Tag: wisdom
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Are You Really Listening? 4 Ways to Understand and Connect with People
“The most basic of all human needs is the need to understand and be understood. The best way to understand people is to listen to them.” ~Ralph G. Nichols
My partner and I were in our first few months of a long-distance relationship. This was a new stage for us and it meant altering our communication practices. Instead of sharing meals and museum exhibits, we had weekly emails and Skype chats.
Every week, I would pour my heart into long, detailed emails to him. I would describe everything that I had done and thought over the past few days.
On Skype I would do the same. Excited to tell him about my life, I would recount all of my recent experiences.
On one such Skype call, my partner paused the conversation with a long and frustrated silence.
“What?” I asked.
He said, “You just told me all about you, but you didn’t respond to anything I said.”
His reaction surprised me. Weren’t we taking turns talking about our lives? Wasn’t that how a long-distance call was supposed to go?
Around the same time, I received a letter from a friend who lived across the country. We had been writing to each other for several years. I had recently sent her a letter telling her about my new job and my vacation plans.
She wrote back in exasperation, “You didn’t respond to anything I said in my last letter.”
Now I was shocked and a bit panicked. My first instinct was to be defensive. Didn’t my partner and my friend want to know about my life? Didn’t they care about me?
A troubling realization soon set in. If two different people were upset with me for the same reason, there was a good chance that I was the source of the problem and that I would have to take ownership of it.
I had always thought that conversations between people in any relationship meant taking turns talking about yourself. I believed that was how you found out information about each other’s lives. Wasn’t knowing about each other the framework of a relationship?
After thinking for a while, I realized that this approach had never been very successful for me. I had always struggled with feeling disconnected in my relationships. My bonds with others felt flimsy, as if they could crumble at any moment.
Despite being surrounded by people I called friends, I felt chronically detached and lonely. I often wondered, were relationships this shallow for everyone? Was I doing something wrong that kept me from tapping into true connection?
The moment that I realized my partner and my friend had both given me the same feedback—that I was not responding to anything they said—set me on the path to answering these questions. No, relationships did not have to be shallow. Yes, I was doing something wrong.
I was being a poor listener. My lack of listening skills was holding me back from truly connecting with the people I cared about most. I did not know how to listen receptively and responsively in conversation.
This realization was both terrifying and freeing.
Conversation is the workspace to create, build, and expand connection. Listening is the glue that fuses that connection. If we take turns talking without truly listening, the connection is brittle.
Fortunately, excellent listening can be learned. With dedication, I was able to dramatically improve my listening skills. As a result, I have built deeply fulfilling relationships that nourish my heart and soul.
Here are four power moves that I use to increase the quality of my listening and build stronger bonds with the people I care about.
1. I bring mindful attention to asking, “How are you?”
The way in which we choose to ask “How are you?” has the power to set a tone of either detachment or connection for the rest of a conversation.
I used to treat “How are you?” as if it were interchangeable with “Hello,” flattening it into a greeting instead of a question. I expected a perfunctory response and so that was what I received in return. This approach to “How are you?” communicated that I was more eager to talk about myself than to listen to the other person and thus set the stage for disconnection.
Now I treat “How are you?” as an invitation to connect by saying the words slowly, breathing into the phrase, and maintaining physical stillness. I transition my full presence to listening and bring the precious gift of my attention to the conversation. Attentiveness shows that I care and I want to learn more about that person.
2. I communicate interest by asking follow-up questions.
When I ask “How are you?” I may get the response “Good, I just got back from work.”
In the past, I would have responded “Great!” and moved on. Now I know that this common exchange is an important opportunity to ask follow-up questions.
Follow-up questions are linked to the speaker’s previous statement so they demonstrate the listener’s level of interest and attention. My favorite follow-up questions are open-ended and begin with “what” or “how” because they create the most space for the other person to expand their thinking.
Some examples that would apply to the situation above include “What are you currently working on?”, “How do you like your colleagues?”, and “What do you enjoy most about your work?”
Asking follow-up questions shows that I value my conversation partner’s ideas and experience. Communicating that someone’s words are valuable increases their self-worth. When I foster a relationship with someone that mutually feeds our senses of self-worth, we both find ourselves wanting to spend more time together.
3. I deepen the conversation with “Tell me more,” and “What do you mean by that?”
When we talk, we learn more about ourselves. We can explore our desires, motivations, and fears. When we support others to talk more about themselves, we help them uncover useful information about who they are.
By telling my friend, sister, or partner to “tell me more,” or by asking, “What do you mean by that?” I’m inviting them to learn more about themselves. I’m opening space for them to expand their thinking and thereby take up more space in our relationship and the world.
Invitations to take up more space are among the greatest gifts we can give in relationships.
4. I share the conversation space with “What do you think?”
Asking, “What do you think?” is my favorite technique to manage myself during conversations in which I am sharing opinions, theories, and ideas.
I am a passionate person and when I am inspired, I have a lot to say! However, unless I am giving a speech, I have a responsibility to my listener to maintain a shared speaking space and I honor this by ending my opinions with “What do you think?”
There is a distribution of power inherent in any exchange involving speaking and listening. If one person chronically dominates the speaking space without the other’s consent, there exists a violation of boundaries. Asking, “What do you think?” helps to maintain equality and respect in conversations and, consequently, in relationships.
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These days, I employ these listening power moves regularly and continue to reap the rewards. I recently used them in a conversation with a former colleague. When she reached out to me via text message to ask a simple question, I took it as an opportunity to deepen our friendship.
She texted, “Have you renewed your professional license?”
My younger self might have responded with “yes” or “no” and left it at that, resulting in a shallow interaction. Because I wanted a richer relationship with this person, I used the listening power moves to connect with her. I brought my mindful attention to the interaction and responded with an open-ended follow-up question.
“No,” I texted back, “I have other career ideas right now. What is your thinking about your career?”
We switched to email and she shared her latest career goals with me. I responded to her ideas and then she asked me about my career goals. Over the course of our emails, we expressed and explored our thinking about who we were professionally and personally, made plans to spend time together, and ended up going on a road trip.
Feeling connected means feeling seen, heard, and valued for who we are. Our choices around how we speak and listen have the power to generate connectedness. When we bring a mindful presence and generous spirit to our listening, we open the doors to rich and fulfilling relationships.
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The Miscarriage: Why My Heart Feels Full In Spite of My Loss
“Suddenly you’re ripped into being alive. And life is pain, and life is suffering, and life is horror, but my god you’re alive and it’s spectacular.” ~Joseph Campbell
They say all feelings have a beginning, a middle, and an end.
The truth is that I’m still in the middle part, but I felt like it was time to share this story with you—not just for me, but for all women who have faced this and for all women who have made a plan and then surrendered as the plan changed.
Two months ago, I had a miscarriage.
The pregnancy was a little bit of a surprise. We’d been talking about it, but weren’t “trying.” (Sidenote: I got off birth control pills years ago when I quit drinking alcohol—best decision of my life, but that’s a different story.)
Over the years, I really learned my body and I’d been able to sync up with my cycle, except for this one time a few months ago when I miscounted the days. Whoops.
I took a pregnancy test. Two lines. I took three more pregnancies tests. All four said the same thing: two lines = pregnant.
Were we excited? Were we scared? Do we celebrate? Did we just mess up our entire lives? Do we move? Do I cancel my work trips in the fall? All the plans. All the feelings. All at once. But the excitement was incredible—we made a baby!
I started telling the women closest to me.
My husband started calling and checking in more than normal.
We were preparing in our own way.
I was early. Only eight weeks.
And I was eager to tell my family in person because I just so happened to have a trip already planned to see them.
But before boarding the plane a few weeks ago, I could sense something was going on. I called a close friend and told her that I was starting to feel attached to the little creation growing inside of me and that I was scared I would lose it. Part of me already knew, even though I wouldn’t find out for another week.
My wise friend said something I’ll never forget. She said,
“Julie, no matter what happens, you’ll be okay.”
She was right. She’s always right.
A week later, when I started spotting, I was in my mother’s bathroom in Louisiana. I had told her the news the night before. I immediately called that same friend, then my husband, then the doctor. Tears and more tears. I knew what was happening.
Emergency ultrasound.
My sister (my closest friend and a nurse) moved into action, told me what to do, and pulled all the strings for my appointment.
My mother sat on the couch with me, held my hands, cradled my face, and prayed with me.
My father rushed to my side with fierce strength and held back his tears with loving tenderness.
My husband, thousands of miles away, held strong—mentally and emotionally—and kept telling me that everything would be okay. One step at a time. Always, grounding and anchoring me.
They were all strong for me, which allowed me to be soft.
The ultrasound showed no heartbeat and a tiny little thing measuring only six weeks. It wasn’t time.
I walked out of the doctor’s office and paused at the door before meeting my parents on the other side. I cried and held my womb and cried some more.
I cried for the loss of the plans we’d made.
I cried for the loss of what could have been our baby.
I cried for myself, for my husband, for our family, and for all the women who have been initiated into this phase of life.
My parents rose to their feet the moment they saw me. We stepped into the hallway so I could tell them the news without disturbing the pregnant women waiting for their appointments.
I told them what I saw and what I knew. I cried and they cried. My mom cried for her baby and her baby’s baby. My dad cried for his little girl. My sister called fourteen times waiting for the news. My husband remained peaceful, hopeful, and calm on the other end of the phone.
They were steady in the midst of my storm.
My body released everything naturally. It was intense and beautiful. My hormones started to regulate. My heart is starting to heal.I say this again and again in the work I do, but I believe it to be truer now more than ever….
In order to be fully alive, we must feel it all.
My heart was torn open into a hundred piece two months ago, but not just because I was sad. It was torn open as I learned to feel even more.
My heart held grief and love in a way that I never knew could co-exist. To witness the miracle of my body, the beauty of being a woman, and the strength and resilience of my spirit blew me away.
I am different.
Clear. Focused. Fierce. Tender.
I am more me than I’ve ever been.
A new rite of passage. A new opportunity to deepen within myself.
In many ways this little spirit baby birthed me. I am no longer the same.
Life isn’t meant to be easy, or perfect, or happy all the time. Life is meant to confront us. It will get in our face and push our boundaries and stretch our limits.
Life doesn’t do this to be cruel. It does this to remind us of our strength and bring us closer to our spirit.
In the midst of grieving in a way I’ve never done before, I feel stronger than I ever have before. It’s such a weird paradox.
That’s the beauty of life.
With every twist and tug and pull, with every heartache and break, life is making us all. Making and molding and polishing our soul so that we may one day shine even brighter.
This is life.
I continue to welcome all of life—the heartbreak and hope, the pain and the joy, the smiles and the tears. There is room for it all.
Above all things, I trust more than ever before that life is completely and utterly holding me. I don’t have to do a thing. Life has got me and if it’s not this, it will be something else because that’s the way life works.
I feel a deep sense of peace and openness as I finish this note to you.
My heart feels full. Full from love. Full from pain. Full from life. And that is a beautiful gift.
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Overcoming Envy: How to Stop Feeling Inferior and Insecure
“Comparison is the thief of joy.” ~Theodore Roosevelt
If you are suffering from the painful sting of envy, know that you are not alone. I was there too, for a very long time. Envy can be a crippling emotion. For me it has been connected to my depression, anxiety, and obsessive-compulsive disorder.
It has been a very painful twenty years since my attachment to envy began, involving comparison, competition, judgment, harsh criticism of myself and others, in a never-ending, futile attempt to soothe my wounded ego.
I was constantly, obsessively, relentlessly afraid of being inadequate and inferior—to a classmate, to a boyfriend’s ex, to a fellow singer. “She’s prettier, happier, more successful, she’s married, she’s a mother…”
As we come to learn, the comparison game never ends. Sometimes you might win, sometimes you will lose, but ultimately it is always self-destructive.
My mind would constantly compare myself to other women, and whether I fell short or came out on top, it hurt. I was deeply insecure. I hated myself. At my lowest points I was suicidal, drowning in feelings of worthlessness and shame.
With some soul searching, I discovered exactly how this envy-obsession originated: It began with deep-rooted fears of inadequacy and of being abandoned and replaced, stemming from my parents’ separation when I was three years old, and then from my father’s starting a new family when I was twelve.
Even though I knew I wasn’t at fault for the breakdown of my family, I subconsciously believed that it meant I somehow wasn’t good enough. I was innately unworthy.
These fears morphed into deep recurring depressions, intense anxiety and panic, insomnia, and the obsessive thought patterns of envy and competition.
The mental grooves I had been digging for twenty years were very deep. They were painful, draining, and exhausting.
There were days I was afraid I would never have peace, that I would always be suffering from the mental torture of OCD. Deep down I was terrified of being abandoned and unloved. My fears manifested as an obsession with my perceived inadequacy and inferiority to other women.
It has taken a lot of hard work to undo the damage these thought addictions have done to my soul and psyche.
Our subconscious mind, which normally works to help keep us safe by alerting us to threats, has a way of becoming twisted after trauma. Instead of being my own best friend, I was my harshest critic, always convincing myself that I wasn’t good enough, and that someone else was better.
Attempting to run away from my emotional turmoil created this monster of a neurosis. It was a self-harming coping mechanism to distract myself from my deep inner pain. It had become easier to obsess about whether or not someone else was “better than me” than to do the hard work of finding my own self-worth and unconditional self-love.
Envy (and the comparison and competition that went along with it) was my obsession, and social media stalking was my compulsion. If only I had spent as much time songwriting as I spent on Facebook!
The suggestions I make for releasing yourself from envy are all things I personally do consistently. I now have a newfound freedom and confidence, in myself, in my place in this world, and in my connections to others.
Now that I’ve done this very important inner work, nothing would make me happier than to help others spare themselves some of the self-induced misery I subjected myself to for so long. Here are a few of the things that have helped me immeasurably.
1. Stop comparing and competing.
We know how harmful it is to compare and compete, we know we shouldn’t do it, but for those of us who have been engaging in this destructive habit for years, how do we actually stop? It comes down to changing the inner narrative—how we speak to and about ourselves and others.
I began to tell myself, “I am different, unique, and special, not better or worse.” We are all on completely different paths, with unique journeys, qualities, experiences, perspectives. Logically you can’t possibly compare one person to another, but we know fear doesn’t always operate logically, so we have to retrain our minds. “I love myself. I am beautiful. She is beautiful. I am blessed. She is blessed.”
Over time I stopped wanting to judge. I stopped wanting to compare and compete. I stopped bashing other women, in what had been my attempt to make myself feel better by putting them down. It didn’t feel good that I had been so negative, mean-spirited, and critical. It hurt that my fear had morphed into hate. I was embarrassed and ashamed that I had blatantly become a mean girl.
It felt so much better to appreciate people’s positive qualities, to see their light and focus on that light.
I started saying simply “she is beautiful” about everyone I saw, whether outside on the street, or online on social media. It wasn’t long before it felt true, because it is true! Everyone is beautiful—uniquely, beautifully special in his or her own way.
I stopped critiquing people’s physical characteristics, their lives, their success, their happiness. I stopped trying to measure them against me, and vice versa.
I began seeing us all as beings of light, beloved children of the Universe, with unique, incredible gifts and talents to share with the world.
I saw other women as potential friends and allies instead of threats. I no longer feared people; instead, I welcomed them and saw us all as extensions of one another—human beings doing their best at this thing we call life, all of us divinely connected, all of us struggling with very similar, common, messy challenges.
2. Embrace sharing and learning.
Instead of trying to one-up the next person, let’s change how we view one another. How can we learn from, and be a resource for, one another? How can we offer help, guidance, and support? Instead of being in competition with one another, we could be a network of people eager to celebrate each other, share in each other’s successes, and help each other heal and grow.
I began to ask myself new questions about the people in my extended network, and the new people I met:
What can I learn from them, from their journeys, from their successes and mistakes? What can I teach them? How can I be inspired by them rather than feel threatened? How can I better be of service to others? How can I give of myself? How can I support and be supported? How can we share our strengths and build each other up?
Where once I saw division and competition, I started to see our commonalities: We had similar fears, goals, and life experiences. I realized we all have so much to give one another. I started to appreciate people more and to see all the beautiful things they were offering the world. I began to see our healing journeys as linked. I felt layers of fear begin to fall away.
3. Focus on healing.
I got down to business and worked on my overall mental, emotional, and spiritual health; my self-love, self-focus, and self-esteem. I began daily meditation and gratitude practices. I tackle the OCD with EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique, also known as tapping), self-hypnosis, and ERP (Exposure and Response Prevention) Therapy.
I listen to meditation music designed to help balance the chakras. I repeat affirmations such as “I am at peace within myself,” as well as ancient mantras. Two of my favorites include Sa Ta Na Ma—helpful for breaking negative thought patterns and healing the mind’s chemical imbalances that lead to depression—and Om Namah Shivayah, which helps access your truest, highest self and guides your divine transformation.
I use writing, especially songwriting, to explore and to dig deep. I journal, and then I journal some more! I make lists: lists of the things I love about myself, lists of the factors contributing to my depressions, lists of ongoing challenges I’m working on. I routinely go on social media detoxes. I practice celibacy.
All of these things help me to turn the focus inward, when for years I had defaulted to focusing on other people, namely with this inadequacy complex, but also with dating and unhealthy relationships.
The more I focused on myself and my happiness, the easier it became. I rediscovered Aisling in the simplicity of comfort and candlelight, in the wind in the trees, in cooking, in music. It was liberating to love myself in a real way, and to finally feel worthy.
We live in a culture that normalizes and encourages competition. We tear each other down, we judge, we are downright mean. We allow our traumas, wounds, and fears, not to mention our cultural conditioning, to make us hate ourselves, thereby hating others.
With time and concerted effort, though, I do believe we can heal our spiritual afflictions, even the very persistent, very destructive penchant for envy, self-deprecation, and sabotage.
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How to Make Progress On the Goals You’re Tempted to Give Up On
“To create more positive results in your life, replace ‘if only’ with ‘next time’.” ~Celestine Chua
Most of us start each year with good intentions. We have a list of things we’re going to start or stop doing. The year feels fresh, and it’s time to be the person that we’ve always wanted to be.
At some point in the year the shine wears off and we start to go back to old patterns and behaviors. Some of us even write off the entire year if we’ve failed at our new years resolutions by the time we hit February, and decide to try again next year. Holding on to the idea that a new year somehow magically makes it possible for us to do better, we postpone change to a later date.
This is a little trick we play on ourselves; it’s a way to opt out of truly engaging in our lives. We’re effectively cheating ourselves and switching off because it’s too hard to keep showing up.
I used to do this every year. I’d set myself impossible goals in January and then as soon as I fell off the wagon, it would be game over.
I’d commit to having no chocolate ever again and then not only eat one but the entire box. I then decided I’d “broken the seal and might as well carry on eating,” I then declared that resolution out of date and postponed it to the following year.
I’d commit to going to the gym three times per week when I know in my heart that I am not a gym person, and then spend the first six weeks of the year finding reasons and ways to talk myself out of it.
I’d obsess about maintaining daily writing streaks because I knew I felt better when I journaled every day, but as soon as I missed a day I’d give up and not touch it until I bought yet another brand new journal to write in for the next year.
My intentions would often fall outside of my circle of influence—for example, deciding that I was going to improve my relationship with my sister by myself, without even talking to her about it so that the onus was on me. Of course, as soon as we had an argument I’d give up because it was “too hard.”
I was always so hard on myself, expecting that somehow I’d magically become this healthy eating, exercise obsessed, creative and brilliant being just by deciding to do so on the first day of the year.
Worse still, I wouldn’t acknowledge that I was probably already a creative and brilliant being, who just needed to unlock these qualities from within herself, because I was too busy scolding myself for not maintaining a streak or meeting impossible goals.
Sound familiar? How do we break this cycle?
1. Set kinder, more manageable intentions.
I’ve found that if I want to be healthier, I need to choose a small goal that’s aligned with that rather than something so big it feels too hard to do. So my intention this month, for example, is to do three minutes of meditation every day, or as many days as I can manage.
The length of time is small so it feels achievable. More importantly, it’s not about having a streak, but about showing up as many days as I can, even if I miss a day or two here or there.
2. Review regularly and gently.
I then check in every week and reflect on how it’s going with my intentions. I’ll celebrate the three or four times I managed to actually commit to them, and gently look at how I might be able to increase that number. What’s getting in the way of me meditating seven days a week? Am I rushing too much in the morning? How could I improve that situation? Or do I feel comfortable with the amount I’m doing and can I celebrate that it’s working?
3. Find a cheer squad.
I’ve noticed if I’ve told somebody else that I’m going to do something there’s a little more gentle pressure to actually do it. It’s not that the other person would be judgmental if I didn’t, but that I’ve verbalized and created this intention outside of myself—and I know that there’s a cheer squad or cheerleader waiting to tell me what a great job I did.
4. Become a cheerleader.
By the same token, supporting other people with their intentions and goals has brought me more focus on my own. Every time members of my online community check in with me to tell me about how they are doing with their intentions so I can cheer them on, it’s a gentle and kind reminder that I also have my own to progress and share with them.
5. Have a plan for when things go wrong.
One of the main reasons we give up on things is that we don’t have a plan for when things go wrong. If I come home late because of a hard day and I haven’t already planned a healthy meal that’s easy to make (or already prepared), then it’s almost a guarantee that I won’t have the energy to think about it and will order a pizza. If I haven’t planned for the possibility of this sort of thing happening, I’m not even equipped to deal with it.
The beauty of this is you learn as you go along. Sometimes things happen that you’re not prepared for and you act out of alignment with your intentions, but then you can look at why it happened (review regularly and gently) and try to put a plan in place for next time.
There will always be some scenarios you haven’t considered, but the pool will get smaller and you’ll be more prepared to stay true to yourself through adversity or temptation when you have plans in place.
I now have emergency meals in my freezer for when I get home and feel too tired to think about what to eat. Obviously, if I really want a pizza, I still order one, but it’s this intentionality of making the choice and being prepared that allows me to feel good about that decision.
6. Remember why you are doing this.
If it starts to get stressful, then you’re making it too hard. Sometimes I get stressed about not having had time to fit in my meditation practice (mostly because I’ve made the mistake of leaving it until later in the day rather than doing it first thing). Getting stressed about something that is meant to make you less stressed doesn’t make any sense.
If your goal is to be less stressed and you don’t have time to do the twenty-minute meditation you planned, why not breathe long and deep for one minute or thirty seconds? That counts. If your goal was to go to the gym and workout for an hour but the day got away from you, why not do five minutes of jumping jacks and running on the spot? That counts.
If you remember your why, you’ll find a workaround that motivates and keeps you going.
One way you can do this is to ask yourself the question: What would this look like if it was easy?
Give yourself permission to break this annual cycle. Be gentler with yourself and just show up and do your best. Surround yourself with people who will cheerlead, and commit to learning every time things don’t go to plan. It’s not about whether this is your year. It’s about the fact that this is your life. Go get it with kindness in your heart.
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When Too Much Stuff Gets in the Way of All the Good Stuff
“The secret of happiness, you see, is not found in seeking more, but in developing the capacity to enjoy less.” ~Socrates
When Hans and I relocated from Chicago to Ann Arbor, we wanted to live in a house with a big yard so we could plant flowers and get a dog.
There were two backstories feeding these wants. I grew up on a farm and we always had a dog or two. And having lived in Chicago three-flats for a decade, I was ready for some green grass.
There were other things on our wish list, including enough space (to live in and for our stuff) and a garage (for the car and more stuff). And I think granite countertops might have been mentioned.
After looking at a dozen houses, we found our home. By today’s standards, it was actually on the small side at 1,400 square feet (compared to the average size home of 2,500 square feet).
There was a living room, family room, dining room, and kitchen. There were four bedrooms and two and a half baths. We don’t have kids, so that’s two bedrooms and a bathroom each—with half a bath left over!
We earmarked a room for my home office, a workout room for the elliptical, a room at the far end of the house for Hans to loudly watch hockey…
It seemed there was a separate room designated for every possible activity. And with so many rooms to choose from, it’s a wonder we ever ended up in the same room at the same time.
Filling the Space
Conventional wisdom says when you have space, you fill it up. And we did.
We brought furniture from Chicago and we bought furniture in Ann Arbor. We went to home stores and container stores and hardware stores. We acquired things to fill the space.
Whether we needed all that stuff wasn’t really discussed. We had the space and it needed to be filled (or so I thought back then).
But a funny thing happened as we settled into our new home after years of apartment dwelling. We realized a couple things that would have been nice to have figured out beforehand.
First, we hated yard work. Mowing the lawn felt like a huge waste of a weekend afternoon. My would-be green thumb forgot how much I dislike getting sweaty and dirty and toiling in the soil.
And the dog? Yes, we really wanted a dog to love and pet and love some more. It would’ve been easy to just focus on the wonderfulness of having a chocolate lab…
But as we started to notice the disconnect between the dream of a big yard and the reality, we realized the doggie dream was much the same.
What Freedom Feels Like
We started to embrace this about ourselves: The less commitment and obligation in our lives, the freer—and better—we feel.
Initially, this was really uncomfortable for me to admit. I worried not wanting responsibility and obligations made me less of an adult.
But as soon as I have that thought, the record skips and I say WHHHAAAT?!
Because I’ve realized being a mature adult is knowing who you are, what makes you comfortable in your own skin and at peace in your own mind—and then designing your life around what’s true for you.
In our more-is-better consumer culture, it’s easy to buy into all the messages about what we’re supposed to want and supposed to have. But what if you get those things and … meh … they just don’t resonate. Then what?
Because that’s what happened to Hans and me.
Everything looked great from the outside, but just didn’t feel quite right. It took us awhile to figure out the disconnect between what we thought we wanted and what we really wanted.
So, after the first year in our home, no flowers were planted. We paid someone to take care of the lawn. And I made sure to pet other people’s dogs whenever I got the chance.
But… we couldn’t unknow what we now knew: We’re not house people. Or the landscaping-on-the-weekends type. And while we’re totally dog people, we’re dog lovers—not dog owners.
So Now What?
Hans and I started to have the conversation:
- If we’re not house people, who are we?
- If we’re starting to have a different relationship to space and stuff, what does that mean?
- If we quiet the voices about how we’re supposed to live and what we’re supposed to want, what do we hear that’s really true for us?
We began to realize we wanted less. Less space and less stuff. Less housework and less upkeep. Less overhead and less oversight.
If you’re on your own, making a life-altering change can be a solo decision. But when you’re partnered up, it would be a tough compromise if one of you wants the McMansion and the other wants to go live in a Tiny House.
Luckily, Hans and I were on the same page: We had a short list of new wants.
We wanted to downsize.
For us, this meant we wanted to significantly reduce our square footage. We made a conscious choice to define “enough” for ourselves.
We rejected “more is better” as a default and really thought about how much space we need to be comfortable and how many rooms we want to clean.
All in all, we went from a house of 1,400 square feet to a hotel room of 300 (for six months while our apartment was under construction) to our current abode of 733 square feet. We have a kitchen, living room, bedroom, and bathroom.
And I can honestly say we’ve never been happier or felt closer. In fact, Hans and I joke that we could easily go lower, perhaps to 500 square feet. But, for now, our 733 square feet is home sweet home.
We wanted to rent, not own.
Home ownership has historically been something you’re supposed to want, save, and strive for. For me, renting an apartment equals freedom. Freedom from maintenance, but also the freedom to decide next month I want to move to Denver or Sweden.
Home ownership, on the other hand, feels locked in, less fluid.
I’m frequently asked: Don’t you feel like you’re just wasting money renting? Don’t you think you’ll regret not building up equity?
My answer: No and no. We’re paying rent to buy a lifestyle that works for us. And while we’re not building up equity, day-to-day peace of mind is priceless.
Of course, I’m not advocating apartment renting over home ownership for everyone. I’m only speaking to what I’ve come to realize is true for me—even as it goes against the societal norm.
We wanted less stuff.
When you halve your square footage it follows you’ll need to do the same with your belongings. In our case, we also gave up a garage (aka: three walls lined with large blue storage bins), which meant dramatically reducing our possessions.
In a smaller living space, every possession needs to earn its keep. Less square footage necessarily raises the bar for what comes into your home.
I found these questions useful for deciding what to keep versus what to get rid of:
- Do I love it? Is it beautiful? Does it enhance my well-being?
- Is it functional? Do I use it?
- Does it reflect who I am today and where I’m headed—rather than keep me rooted in the past?
- Do I only have this out of guilt or obligation?
- Am I okay with the price I pay for owning it—the overhead to maintain, the time to clean, the cost to insure, etc.?
I also noticed this about downsizing: Stuff is not just stuff.
We have all kinds of complicated relationships with the things we own. In fact, at times it can feel like our stuff owns us rather than the other way around.
When we decided to downsize, I realized I had to stop coping with life’s boo-boos, disappointments, and frustrations by acquiring more stuff. It’s easy to stuff feelings with stuff. They don’t call it “retail therapy” for nothing.
I also had to untangle my relationship to my belongings. For instance, if I get rid of something my grandmother gave me, does that mean I didn’t love her? Of course not, but it can be challenging to look at items objectively and separate the person from the thing.
We wanted to live in a walkable downtown.
When we decided to downsize we were lucky to already be living in a city with great walkability. In fact, Ann Arbor is often rated as one of the most walkable communities in the country.
We wanted to be able to stroll to a nearby restaurant for dinner on Friday night and walk to the farmer’s market on Saturday morning. We wanted to be able to walk to the post office, library, cafes, and movie theaters.
We all value different things, so walkability won’t be at the top of everyone’s list.
The key is taking time to really consider what’s most important and be intentional about the kind of life you create around that.
We wanted to be car-free.
In some ways living without a car has been even more interesting than downsizing. I’ve had a driver’s license and a car since I was sixteen years old. While Hans lived for a time in New York and L.A. without a car, he’d become accustomed to the convenience of 24/7 access to his own set of wheels.
So why did we want to be car free? We could just have easily changed our living situation and kept our car.
It was simply the answer to this question “How much overhead do we want to support?” Because even when you own your car (as we did), there’s the ongoing overhead of gas, insurance, registration, maintenance, repairs, parking, etc.
It comes back to knowing ourselves and embracing who we really are. I’ll say it again: Hans and I are not big on too much responsibility and obligation. Owning a car feels like both.
If public transportation or walking are not options, we get a Zip car for an hour or two or book a rental car for longer weekend trips.
We make living without a car an adventure rather than a sacrifice. There’s something fun about figuring out how to get from Point A to Point B when you can’t just step outside and hop in your car.
And I never say, We don’t have a car—as if it’s about scarcity. I always say, We are car-free to emphasize it’s a choice, an intentional act.
The capacity to enjoy less
Our journey of downsizing and living with less stuff has been one of redefining “enough.” Of figuring out the disconnect between what we thought we wanted and what we really wanted.
We have far fewer possessions and so much more time and freedom. With less square footage, we have less housework, less upkeep—and less stress.
Can you say less really is more?
Here are ten journaling prompts to help you explore your relationship to your stuff and your space.
1. What do you believe about how much living space you need? Where do those beliefs come from? Have they changed over the years?
2. Look around your home. Is everything useful or beautiful?
3. What truth about yourself are you on the verge of embracing? What will be different or possible when you embace this truth?
4. Do you think we live in a more-is-better consumer culture? How does this play out—or not—in your life? In what ways is less more?
5. Is there anything about your life that looks great on the outside, but doesn’t feel so great on the inside? What can you do to close this gap?
6. What is your definition of “enough”?
7. “Stuff is not just stuff. In fact, at times it can feel like our stuff owns us rather than the other way around.” Agree or disagree? Be specific by stating why.
8. Have you ever tried to shop away boredom, worry, or pain? What’s your experience with “retail therapy”?
9. What five factors are most important when it comes to your lifestyle wish list?
10. We don’t have a car versus We are car-free. How can you use this type of distinction in your own life to emphasize choice and intention?
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Simple Steps to Live a More Authentic (and More Fulfilling) Life
“When one realizes one is asleep, at that moment one is already half-awake.” ~P.D. Ouspensky
Growing up, the only truth I believed existed was that of the religion in which I was raised. The truth? The world was ending soon. I left it all behind in my mid-teens.
Little did I know it would take me another twenty-odd years to figure out my own truth and worse, that knowing this truth would initially leave me feeling disappointed.
Once I became a mum, that’s all I was—mum.
The concept of knowing my own truth didn’t even enter my mind. I had never asked myself all the questions that force you to dig deeper: Who am I? What’s important to me? What do I really want?
As far as I was concerned, I had to just get on with it, so the years consisted of a bit of everything. I went from feeling like I was the luckiest person alive for having two gorgeous children, to wishing someone would come along and take over, to feeling like a complete failure, to feeling proud of myself for coping so well.
In other words, I did life—a mum’s life. Sometimes really well, other times, not so well, but the fact is, I did it. The only problem is, I still had no idea about my truth let alone the fact that I could have one.
After many more years, a friend lent me a book, The Magic of Thinking Big. That one book opened my mind to a whole new way of thinking. It helped me realize that I didn’t have to live in hope that my life might change someday. It showed me that I could take charge and steer my life in any direction I chose.
I read about believing in myself, dropping excuses that hold me back, and how I am what I think I am.
All of the information was new to me, yet it made so much sense. I was overjoyed to have been introduced to these concepts that I believed were guaranteed to change my life.
So it’s a shame the excitement I felt and the possibilities I saw in my mind for a happy, fulfilled life were fleeting. I returned the book to its owner and within days, the old adage “out of sight, out of mind” came into play.
I may have read the book twice, but it made no difference. The humdrum reality of my life took over and consumed my mind. I went back to being mum and justified my life with the very excuses I had been excited about dropping. I had forgotten that they were the reason nothing changed.
The good thing is, once my mind had been opened, it didn’t quite go back to its same level of thinking. Even though I hadn’t changed any habits, I still knew deep down that life could be very different for me and my kids. And then one day, it hit me.
I realized the world hadn’t ended and I was still very much alive, so I still had a chance to make things happen.
One day during a personal development course, I experienced an awkward moment that woke me up to what I had been unaware of all those years. During an exercise, I had to answer the question “Who are you?”
Silence.
I was so stuck on the question that not even the word “mum” flowed from my lips. On the seconds went as I struggled to come up with something—anything, but imagine someone asking you to say ‘‘my name is…” in a language you don’t know. I had no idea what to say.
To say I felt embarrassed would be an understatement. I had no sense of my own identity or awareness of the things that matter to me.
Thankfully, after a few more years of attending personal development related workshops and seminars, taking courses, reading books, and watching videos, I finally figured out my all important truth.
The truth is that I’m a bubbly, curious, deep, playful introvert, who currently values freedom, fun, health, creativity, family, and honesty—amongst many other things—and wants to make a difference in people’s lives.
But there’s also an ebb and flow to that truth. Sometimes I’m not bubbly and don’t even want to be. Sometimes, I don’t feel like being playful and would rather show my serious side whether it’s a necessity or not. These are traits that I embody often but not twenty-four hours per day. And over time, my truth may very well change.
You could argue that I’m so much more than mere labels, which brings to mind the following quote by French Philosopher, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin:
“We are not human beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a human experience.”
But in my human experience, right now, this is what I know to be true. Still, just identifying my truth didn’t change anything. I wasn’t feeling any happier, or more empowered. I was feeling quite the opposite: frustrated, confusied, and stagnant. Then one day, I had an insight.
I knew my truth but I wasn’t owning it. I would think about who I was and everything that’s important to me, but my habits stayed the same. Knowing I would only accumulate a ton of regret, I decided to start doing more of the things that mattered to me and being more “me” in my everyday life.
I enrolled in dance classes—something I’d wanted to do for a long time. I then took steps to clean up my diet, which resulted in cutting out refined sugar. I even found myself enrolled in a drama course.
That’s when things started to shift within me. I felt as though I was finally moving in the right direction. And it’s only going to get better from here, with a few challenges thrown in for good measure, no doubt.
So that, to me, is the missing key:
Know what’s important to you now.
This is where we can ask questions such as: What are my values in different areas of my life right now (for example, family, work/career, health, friendships)? What makes me feel alive? What am I doing when it feels like time goes too quickly?
Thinking about our current regrets may also give us a clue about what matters to us. The point being, without this knowledge, we can’t understand ourselves properly.
Own it.
Then, it’s time to celebrate our newfound knowledge and own it. Once at the forefront of our minds, we can start to look closely at our life and how our choices may or may not align with what we value and who want to be.
Do something about it.
Nothing will be different if you don’t make changes. It may feel scary, but which is more freeing: keeping a part of ourselves locked away or figuring out how to adopt a “this is my truth” approach to life?
Whether we make small or big changes doesn’t matter so much, just as long as we actually take action instead of getting stuck in wishful thinking; and we check in with ourselves from time to time as we grow, change, and adopt new values. We may need courage at times, but the payoff will be worth it.
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Addicted to Helping: Why We Need to Stop Trying to Fix People
“Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It’s a relationship between equals.” ~Pema Chodron
After college, I was hustling hard to get a work visa so that I could stay in the US.
But then my mom got caught up in a political scandal, and without much reflection on how much this would alter my life’s plans, I dropped my dream of staying in America, drove 1,000 miles, and flew another 500 to be by her side.
Would she have crumbled without me there? My mama is a tough chick, so I highly doubt it.
But at the time, I (subconsciously) believed that when the ones we love are hurting, their pain trumps everything. Their pain gets top priority, and whatever goals and dreams we’ve been working toward now pale in comparison.
At the time, I thought that love meant tending to the other person’s needs first, always.
And this form of self-sacrifice came naturally to me (I’d behaved this way even as a young child), so I was lucky, right? Having inherent caregiver qualities is a beautiful gift, right?
Yes. And maybe not.
Are You a Natural Caregiver?
You’ll know if you have this trait too, because people will often tell you their secrets mere minutes after meeting you.
When someone has just been in a car accident or broken up with their boyfriend, you wrap your arms around them and for the first time that day, their body fully relaxes.
People tell you they feel at home in your presence. Safe. Heard. Cared for.
There’s so much beauty in having a trait like this. Without much effort, you nurture and care for those around you. It is a gift you give us all.
But there’s another side to the caregiver coin.
Helping other people can become addictive. It can begin to feel like the only way to show your love is to prostrate yourself at the needs of others.
Oh, you’re hurting? Lemme swoop in and save the day.
Oh, you’re broke? Lemme dump my savings into your bank account and all will be well.
Oh, you’re single again? Lemme set you up with my neighbor’s son.
Whatever your ailment, I’ve got a fix for you!
And the gratitude from the people we’re supposedly ‘fixing’ tends to flow so steadily that we become convinced of the healthiness of our stance.
We’re confident that healing every sore spot we see is not only natural and enjoyable, but it’s the main reason we were put on this planet.
When you carry the Nurturer Gene, fixing other people can easily become a destructive self-identity.
You will martyr yourself over and over again in order to meet the invisible quota of Lives Helped that floats above your head.
You will obsessively analyze how every choice you make might impact those around you.
You will assess every meal, every dollar spent, every vacation taken (or not taken) based on how it will impact the people you feel a responsibility to care for.
Because, in this unhealthy version of caregiving, our understanding of love has become warped. Love now looks like a relentless string of sacrifice.
Your thoughts might go something like this:
If I don’t love her with my constant presence, she will feel sad and lonely.
If I don’t love him with my attentive eye observing everything, he’ll get sick again, or maybe even die.
If I don’t love them with my efficiencies managing everything, someone will get hurt. Things will go very wrong if I’m not here to take care of them all.
Sometimes, love calls on us to invest our energy and time in tending to someone else’s pain.
But not 100% of the time. And not with the nurturing going down a one-way street, pouring out of the same person, over and over again.
If you see this pattern in any of your relationships, consider what it would take to expand your definition of what it means to nurture, to love, to care for.
A healthy caregiver not only nourishes the needs of others, but also nourishes her own.
Holistic nourishment. Nourishment of the whole of us, for all of us—which includes you.
Self-nourishment might look like hiring a babysitter so you can have a romantic getaway with your hubby.
Self-care might mean taking the job on the other side of the country, even though it means you’ll only see your parents twice a year.
Self-love might be quietly soaking in a bubble bath instead of probing everyone for a detailed account of their day.
You are not responsible for the world’s pain.
Share your talents and resources. Generously give your time and attention. But you cannot pour a magical tonic on the wounds of every person walking the planet. It’s not your job. And if it were, it’d be a sucky job because you’d fail at it every single day.
Especially when we identify as being “spiritual,” we can lift up words like “compassion,” “generosity,” and “kindness” to such a degree that we forget that even “compassion” sometimes must say no.
Even “generosity” has to allocate some of her resources for herself.
And even “kindness” must muster the nerve to walk away sometimes.
If you are the person in your relationship or family or company that defaults to caregiver and wound-tender, give thanks for the ease with which you dish out your love.
But be careful about inhaling that caregiver role to such a degree that your identity becomes dependent on having someone nearby to nurture.
Give your love. Freely and deeply.
And trust that even if you’re not there to ‘fix’ them, everyone will be just fine.
Photo by Valerie Everett
