, before you say yes, try slowing it down. Take the time to check in with yourself and say “let me get back to you.” Or, “Sounds good! Let me sit with it and ill let you know by…” Or “Let me check my calendar/check in with my partner and get back to you.” Then make a choice: yes or no. Don’t sit in the in between or try and do both. On that note…

    3. You are not a magician.

    (Unless your name is Merlin, in which case I apologize). But if you can be in two places at once, that is a miracle. If you can be fully present in both places, that is a double rainbow miracle.

    The thing is, when you try and be in two places at once, you are setting yourself up for feeling split, torn and neither here nor there.

    Stop splitting and start choosing. Choose to be pulled by the loving choice that makes you feel like your best possible future self—the choice that makes you feel lighter, more expanded, more of the you that you want to show up as if you were living your brave life full out.

    4. Trade your “I will try” to “I will.”

    What are you really saying when you say “I’ll try?” Is it a way to get yourself off the hook, so you don’t have to be responsible for committing to anything? Trying only works when there is conviction behind it. When you mean it with commitment and effort. But when you use “I’ll try” as a scapegoat for “I wasn’t planning on showing up,” that’s when you get into trouble. You’re trying to use the easy button and replace “try” for the scarier “no.”

    So here’s my advice: Don’t say try when you really mean no. Start by practicing saying “no thank you.” And if it is a yes, then commit by saying “I will.”

    5. Realize there is no wrong choice.

    I have to keep telling myself this over and over when I’m torn between topics for which programs to launch next. Every time I am torn between choices. I am learning to just choose one. Start with that.

    Whether it’s a brunch order or Saturday night plans or a job offer. Choose one and stick to it. If you really don’t like it, you can leave, quit, or try something else, but at least start by choosing somewhere to focus your energy for now.

    Give yourself permission to choose and know that there is no wrong choice. What If whichever experience you will have is exactly the one you are meant to be having in that moment?

    Some choices will lead to positive outcomes; others will lead to more painful lessons. But not choosing will mean living in regret. Let not choosing no longer be the acceptable default choice, my dear, and see what kind of magic you create.

  • We Can’t Run from Ourselves and 6 Other Lessons from Living Abroad

    We Can’t Run from Ourselves and 6 Other Lessons from Living Abroad

    “Maybe the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything. Maybe it’s about un-becoming everything that isn’t really you… so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place.” ~Unknown

    From the outside looking in, my life was picture-perfect. I had a corporate job that paid more than just the bills, a charming little apartment in a boho neighborhood of Denver, a gorgeous SUV that took me on adventures in the mountains on the weekends, a vibrant dating life where I met some pretty amazing guys, and a group of incredible girlfriends that most people only dreamt of having.

    But deep down in my heart and soul, I knew it wasn’t right. I knew I was meant to be doing something totally different. I felt an intense calling, a longing for something unknown, and every day as it grew stronger, I became more restless. I was trying to live someone else’s ideal life, desperately hoping it would be right for me as well. It wasn’t.

    I was turning twenty-seven and knew if I didn’t make a change right then, I never would. My life would stay the same because I felt like I was getting to the point where (approaching thirty) I would want to think about settling down and starting a family.

    After months of being in denial, hoping the feeling would just go away so I could continue living my easy little life, I finally decided I wasn’t going to let fear hold me back any longer. I didn’t want to miss my calling or have regrets about any of the choices I made. My heart was telling me to go, and I knew it was taking me down the path I was destined to take—it always does.

    So, I quit my job, sold my car, donated my furniture, said my good-byes, stored a few boxes of personal items in my grandma’s basement, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney, Australia, with nothing but a backpack and a box.

    People were calling it a “quarter life crisis,” which I kind of went along with, but the truth is, I had never felt settled and always knew something big was about to happen. My plan was to stay in Australia for a couple of years (if homesickness didn’t get the best of me first), but I ended up living abroad and traveling the world for six years.

    Let me tell you, if you ever want to bring up all of your issues, spend some time living in another country or traveling through places where your language isn’t spoken. It’s so powerful, so intense, so challenging on so many levels, yet so healing all at the same time.

    I knew it was going to majorly kick my arse, but I knew for my soul’s evolution, it was something I had to do.

    During those years away, I learned more about myself than I could have ever imagined, and I would not be who I am, or where I am today, without every moment spent overseas.

    Here are the life lessons I learned from six years abroad:

    1. We can’t run from ourselves.

    The same issues we have at home, we have abroad. I honestly thought I could leave it all behind and start afresh, be whoever I wanted to be. I assumed that since I was following my heart, the restlessness would subside, my life purpose would be magically unveiled, and the freedom I finally had, which I’d craved for so long, would create instant happiness.

    Sure, I felt on top of the world for a while, but I quickly learned that we can’t expect a new adventure, a new career, or a new guy in our life to fix all of our issues and suddenly bring us happiness.

    In the most beautiful places in the world, I still felt restless. I still worried that I would never figure out what my purpose was here on earth. The deep sense of unhappiness was still inside my heart, and the loneliness was even stronger than ever (no matter how many beautiful people were in my life).

    If we aren’t happy within our own hearts—if we aren’t our own best friend, our own source of love— we aren’t going to feel happiness no matter what we bring into our life or where we are (even in an incredible city like Sydney or on safari in Kenya).

    We will always be on the go, searching, and will never feel content. We will reach for food, alcohol, or something stronger—anything to give us just a moment of peace. We must turn our focus within. Feel compassion for ourselves. Genuinely love ourselves. Your life will change in so many ways when you realize the answers that you’re seeking are always within.

    2. We have no idea how much we are capable of.

    We are capable of doing whatever we put our minds to and can achieve absolutely anything we want in our lives. One of the biggest determining factors of whether or not our dreams come true is whether we take action on them.

    Our egos are biologically programmed to keep us safe by trying to get us to play small. We all have an inner voice that tells us “there’s no way I can do that” or “I don’t deserve to have this,” so we must work to overcome those kinds of thoughts and to think a different way.

    We were made for greatness; we were made to feel joy and love. We were made to live our dreams. People tell me all the time how lucky I’ve been to live such an adventurous life. I always say it has nothing to do with luck, and everything to do with choosing to work through my fear and follow my heart.

    3. Our career does not define who we are.

    For some reason, growing up, I thought in order to be “successful” in life I had to be earning over $100k in a corporate career. I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do after college and spent my early twenties traveling, bouncing around in and out of jobs and relationships, feeling like a bit of a failure. I landed in a corporate job and spent five years trying to be a square peg in a round hole, but I didn’t know who I would be without my career.

    We spend so much time in our lives working, of course our career is a big part of who we are, but it doesn’t define who we are.

    I realized on a year-long backpacking trip that I am a soul, a spirit, a being of light. I am how I serve others, how I treat others, how I make others feel, and how I show up in my life and in the world. I am not just what I do for work. When I finally let go of the limiting belief that a career makes me who I am, the sense of freedom and relief I felt was astronomical.

    4. Loneliness can be one of our best teachers.

    When you move countries, or when you’re traveling by yourself, you’re really alone. For over two years my phone did not ring once.

    I went on a year-long backpacking trip without a phone, and when I returned to Australia, my husband and I (boyfriend at the time who I met on my travels) decided to move to his hometown where I hardly knew anyone. He already had a life established, and I was starting from scratch. He always had places to go, people to see, and something to do, and I desperately craved the same.

    However, in that loneliness I really got to know my heart. I read so many enlightening books, went through an intense period of spiritual awakening, got my Master’s degree, and really focused on becoming who I was meant to become.

    Sometimes we must lose ourselves to find ourselves, and when we hit rock bottom, that’s when we grow. We’re forced to strip away what’s no longer working for us and build from the ground up.

    Looking back, I know that time in my life was meant to be lonely. It took all the focus off other people and pushed me to turn inwards. Now I embrace loneliness and know I can always find comfort in my own heart.

    5. The Earth is designed perfectly to support us on our life journey.

    Because I was so alone for those two years, I spent a lot of time exploring and connecting with the Earth. It truly is an incredibly beautiful and magical place for us to live. There is beauty all around—just look at what a tree looks like blowing in the wind, or think about how the moon controls the tides of the ocean. It’s blissful, pure magic.

    When I’m feeling off, disconnected, or my mind is in a negative place, the first thing I do is get outside and spend time in nature. I go on a hike, I walk on the beach, or if I’m not near either of those, I sit under a tree blowing in the wind, watch the sunset, sit beneath the moon, or just get lost in the stars.

    It puts things into perspective and helps me remember I am part of something so much bigger than just my tiny little life. Our Earth is here for us, and I’ve developed a deep connection to our beautiful planet, which helps guide me through the difficult times in my life.

    6. People close to us aren’t always going to support with what we’re doing—do it anyway.

    I was fortunate that I grew up with parents who told me I could do or be anything I wanted. I truly believed that, and I think that’s a big reason why I’ve had the courage to work through my fear and live out so many of my dreams. There will always be people in our lives who don’t support what we’re doing. Whether it’s a friend, a boss, our parents, or our spouse.

    The thing is, this is not their life to live. They have their own life. I’ve had to disappoint people along the way, and I’ve even lost a few friends, which was all extremely hard for me. But at the end of the day, we only get one life, and it’s up to us to make the most of it. I knew I would never be truly happy if I made decisions based on other people’s thoughts or feelings.

    I learned the only way I’ll be happy in my life is to live out who I am, follow my heart, and embrace the beautiful, unique, challenging, scary, amazing, incredible, and awesome life I’m meant to live, regardless of what other people think.

    7. We find happiness by following our hearts.

    We are all made up of our own individual interests, gifts, desires, and talents. There’s a reason we’re not all the same, so why do we spend so much of our lives trying to be like everyone else?

    Throughout high school and college, I desperately wanted to fit in. I wanted to look like the girls in the magazines, live in a big house, and drive a fancy car. Of course, none of those things would ever keep me happy, but I had always been a people pleaser and a perfectionist, and I truly felt I should live my life according to what everyone else was doing, what the media was telling me, and what society was pushing me to do.

    We can never find true happiness if we’re living our lives trying to be someone we’re not. We find happiness by letting go of everything we think we should be, tuning out all of society’s noise, and turning our focus within. In the quiet and stillness of our own heart, that’s where our truth lies. That’s how we connect with our soul. That’s where we find who we are.

    **This post has been slightly edited for clarity.

  • Why People-Pleasers Don’t Get the Love and Respect They Desire

    Why People-Pleasers Don’t Get the Love and Respect They Desire

    “Niceness is the psychological armor of the people-pleaser.” ~Harriet B. Braiker

    I used to think that being kind, gentle, and agreeable was guaranteed to win me love and acceptance from others. I’d tiptoe around destructive people’s behaviors, no matter how uncomfortable I felt about it, believing to my core that if only I could be nice enough to them, they would one day lead a better life.

    I lived my life constantly avoiding anything that might make me look like a bad, imperfect, antagonistic, or unlikeable person. Because as every people-pleaser knows, being disliked or disapproved of feels worse than ignoring your own feelings—at least at first.

    Some people were easy to please; a kind gesture or smile was all it would take. Getting their approval so effortlessly made me happier than a kid at Disney World. But with other people, it seemed the more I tried to please them, the more likely they were to treat me like an old dish rag; and the more this happened, the less I liked myself.

    Eventually, my efforts to please others left me feeling disrespected, violated, and disconnected—from life, from other people, and from myself.

    For many years, I silently endured the ongoing, relentless invalidation of who I was based on how others treated me. When someone close to me was feeling unsatisfied, negative, or in search of someone to blame, there I was, ready to take it.

    But no matter how unhappy I was, I still wanted to make them feel better. I wanted to see them happy, even at my own expense.

    At the core of these one-sided relationships I maintained with some of the perpetually dissatisfied people in my life was an enduring belief that if only I could solve their problems and make them happy, I’d finally receive the love and acceptance I desired all my life.

    I never stopped to think, “But what about me? What will become of me if I keep trying to satisfy people with an unquenchable thirst?” I couldn’t see that no matter what I did, it would never be enough. In fact, it wasn’t about me at all. I didn’t realize that no matter how good I am at solving problems, or how perfectly I can handle things, if someone wants to find fault with me, they will.

    Instead of seeing other people’s dissatisfaction as an issue for them to resolve on their own, I internalized it and interpreted it to mean I wasn’t good enough.

    But one day, I finally started asking myself some important questions: “What will become of me and my self-worth if I keep basing it on unhappy people’s perceptions? Who will love and respect me if I’m not even taking a stand for myself?”

    My conception of who I needed to be in order to gain love and acceptance was slapping me in the face over and over again like a flat tire driving on uneven pavement. But still, I wondered why my formula wasn’t working. I truly believed that living selflessly was a surefire way to get love, appreciation, respect, and lots of hugs in return.

    It took me a while to realize that living this way was actually having the opposite effect. My constant selfless giving and kindness didn’t automatically earn me a pass on the eternal acceptance subway. It actually seemed to be an invitation for people to take advantage of my generosity, allowing them to feel less anxious about their own lives.

    I set myself up to be other people’s emotional dumpster, personal life fixer, and convenient source of blame for their misfortunes.

    What I came to learn the hard way is that pleasing others isn’t the way to win their love and respect. I finally realized that if I kept taking on other people’s anxiety as my own, they would never change. And why would they, after all? They got lots of relief from me stepping in and resolving things. But at what cost?

    All this pleasing had left me feeling inadequate and stressed out as I watched the recipients of my pleasing play out the same problems and drama, over and over again.

    Love At All Costs

    One night I had a dream that I was standing in a field with nothing but the clothes on my back. I felt weak and tired, like I needed someone to come lift me up and ask me how I was doing.

    Slowly, my family and friends started to join me in the field. But they weren’t there to rescue me; they were there to bring me their troubles.

    One by one, they started pulling me in different directions. They wanted me to solve their lives for them, even though I was alone, tired, defeated, and left with nothing.

    The dream was showing me the truth about how I was living. When my life and health started to collapse around me like a burning building, I had to take a hard look at my perspective and decisions. I started to question my beliefs about what it meant to be a truly good person, and what it took to receive the love and respect I so desired.

    That dream helped me understand that my people-pleasing behaviors weren’t getting me what I desired; they were getting me the very experiences I spent my life trying to avoid.

    Back then, it would have been easier for me to blame others for their ungratefulness and neediness; but deep down, I knew that blaming would have been another way to avoid taking a look at myself.

    I was sick of exhausting myself trying to help and change other people, only to find that it didn’t work. I knew I had to change myself and, as cheesy as it may sound, give myself the love and respect I so desired. Because the truth is, no one can give you what you should be giving yourself from within—especially not those people who need the pleasing you so easily offer.

    After much reflection, I came to see that my pleasing behaviors were a way for me to get the validation from others that I wasn’t giving myself. Of course my efforts backfired, because I alone was responsible for my happiness; other people’s happiness wasn’t my responsibility, and just because I was overly nice to someone didn’t mean they had to treat me the same way.

    I was trying to please other people so I could feel worthy of love. In reality, my kindness wasn’t coming from a place of vulnerability, honesty, or acceptance; it was rooted in anxiety and fear.

    In my attempts to make everyone else happy, I lost control of my own identity, and they lost their ability to solve their own problems. By changing myself to become who everyone wanted me to be, I made myself less desirable and implicitly invited people to take me for granted.

    Pleasing Yourself

    Do you find yourself people-pleasing and wonder how you can get the love and respect you desire? Well, the answer is pretty simple, but the actions it takes aren’t quite as simple. The first step involves changing your perceptions. Once that’s done, changing your behaviors will follow naturally. Here are some things to remember:

    1. You aren’t treating yourself with love and respect when you regularly do things for others that they’re avoiding doing for themselves.

    2. You aren’t treating yourself with love and respect when people violate your boundaries, and you don’t speak up about it.

    3. You aren’t treating yourself with love and respect when you say yes to something but really want to say no.

    4. You aren’t treating yourself with love and respect when you internalize others’ dissatisfaction and take it on as your own problem.

    5. You aren’t treating yourself with love and respect when you hurt yourself in order to make others happy.

    Over time, I came to understand that my efforts to make other people happy were like deposits made in a piggy bank with a giant hole at the bottom.

    If you’re stuck in a people-pleasing cycle, chances are you’re subconsciously attaching to people who need you to soothe their discomfort, because they can’t do it for themselves. Since they don’t know how to manage their own emotions, they’ll continue to reach out to you whenever they’re in crisis—and, on the occasions when your pleasing behaviors aren’t sufficient for them, they’ll blame you for their discomfort.

    If you want to make changes in your life, it’s time for you to see this pattern clearly and stop basing your sense of worthiness on other people’s approval of you.

    Change your perceptions, beliefs, and behaviors. Make contributions to a bank that pays interest. Receive the love and respect you so desire by celebrating your freedom from the longing to be accepted by others.

    —

    Editor’s note: Ilene has generously offered to give away two free copies of her latest book, When It’s Never About You: The People-Pleaser’s Guide to Reclaiming Your Health, Happiness and Personal Freedom. To enter to win one of two free copies, leave a comment below. You don’t have to write anything specific—”Count me in” is sufficient! You can enter until midnight PST on Sunday, November 5th.

    UPDATE: The winners for this giveaway have already been chosen. They are Emma Andmark Shishkin and Mari Toni.

  • Educate That Beautiful Mind of Yours

    Educate That Beautiful Mind of Yours

  • Feelings Are Just Visitors

    Feelings Are Just Visitors

  • Why We Need to Stop Chasing Success and Start Enjoying the Little Things in Life

    Why We Need to Stop Chasing Success and Start Enjoying the Little Things in Life

    The philosopher Alan Watts always said that life is like a song, and the sole purpose of the song is to dance.

    He said that when we listen to a song, we don’t dance with the goal of getting to the end of the music. We dance to enjoy it.

    This isn’t always how we live our lives. Instead, we rush through our moments, thinking there’s always something better, there’s always some goal we need to achieve. This is my journey through a song without the dance and the lessons I’ve learned, from Alan Watts, along the way.

    “Existence is meant to be fun. It doesn’t go anywhere; it just is.”

    I sat in my car, fixated on my hands. Hot tears welled in my eyes and slowly streamed down my cheeks. I lost focus of the very thing that held the answer to my problem.

    I remember thinking about how my nails grow on their own, how my hair grows and my heart beats, and the tears fall. All without effort or pain, these things happen. They’re effortless. Why was life so difficult?

    At twenty-two, my goal was to be successful. I wanted to be someone—to have more and be more than I thought I was. I needed to justify something to the world, but I didn’t know what I was trying to prove.

    I was a mother at eighteen years old; it was a setback but never a regret. Even so, I felt judged. At twenty-three I had my second daughter. I was a wife with two kids and a low-paying job.

    I had a loving husband and two beautiful kids, but I wasn’t happy. I wanted more. In the quest for more, I traded my time for a particular brand of success. The kind of success that you can only achieve through money and status. Something precious for something I felt would give me vindication from society.

    “The whole point of dancing is the dance.”

    When I was twenty-eight, I had done all the things society tells us to do. I went to college, I got a high-paying job, and I was climbing my way to the top. I was lucky, but it didn’t feel that way. The goal was to have everything and make it look effortless. Except it wasn’t effortless, and nothing came easy. I had missed the point; I’d played the song, but I didn’t dance.

    “You live life by analogy, a journey with a pilgrimage to get to the end success, heaven, whatever. You missed the point; you were supposed to dance.”

    I became a government contractor, far from a dream, but it brought success. Maybe you became an insurance salesman or a real estate agent. Like me, you work hard every day. You get up and go through the routine that you know will make you successful. You work harder and longer hours because you know that if you just keep working, success will come.

    Then you turn forty. You’re exhausted. Life has taken its toll, but you’ve made it. You’re successful. This existence is what you worked for; it’s everything your ego wanted, and you did it. You traded the precious moments for eighty-hour workweeks, but you did it. Now you can dance. Now life can start.

    You look around at your beautiful home and your expensive cars. There comes the point when you realize that the cars and the house don’t feel the way you imagined they would. These are symbols of your success. Your ego needed them, but your heart needed something far more valuable.

    “I must survive means you are not playing.”

    Perhaps your story isn’t like mine, and at forty you’re still working a dead-end job, working to pay the bills. Wishing you had more time with the ones you love. I know it’s not easy. To compare my story to yours would be missing the point of the message.

    The point is, no matter how far you get or how hard you work, you will always want to get to the next level. Sure, material things bring comfort, but they don’t bring happiness. You will always be where you are in your heart until you realize that life isn’t about material possessions.

    Our lives are not about things and status. Even though we’ve made ourselves miserable with wanting, we already have everything we need. Life is meant to be lived. If you can’t quit your job tomorrow, enjoy where you are. Focus on the best parts of every day. Believe that everything you do has a purpose and a place in the world.

    Happiness comes from gratitude. You’re alive, you have people to miss when you go to work, and you get to see them smile every day. We all have to do things we don’t want to do; we have to survive. When you find yourself working for things that don’t matter, like a big house or a fancy car, when you could be living, you’ve missed the point. You’re playing the song, but you’re not dancing.

    “A song isn’t just the ending. It’s not just the goal of finishing the song. The song is an experience.”

    I remember going to school at night when I could have been home with my daughters. My little girls cried at the door as I left them. I tried to reason with myself. I was doing all of this for them.

    I wanted my daughters to be proud of their mother. I was setting a good example. Their mother was going to be someone for them. As I turned my back on them, I cried too. I hated that I had to leave.

    In truth, I made a choice to leave them. Everything we do in life is a choice that we’ve made. Telling ourselves that we don’t have a choice is the biggest lie of them all.

    I made excuses and created a hero version of myself that was doing it all for my family. My daughters didn’t need status. I needed that. All they needed was me. Some days the tears were flowing so much I couldn’t drive, so I sat in my car and I fixated on my hands. I wondered why my nails had it so easy.

    I was so close to understanding that growth is all we have to do. There’s no effort in growing or dying. These things are inevitable. We make it difficult because we choose to.

    My hair grew, and my heart beat without effort or understanding. These seemingly simple things understood a lot more about life than I did as a whole person.

    All I had to do was be, exist, experience, love, and have gratitude, but I didn’t. My struggle went on for years. It was far from the picturesque life I was trying to achieve. I chose to do it anyway.

    “Try to sleep, and you can’t sleep. You’ve got to let go. If you don’t, you’ll constantly try and keep yourself wound up.”

    I think about my struggle for success, working during the day and going to school at night. Missing my husband and my kids, I thought someday this would all get easier. When I think back on that time in my life, I never wish I had worked harder.

    I wish I had more memories with my family.

    Now I have everything I wanted back then, but it doesn’t feel like you’d think it would feel. What was I expecting? I didn’t feel any different than I always felt, except that I had a corner office, a fancier house, and nicer clothes.

    An ideally located office—this is what it all came down to in the end? It’s very anticlimactic when the new car smell wears off, and all you have is a large payment and more hours at work.

    We all think that when we’re at the top, everything should be amazing, but it’s not. Your children have grown older, and you don’t remember the little things.

    “…tomorrow and plans for tomorrow can have no significance at all unless you are in full contact with the reality of the present, since it is in the present and only in the present that you live.”

    You feel cheated of your time, cheated by time. Now you have to make up for it. You have to live, make the most of what you have left. So you set another goal.

    This time you’ll build memories and see places and do things you never got the chance to do. The list grows, and you wonder how you’ll get it all done and still make your large mortgage payment. You work more hours so you can do all this stuff “someday.” You’ve overwhelmed yourself again.

    You’re missing the point.

    Stop wanting more; be grateful for today. Live in the moment. Cherish your life and the time you have in this world. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, then it wasn’t meant to; let it go.

    “We think if we don’t interfere, it won’t happen.”

    There’s always an expectation, always something that has to get done. You pushed aside living so that you could live up to an expectation that doesn’t exist to anyone but you. The expectation is always there because you gave it power. To live, you’ve got to let it go.

    You save all your money so that you can retire. You live to retire. Then you get old, and you’re too tired to live up to the expectation you had of retirement; you never realize your dreams.

    At forty you felt cheated; at eighty you are cheated. You cheated yourself the whole way through to the end.

    “Your purpose was to dance until the end, but you were so focused on the end that you forgot to dance.”

    I quit my job at forty, I worked too much, and I never got the chance to live. I don’t have a powerful position. I have a job with less stress. I’m not holding the weight of the company on my shoulders. I also make a lot less money.

    I can work fewer hours and live with less stuff, but I’ll never get back what I’ve lost. Money, fancy cars, and a big house will never give back my time. The moments, the little things, live in the past; they’re gone.

    “Life should be easy and fun, effortless, but we rarely let it be what it is.”

    We’re always striving for more, never satisfied with where we are. More is always better. Happiness and fulfillment are always just out of reach. When we’re growing up, we strive to finish song school. Then the goal is college, then grad school. We have a family, and we live through the challenges of life, but we never stop to realize the grace in each moment. We never dance.

    Gratitude for life itself is still ahead of me. The song is still playing, and it’s never too late to live in the present and enjoy the dance.

  • Fill Your Life with Experiences, Not Things

    Fill Your Life with Experiences, Not Things

  • Never Judge Someone as If You Know Their Entire Story

    Never Judge Someone as If You Know Their Entire Story

  • Facing the Fear of Change: Big Risks Can Bring Big Rewards

    Facing the Fear of Change: Big Risks Can Bring Big Rewards

    “Change will not come if we wait for some other person, or if we wait for some other time. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.” ~Barack Obama

    If someone said to you, “Hey, you know how you are feeling the need for change and you’re not sure what to do? Well, I can’t tell you what to do, but I can guarantee that if you follow where your heart leads you, you’ll create the possibility of more joy than you’ve ever felt before. All you have to do is walk through the doors that will keep opening up for you and trust, completely, that you are on the right track. You may question it at times, but keep going. You’ll be fine no matter what.”

    What would you do? Would you follow the guarantee or would you keep doing what you’re doing?

    What if the caveat was added, “Oh, you should probably know that if you do this, you run the risk of losing much of what you’ve known and who you think you are now will look completely different the next time you look in the mirror.”

    Ummmm… hold up. Let me think about that.

    That’s basically what happens when you know it’s time to change up your life and you’re innately scared to do so.

    So, what do you do?

    I spend a lot of time in deep reflection and introspection. And it’s not because I want to; it’s because I am constantly trying to understand myself, to figure out where I’m headed and what’s potentially holding me back from getting there.

    Most of the time, I feel completely in the dark. And while my grandmother always told me that there is nothing in the dark that can hurt you, I’m human; I question this theory. And yet I continue to trust that she’s right. She lived over eighty years and was the most inspirational woman I’ve known; she must’ve learned something pretty valuable to be expressing these bold opinions.

    So I had the nudge to change myself and I went with it. No, that’s not accurate—I had the internal and external shove and I went for it.

    In the matter of a few short years, I got divorced, bought a house, lived alone with my kids, completely supported myself financially and then left my job, started a business, and changed the majority of my friends. I chose to start completely over in many ways.

    On paper, I looked a bit off balanced.

    Yet, I felt in my heart, in my soul, that I was supposed to make these changes. They were leading me somewhere I knew deep down I wanted to be.

    During that time of immense change, I took some huge hits. I lost my marriage, most of my friends, my sense of belonging, my financial stability, an understanding of who I thought I was, any semblance of security, consistent support from loved ones, and a ton of sleep.

    That was never part of my plan. I didn’t expect to lose so much, but it happened. I had to learn how to let go, regroup, and re-evaluate what I was doing. I had to learn to trust my decisions and that the discomfort was temporary and going to be worth its price.

    It was challenging. No, it was painful. And scary. And dark. Very, very dark.

    These changes, that proposed I’d grow into a better version of myself, came with a hidden tax. In order to get to where I was headed, I would need to dig deep and re-discover my strength, my passion, and my drive to keep moving forward no matter what.

    I would have to look at my fears dead on and question their weight. I would have to re-assess my standards and feel the guilt of changing not just for myself, but also for my kids.

    I questioned myself over and over again, interrogating my need to keep going—why I couldn’t quit. And what would I do if I just gave up? I had to evaluate my worth and see if I really had what it took to be this person, whoever she was.

    I met an amazing friend who seemed to be on the same path as me. She vocalized the same fears, as well as the same need to hope. We spent the first year of our leap of faith supporting each other through the ups and downs. She was my sense of relief. And then, with no warning, she died in her sleep. What I relied on was gone. My questioning began all over again.

    I cried often. I regularly found myself in the fetal position protecting myself from letting anyone in. More times than not, I felt completely alone.

    And yet, with every dark day came one full of light. Every tear I shed was followed up by a laugh with a new friend. Every moment of doubt was rewarded with some notion of peace and promise that the pain would dissipate and the joy would return.

    And it did. For every three friends lost, I found one that reminded me I was cherished, trusted, and not alone. For every time I questioned if I did right by my children, they showered me with love and gratitude to remind me that I was exactly what they needed. For the financial security I lost, came the abundant flow that surpassed what I had previously known, doing exactly what I loved.

    With the guilt came the opportunity to forgive myself. With the fear came the opportunity to trust myself. With the self-deprecation came the opportunity to love myself.

    This person I was becoming—who I am—was far braver than I ever knew. The fears continued to flood me, but I didn’t let them change my course. The more I let myself be vulnerable, the more I was able to see the next steps. I also saw myself in a light I had never seen—radiant, confident, full of flaws, but the kind I could work with.

    I was no longer a good mom; I was a great mom. I was no longer poor; I was rich with experience. As I let my heart open, I experienced more moments awe and gratitude than I had ever before in my life.

    I still cried a lot when I was alone. I prayed often and looked for signs of hope every single day. I still do. I will never stop. I need them.

    But this promise of change to be in a place my heart has longed for, where I am comfortable in my own skin—I have arrived.

    The fear doesn’t just go away. It asks to be seen and acknowledged. Yet the more I’ve learned to work with it, the less it has worked against me.

    I ask it questions. I examine the root of its discomfort. I look for alternatives to the boundaries it won’t budge on. I compromise decisions and reframe all the answers it gives me back. I hear the negatives and I search for the positives. I find the hope and spoon feed it to the fears who just want reassurance.

    My fears and I, we talk a lot. Like a child who just wants to feel safe, I speak to them in a way that doesn’t diminish their value, but reminds them they are not always right.

    Would I have taken this road if I knew what to expect? I don’t honestly know. But I do know I have no regrets, and this person I am, I like her. And I’m happy to have her as a friend. She inspires me.

    Maybe that’s what the change was all about.

    Truly living and growing requires risk. And not all risks pan out the way we hope or imagine. Sometimes those risks temporarily take us to places that are darker than the life we were living before. They may even require us to let go of what we think we need or what once brought us joy in order for us to grow.

    Yet with each risk comes the opportunity to discover something about ourselves—a hidden talent, a new passion, personal insight, or simply deep courage and internal strength that’s been waiting to be felt so we know it exists.

    There may not be a guarantee that we will experience more joy than before, but the only way to discover what’s possible is to take a chance, make a change, and find out.

  • No One Has the Right to Judge You

    No One Has the Right to Judge You

  • Failure Is Part of Creating a Great Life

    Failure Is Part of Creating a Great Life

  • How I Turned Fear and Anxiety into Joy and Fulfillment

    How I Turned Fear and Anxiety into Joy and Fulfillment

    “The largest part of what we call ‘personality’ is determined by how we’ve opted to defend ourselves against anxiety and sadness.” ~Alain de Botton

    I know fear and anxiety. We’re old friends. When I was fifteen, and school was over, I’d have to force one foot in front of the other. It was time to go home. I always kept going, and with every step I’d psych myself up.

    You see, once I’d gotten home, fixed my dinner, and finished my homework, my mother would come home. It was then that we would begin the nightly ritual of me talking her out of killing herself. I succeeded, but every day was a struggle.

    As I got older I became terrified of leaving my room and fixated on studying so I could go to college and leave her dramatic mood swings behind.

    I did get out. I went on to study at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, a highly ranked school, studied abroad in England, and even went on to get a Masters Degree in International Studies from the University of Sydney in Australia. I worked hard and climbed in my career as a humanitarian worker.

    But the problem was that the fear and anxiety followed me. The chaotic energy of my childhood was still in every cell of my body. And as a result, I attracted people very similar to my mother and I was attracted to dangerous situations, such as visiting former war zones for work.

    After seventeen years of carrying this weight around, I buckled. My work suffered and I fell apart emotionally. I felt like a pilot trying to land an out of control jumbo jet with both engines on fire.

    I just couldn’t carry the weight anymore, so I began to unload toxic relationships left and right—quite to the shock and dismay of my family and friends.

    As I felt better and cracks of clarity began to seep through, the people around me pushed back. That’s when I made probably the biggest most dramatic decision I’ve ever made.

    I sold my house in Washington, DC, worked out a part-time telecommuting position with my boss, and moved to Asheville, North Carolina. I knew that I needed space to figure out who I was and to spend some quality time dealing with my past.

    Four and a half years later, I feel like a completely different person. I believe in myself, like really believe in myself. I meditate. I have clear boundaries that I stick to, and at a cellular level, I feel at peace.

    Now, I still have work to do, but I don’t dread it. Instead, I look forward to my continued work and getting to the next level of fulfillment, and I see life as full possibilities and joy.

    During this journey people have continually asked me how I did it. They’re amazed that every time they see me, I somehow have jumped to a more fulfilled level. Well, let me tell you.

    1. I made personal development my number one priority.

    Every time I made a leap, my relationship with myself improved, my relationships with others improved, new opportunities appeared in my life, and my business became less stressful, more streamlined, and more purposeful.

    2. I embraced my emotions.

    It was messy at first. I’m not going to lie. I cried every day for two years and I still cry fairly often, but it’s over quickly and I feel much better afterward. I understand now that I had to grieve for the childhood that I never had.

    The two tools that kept me sane and helped me push through were a) a regimented and strenuous workout routine that allowed me to get my anger out in a physical way and b) Iyanla Vanzant’s online Forgiveness Workshop, which guided me through why I was angry, allowed me to get to the heart of my anger (and more importantly, my hurt), and allowed me to let go.

    3. I stopped identifying myself as a victim.

    I’ll be honest, this one still comes up for me in surprising ways. I realized that I had been taking pride in being a victim. It had become part of my identity, and it was holding me back from believing in myself.

    4. I embraced that it’s how I feel that is the most important thing in my life, not the amount of money in my bank account, the status of the people around me, or the car that I drive.

    Danielle LaPorte’s book The Desire Map was instrumental in this mind shift. After reading it, I finally understood that when I coveted material things or relationships, I wasn’t coveting them; I was coveting how I thought they would make me feel. My whole life changed when I realized that I could have positive feelings now without these things.

    I began to incorporate experiencing belonging, feeling loved, and feeling safe into my morning meditation.

    There was a lot of reaching at the beginning. These weren’t emotions that I had ever experienced in a holistic and healthy way. But I kept meditating on them, and slowly, things, programs, podcasts, and people showed up in my life that showed me what those healthy emotions did feel like. And my meditations on them became more and more real. And now I know with certainty that my life will be filled with belonging, love, and feelings of being safe for the rest of my life.

    5. I embraced affirmations and mantras.

    I began to write down affirmations and post them throughout my house. When things were at their worst, I printed out on a piece of paper in huge font the words “I love you” and taped it to my bathroom mirror.

    I still cry thinking about how lonely and unloved I felt when I looked at that piece of paper every morning. But I kept it up there and I even started to say “I love you” to myself in the mirror.

    At first I could barely look myself in the eye, but after over five years, I look myself clearly in the eye and smile every time I say it, because I mean it.

    I also started to identify how I wanted to feel so I could create mantras. I still do this. At the moment I’ve borrowed one of Gabrielle Bernstein’s favorites and adapted it. Every time I am at rest I repeat to myself “I am supported in my life and business” and everyday I feel more supported.

    6. I got a dog.

    It may sound simple to some, but getting a dog has been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. The obvious perks are the unconditional love, the constant shoulder to cry on, and someone who is always ecstatic to play with me.

    But the actual reason goes much deeper. Dogs’ behavior reflects the energy we put off into the world, so they’re like an instant karma meter. If we’re feeling chaotic and unsure of ourselves, they might protect us by attacking other dogs or misbehave.

    People always assume it’s the dog’s fault if he misbehaves, but the fault is almost always the human’s energy. Once I figured this out, I felt an even greater responsibility for the energy that I was putting out in the world. I now had to be calm, direct, and assertive so that my dog could have a happy life. During this process, he has helped me identify countless things to clear.

    7. I set firm boundaries.

    This one was and still is paramount to my happiness. I grew up in a family with essentially no boundaries. My parents would tell me about their love lives, their problems, and didn’t really allow me to have any material possessions that really felt like mine.

    So as an adult I had very poor boundaries. I’d let people take advantage of me and then get mad behind their backs. I’d ask inappropriate questions. The list goes on and on.

    One day my therapist mentioned boundaries in passing, so I looked on Amazon and found another life changing book, Where you End and I Begin by Anne Katherine. It rocked my world.

    I honestly had never even realized that I was allowed to set boundaries. I started setting them right away and my whole world started to shift.

    I now tell people when I don’t want to talk about a subject. I leave a party if I no longer want to be there and I only do things I want to do. As a result I am so much happier and grounded, and more importantly, I am now free to explore what it is that I really want.

    8. I understand that what people say often reflects what they think about themselves.

    This was a hard one. I grew up thinking that everyone’s emotional state and actions were my fault.

    As a result, I had a chronic need to please—and if I didn’t, I felt horribly guilty about it afterward. As I worked through my own emotional chaos, I began to understand how the energy that I brought to a situation could completely shift its outcome.

    I realized that I was creating a revolving mirror of chaos by projecting my own insecurities onto other people’s words and actions. Once I had reined in my inner chaos and could see the world with some clarity, I realized that most people do the same thing I was doing.

    In some cases I realized it didn’t even matter if I was in the room; their insecurities were the only thing that mattered in their world. Whatever I had to say wasn’t going to change anything.

    This realization was downright magical. I finally felt free. I look back and realize that so many situations that had made me feel bad had absolutely nothing to do with me. This has not only allowed me to forgive more people, but it has allowed me to more easily spot secure people who genuinely listen and gravitate toward them.

    9. I expelled negative messages from my life.

    I realized that the television shows I watched, the music that I listened to, and the furniture and objects I put in my house all impacted my subconscious.

    As a result, I stopped watching television where the main character was on the verge of dying or the world was going to end in every episode. This doesn’t mean I switched to shows with unicorns and bunnies. I’m an intelligent person who likes complex plots. But what I did was make sure that the shows I watched reflected how I wanted to feel.

    I started curating my music more carefully. If I loved the beat, but the song had negative messages about women, it got tossed. If the lyrics were about self-sabotage or unhealthy self-doubt, it got tossed. Or if I just didn’t like the beat, it also got tossed.

    What is now left is positive, affirming music that actually feels like me. I’ve even had people comment that the music I listen to feels like my artwork.

    I gave away or threw out all furniture or objects that I didn’t like or that reminded me of someone that I didn’t like. If an object made me feel guilty, it got tossed. If something was broken, it got tossed.

    I even threw away my dining room table! Every time I would drive to the Restore or Goodwill with a full car I was filled with guilt, but then when I drove away empty-handed I always felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

    I realized that I was so busy cluttering my house up with obligations and broken things that I wasn’t showcasing the things I loved and that brought me joy.

    10. I believe in myself.

    When I was trying to study abroad in England and get my Masters in Australia, I felt so sure of the outcome—in my mind there was no other outcome—and I felt so focused and purposeful. I realized this year that I had lost that drive.

    Going through my past in painstaking detail in order to heal had really taken its toll. In some ways it had dragged me into a holding pattern and I couldn’t see a life beyond it.

    Then I started to listen to the Tim Ferriss’ podcast. It’s a complex show hosted by a complex man, so you could take away any number of things. What I’ve taken away lately is that I need to start asking myself more absurd questions.

    Essentially I need to start thinking bigger. So when Tim mentioned an old 1959 book called The Magic of Thinking Big by David Schwartz, I devoured it. It is lifting me up in ways that I never expected (and making me chuckle at its totally 1950s take on life).

    As a result of this book, I finally understand what Tony Robbins has been banging on about—successful people and businesses are successful because they truly believe they will be successful, and they’re willing to do any amount of personal growth work to get to their goal.

    They are so sure of the outcome that nothing, not even their most horrifying ghost will stop them. They’re not going to push against the ghost, they’re going to embrace the ghost, feel its pain, and move through it.

    I believe that I can. And I believe that you can too.

  • Before You Speak, THINK

    Before You Speak, THINK

  • Learn to Let It Go

    Learn to Let It Go