Tiny Buddha

Tag: wisdom

  • 11 Life-Changing Lessons I Learned from My Mother After She Died

    11 Life-Changing Lessons I Learned from My Mother After She Died

    “Those we love never truly leave us… There are things that death cannot touch.” ~J.K. Rowling

    Growing up, I was glued to my mother’s hip, ready to follow her wherever the world took us.

    I used to sleep at her feet on the floor of her law school lecture halls while hundreds of students poured over scores of legal terms and historical court cases.

    When I was six, we packed our bags to jet off on her semester abroad in Paris, and at fourteen, I stood beside her as she battled stage III breast cancer.

    After my stepfather passed away, I became her main source of emotional support during sleepless nights of grief, and helped her raise my twelve-year-old brother.

    When the periods of illness and trauma subsided, I supported her decision to buy a flat in Paris, despite many family friends misunderstanding her creativity and her courageous leaps of (sometimes irresponsible) faith.

    We journeyed to the heights of Machu Picchu, through the narrow alleys of Fez, Morocco, and camped in the jungles of the Amazon.

    If she wanted to explore a foreign destination, I was her wing woman.

    If I was overwhelmed by the insecurities of young adulthood, she served as my rock and confidence.

    My mother and I were interwoven, two threads running through the same stitch, navigating tragedies of life together. When she died this year, I felt betrayed, but began to search for meaning.

    While there are moments when I feel stranded and abandoned, terrified of the unknown future, I am beginning to uncover lessons that she left behind. This is what I’ve learned from my mother and through her death thus far.

    1. Don’t be afraid to make a fool of yourself. Reach out to strangers.

    When my mother and I would travel to different countries together, she always conversed with strangers. She would tell our life story and I was often embarrassed. I figured that people thought she shared too much and was inappropriate.

    I now recognize the importance of the connections my mother made. After she died, I received hundreds of messages, emails, and phone calls from people all over the world. They called to offer their condolences, but mainly to share how much my mother had meant to them. Whether she offered legal advice or simply shared a story, they gushed to me about how she had changed their lives.

    When she first decided to buy an apartment in Paris after she went into remission for cancer, she contacted the writers of her favorite blogs and instantly began to form a French community. They spent hours eating carefully selected cheeses and sipping rosé while discussing favorite Parisian restaurants. These are the people I now call my French aunts and uncles.

    What I judged as my mom making a fool of herself was her way of sharing her strength and charm. This taught me to step forward into fear and to not let self-criticism govern anything I do. Now, I speak up. I talk to strangers. I extend myself and because of it, I receive.

    2. If you don’t like something, own it.

    When we let go of shame and our fear of judgment, we free ourselves to do what we want.

    After my mom finished her last round of chemo, she made a vow to stop worrying as much about what others thought. From there on out, she did what she wanted.

    Life is too short to do things for approval or to avoid conflict. If you don’t like where you are, get up and leave. If you don’t like what the waiter brought you, order something else. If you aren’t happy with what someone says, respectfully let them know. You must be your own advocate.

    The more honest I am, the more I love. I have a difficult time being honest when I feel negative and vulnerable. Since my mother’s death, I practice expressing myself even if another’s response isn’t what I imagine. If it goes well, I only feel closer to the person I am honest with. If we don’t see eye-to-eye, then I feel closer and stronger within myself.

    3. Be willing to spend money on experiences.

    My mother and her family grew up extremely poor. They immigrated to Los Angeles from Taiwan and lived in my grandfather’s assigned student housing at UCLA, squeezing five people into a tiny apartment for two.

    Despite her childhood poverty, instead of gripping onto money earned, she believed in spending to create incredible experiences. She always paid for friends to join us for family events and dinners, in order to include all who were important to me.

    Dining out at different restaurants was one of her greatest pleasures, and she told each guest to order whatever they wanted. She believed that good quality food meant good quality life. She planned wild trips abroad and made sure to include strange excursions so that the memories would live with us.

    Don’t worry about saving every penny. I believe that if you have the means to let go, then let go. There’s nothing like sharing laughter with a friend over a good meal, or the adventure of taking a last minute road trip to a nearby state. If you have the money and you can afford to relax with it, spend it. Spend it, because you can’t take it with you to the grave.

    4. Don’t make impulsive decisions when you are feeling extremely emotional.

    Grief leaves me exhausted on most days. One minute I’m grounded, feeling confident in my ability to move forward slowly, and the next I am completely doubled over with fear and pessimism, a blubbering mess of tears. Combine this with the pressure of Estate legal dramas and you have a cocktail for extremely reactive impulses.

    These feelings have taught me a lot about the wisdom in pausing. Even if someone wants an immediate response from you, it’s your job to make sure that you take care of yourself first.

    If a situation doesn’t feel right, pause. If you aren’t sure, pause and consult multiple people. No matter what anyone instructs or insists, you have a right to tend to your mental sanity and clarity first. Whether this takes a couple of hours, days or weeks, is entirely up to you.

    Wait for feelings and situations to settle, for time to pass, and for more answers to reveal themselves to you. You don’t have to do anything right away. Your job is to take care of yourself and more will unfold on its own.

    5. Don’t overthink or rationalize your way out of everything.

    Even though it’s always okay to take time and ride emotions out, you may never be entirely comfortable enough to make the “right” or “perfect” decision.

    There is something to be said about risk and trust in one’s intuition. This will lead you into some incredible experiences that might not happen with rational thought.

    If I always waited to feel safe then I wouldn’t have spent four nights in Prague where I exchanged life stories at a bar with a French man, received advice from a writer for Vice magazine, and connected with a girl from the Netherlands who gave me Art Nouveau history lessons during our sightseeing ventures.

    My rule of thumb is this:

    If there’s high long-term risk involved, such as decisions on investments or legal issues, or if it can strongly impact other people’s lives, then let yourself breathe, think, and consult someone else before coming to any conclusion.

    If there isn’t much long-term risk involved but you are scared because you don’t know the logistics of everything, you can’t tell the future, and you want everything to be in your control, then take a leap of faith. You can always change your mind.

    I spent the past four years afraid to change my mind, afraid to disappoint others, and afraid of ridicule. I am now learning to empower myself, by allowing room for change and the freedom to decide differently.

    I may have said no to something yesterday that now feels like a good idea, and that’s okay. You are allowed to alter the path.

    Many of my mother’s closest friends told her they didn’t think it was a financially sound or responsible decision to buy an apartment in Paris. She did it anyway and because of this, I was able to witness some of the happiest moments of her life, in her fifties, in the apartment of her dreams, in the last few years before she died.

    6. Your story and talents are needed.

    My mother’s friends call me to confess how amazed they were by her willingness to help.

    “No matter what, I could always count on your mom. She would be in a hospital bed looking into legal matters in regards to my divorce, just to give me advice.”

    “Two weeks before your mother died, she was researching how I could deal with my US Green card from Croatia. She always wanted to help.”

    Even if you think your experience isn’t valuable, it is. My mother never felt like she knew or accomplished enough, but she used all of her life experience and knowledge to help others.

    You never know when what you give will be returned. Because of all of the support my mom gave, I have an international community of people who want to support me.

    There is always a friend or acquaintance who can benefit from your support, or someone who wants to know that another person has gotten through what they’re going through now. Don’t dim your light. Don’t remain silent. Share yourself and recognize the value in your individuality.

    7. Find a little thing to be grateful for in each moment.

    After my mom died, many of my illusions and fantasies were shattered. I realized how disconnected from reality I could be, absorbed in my world of false fear and anxieties.

    This single moment is all there is to live. Longing for the future or the past is indulging a mental fantasy.

    Find a “best thing” in each moment even if it’s small. Recognize at least one thing that you are grateful for in order to practice bringing yourself back to where you are. This will help you to feel the joy in the mundane and the preciousness in the practicalities of life.

    8. Do not take every piece of advice everyone gives you.

    Try not to let the common sense or “better sense” of others confuse your own intuition. Gather opinions if you are uncertain about a decision, but return back to your own internal guidance system. Allow others’ advice to help strengthen your intuition by tossing out what doesn’t resonate and hold onto what does. This will help you get clear about what is really true for you.

    9. “Stuff” doesn’t matter; connection does.

    My mother worked hard and rewarded herself through shopping. I’d frequently come home to new gadgets. About a week after she died, a jellyfish tank was delivered to our house. Now I have a jellyfish tank with no jellyfish, and no clue what to do with it.

    Since going through many of my mom’s personal items, I’ve recognized how insignificant material things are. She liked to buy interesting things, but mainly so that they could be shared. She sent spices and food ingredients to people in other states because she wanted them to try a new recipe that she discovered.

    On the Paris Home Hunters International episode that we starred in, she said to her friends in LA, “I’m also buying this property so you guys can now have a place to enjoy in Paris too”.

    The point of life is to share it. It’s not the objects that are valuable; it’s connection. Having a room full of things cannot make up for a lack of love or community. Spend money to enhance everyone’s experience and if you can’t do that, focus on the qualities to give that actually matter, like love, presence in conversation, communication, and your time.

    10. You’re never too old to do something new and completely different.

    My mom constantly wanted to know, learn, and be more. For her, getting a PhD in molecular biology and being an accomplished lawyer wasn’t enough. She also wanted to be a dancer, and fulfilled this by dancing three to four times a week at her favorite ballet studio for thirty-seven years. Then, at the age of fifty, she decided that she wanted to share her life story with the world and in order to do so, she had to complete a master’s degree in Creative Writing.

    Many people thought my mom was irrational and wanted to do too much for her own good, but she marched forward and kept achieving.

    I believe that it’s best to narrow down what is most important to you to accomplish. Some of us have a list of things we want to master, but it’s best to begin with one goal and to give that goal your consistent attention.

    There is something admirable about committing and seeing something to the end. Try not to give up halfway if it gets tough. Like my mother, push on until you get that degree, but don’t ever tell yourself it’s too late to step into the dream.

    11. Life isn’t about fixing yourself; it’s about letting yourself love and be loved.

    I spent many years trying to figure out how I could “heal” from emotional trauma only to realize that there will be no final “fixed” product of me. I am constantly evolving, and what I believe has changed me for the better is that I’ve learned to wait and to fully feel my emotions through.

    If I want to react out of anger, if I want to respond quickly to someone’s text or opinions, I don’t. Instead, I pause, I express what’s coming up for me either out loud to myself, or to my mentor, and I give it a day before proceeding.

    Sometimes I scream in my car, bawl my eyes out while clutching my dog, or I curse my life circumstances. Will I ever stop having these reactions or emotions? No, and at one point I thought that “healed” meant exactly that. I thought being healed meant finally being rid of these impulses or consuming moments, but I now know that isn’t true.

    It’s my ability to fully embrace and ride them out, to hold myself and say “yes” to those painful moments that makes me “healed.” I choose myself in my entirety now, with all of my pain, reactions, desires, and emotions.

    Life is about putting yourself out there. How much can you continue to risk battle after battle? This is what is beautiful. It is the resilience of growth and continuing on.

    Even after all of the grief I’ve endured, I always try to open my heart after it closes in fear. I can confidently say that I am proud of my willingness to show up time and time again, even in often messy and uncertain ways.

    It is my way of showing the world that I am here to receive the fortune, the ease, and the joy to come because I am willing to endure the difficult.

  • Happiness Is Celebrating Your Life for Everything It Is

    Happiness Is Celebrating Your Life for Everything It Is

  • It’s the Simple Moments That Make for a Beautiful Day

    It’s the Simple Moments That Make for a Beautiful Day

  • Overcoming Self-Sabotage: How to Stop Attracting Pain

    Overcoming Self-Sabotage: How to Stop Attracting Pain

    “Life will bring you pain all by itself. Your responsibility is to create joy.” ~Milton Erickson

    Sometimes, there comes a point in our lives when we need to let go of something painful, whether its guilt or a toxic relationship, but it’s equally difficult to let go and hard to live without. So we get uncomfortably stuck in the middle of two realities: where we are and where we want to be.

    But do we really want to let go of the pain? Or is letting go so scary and unfamiliar that we’d rather hold onto it?

    I’ve always been inclined to obsess about things, fixating on what I couldn’t have, even though this has hurt me, and I’ve also put myself in many self-destructive situations. For a long time, letting go of bad things that happened and toxic relationships was difficult for me, for a few reasons:

    1. I had allowed myself to become used to pain, after dealing with my fair share of hurtful situations, and I was scared of change.

    2. People with a similar proclivity for darkness appealed to me because I connected with them. And although our connection felt like I was filling a huge void in the beginning, the same thing that connected us ultimately drove us part. Unfortunately, because I wasn’t practicing self-compassion at the time, my compassion for others going through darkness was also limited.

    3. Because of my comfort with pain, I considered crumbs of happiness to be “enough.” I was intimidated by people who asked for “more” in their lives.

    As an adult, I take full responsibility over my choices, but I know a lot of these things go back to my childhood. Although my parents did their best, they often shamed, invalidated, and criticized me whenever I experienced negative emotions.

    This isn’t entirely uncommon, as many parents unintentionally repeat the same hurtful behavior their parents inflicted onto them.

    Over time, like many others in this situation, I began to internalize this shame.

    I began to believe something was wrong with me, simply because I was intense and my family didn’t have the capacity or interest to teach me how to navigate my strong feelings. So I began to distrust my emotions and to hate myself to the core.

    This carried into my adulthood, where I found it difficult to believe that I was enough and that I deserved more than pain out of life.

    Recently, for the first time in my life, I found myself forced to deal with my self-defeating tendencies head-on in a situation that really challenged my letting go skills.

    I was in a relationship where I was deeply, head-over-heels in love with a man who I thought was my soul mate. He was everything a person would want—intelligent, deeply sensitive, compassionate, and handsome.

    The problem was, he was sinking further and further into drug addiction the longer we stayed together. I guess he didn’t feel he deserved love either, and the warmer we were with each other, the more he had to punish himself for it.

    Eventually I had to choose: Do I save him or save myself? In an ideal world, both would have happened and we would have gone riding off into the sunset together. But this was the real world, and the effects of his addictions and refusal to help himself were making me severely anxious, depressed, and physically sick to my stomach.

    When we feel like we’re caught in the cycle of endless pain that we attract and we don’t know how to get out, we are faced with a spiritual emergency. We can fall into a deep depression, or we can choose be gentle with ourselves and try to heal from it.

    If you’ve struggled with this as well, here are some things you can do to break your pattern.

    1. Reconsider your relationships with people who frequently self-sabotage.

    Challenge yourself to examine who you surround yourself with. Would you say most of your friends self-sabotage, as well? And more importantly, do they do it in a way that triggers your behavior? For instance, if you go out with a friend who tends to drink themselves into oblivion, are you then put in compromising situations where you are also likely to make questionable decisions?

    If so, the solution wouldn’t necessarily be to cut these people off, for they are obviously hurting and still capable of growth themselves. Sometimes you need to move on, but if you think the relationship is worth saving, you can practice compassion while also setting boundaries so you don’t enable them or set yourself up for failure.

    In my personal life, I’ve had to set boundaries with my godmother. She and I were always very close when I was growing up, as I spent almost every weekend with her exploring museums, restaurants, and antique shops in Los Angeles.

    She was always a bit self-deprecating, but it was more of a quirk than a real problem. A decade later, when she was in her mid-fifties, she fell into a really deep depression and stopped going to work.

    She clearly needed help, and so my mother and I did everything in our power to help her. Despite our efforts, a year went by and my godmother was still in self-destruct mode; she refused to leave her house, work, take her medication, or go to therapy.

    Because I was spending so much time investing her recovery and she still wasn’t getting better, I began to feel extremely guilty and depressed, which then triggered me to get hospitalized.

    So despite the fact that I love her dearly and was very sad that she had given up on life, I can only visit her every couple weeks now and instead of every day. I’ve communicated to her that although I love her, I need to focus on healing myself before saving anyone else.

    2. Re-examine your worldview.

    If you find yourself perpetually self-sabotaging, this is a great opportunity to examine your belief system. You may have values or thoughts that fuel your hurtful habits.

    For instance, some of us may hold the belief that life is meaningless. Some of us believe we deserve pain. Whatever the reason for these beliefs, it’s important we recognize them and take small steps to challenge them.

    In 2012, I went to spend the summer at a yoga retreat in Hawaii. The program promoted wellness and self-care through daily yoga classes, sharing meals together, practicing transparency, and more. I felt a strong sense of resistance to all of this because I perceived that living a life dedicated to inner peace and self-exploration was too self-indulgent.

    I obviously didn’t use the opportunity to connect with the people there that were trying to heal. Although at the time the experience wasn’t particularly impactful to me, it did challenge my thinking and over time I came to see self-love as necessary and not just self-indulgent.

    3. Pinpoint the habits that lead to your behavior.

    Self-destructive behavior manifests itself in the smallest of ways, such as dismissing compliments or turning down opportunities you don’t think you deserve. The sooner you become aware of how you are slowly eroding any chance of happiness in your life, the sooner you can reverse it.

    Habits that I had to learn to let go included choosing emotionally unavailable partners, indulging my eating disorders, cutting, moving around from job to job, and putting off pursuing my passions.

    When trying to change a habit, the best approach may be trying to make small steps toward change so you don’t become discouraged. Change can be difficult for all of us, and that includes changing deeply rooted old habits.

    4. Choose to accept more love in your life.

    This may be the hardest thing to do, especially if you feel you’re unworthy. But remember that by continuously choosing destructive situations, you’ll never have the opportunity to expand your worth. And so you’ll have to risk a bit of a new experience so you don’t get stuck in this cycle of self-loathing and self-destruction.

    Since you can’t control the love you receive from the other people, the best place to start is with self-love. Things like saving money, working out, and indulging in your hobbies are all acts of self-love.

    You will eventually begin to experience more happiness because of the positive opportunities you’ve allowed yourself to experience, and then it will feel a bit more natural to open yourself up to more to others.

    5. Find an outlet for the uncomfortable feelings that may come up for you.

    It was around college that I began to suspect that I was extremely self-destructive. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why I perpetually put myself in situations that were harmful to my well-being, while others around me seemed to be content making better choices for themselves.

    I knew a part of me wanted happiness, love, and success, so why was my behavior the complete opposite?

    I would skip class, hang out with people who did drugs, pursue men who didn’t respect me, judge people that were nice as “boring,” and seek chaos. I was desperately unhappy, but my fear made it difficult to really commit to changing.

    What helped me personally was converting my inner turmoil into art. This allowed me to validate what I was feeling and also provided a creative medium to communicate my inner experience with others, thus freeing me from my loneliness.

    It was only after completing a few writing projects that I was proud of that I began to build more self-worth. (I actually wrote a poem about self-harm, if you’re interested in checking it out.)

    —

    Although self-destructive behavior may always be an inclination for you, there are always things you can do to challenge yourself so that you have a shot at creating more positive experiences in your life. What works for you when it comes to overcoming behavior that sabotages your happiness?

  • Trust the Process

    Trust the Process

  • The Past Can Only Be Accepted

    The Past Can Only Be Accepted

  • Seek Respect, Not Attention

    Seek Respect, Not Attention

  • One Small Positive Thought Can Change Your Whole Day

    One Small Positive Thought Can Change Your Whole Day

  • Sometimes You Just Need to Focus on Yourself

    Sometimes You Just Need to Focus on Yourself

  • Love Isn’t Enough (and Other Reasons I Ended My Toxic Relationship)

    Love Isn’t Enough (and Other Reasons I Ended My Toxic Relationship)

    “Some people think that it’s holding on that makes one strong; sometimes it’s letting go.” ~Unknown

    Sometimes we prolong relationships for the sake of comfort and familiarity. We’re fearful of what’s out there, and life without a partner. No matter how many times we’ve been hurt, taken for granted, or had our needs neglected, we still choose to stay even if our mind and heart strongly suggest otherwise.

    I thought I was strong for putting up with my ex’s mistreatment. I had held the ability to forgive in high regard, and I wanted to keep that standard.

    I’m not exaggerating when I say I’ve been dumped fifty times by the same person, yet I put my happiness aside for them. I can’t even count the number of nights I cried myself to sleep. Even in the shower, I found myself taking longer than I used to because I shed my tears there, where nobody would find out.

    The worst part was when I could no longer fully express my feelings to other people due to the fear of getting hurt as I was being hurt in my relationship. I tried hard to numb my emotions so I wouldn’t have to deal with the pain, but that also meant being unable to feel joy or any other positive emotion.

    The last straw happened when I went on a three-week vacation in Canada and the United States. We didn’t communicate often due to my ex’s work, and I was touring different places with my family, so Internet wasn’t accessible at all times.

    I hadn’t felt so free in a long while. I focused on seeing the world and spending my time with my loved ones, and I didn’t miss my ex one bit. Coming home from a vacation always gave me post-travel depression, but this one hit me much harder, since I knew I had to face the reality of my relationship again.

    As expected, within days of my return, my ex and I fought for the nth time. I’ll never forget the exact words that were hurled at me. “You’re a loser. You don’t deserve a vacation.”

    The crying and self-loathing came back. Except this time, I knew I had a choice and realized that I was choosing my own heartbreak. I remember the freedom I’d felt while away and decided I wanted that feeling wherever I went.

    It might have been a hard pill to swallow, but after six years of an on-again, off-again relationship, I came to the conclusion that it was time to break it off for good.

    The process was far from easy. It was a messy and dramatic breakup, and it took two months until there was absolutely no contact between us. No texts, no calls, no emails or messages on messenger apps, nothing.

    We were together for six years, starting in my teens, so initially I had no idea how to move on from somebody who had been present while I was building my identity as a person.

    Times like these put us in deep contemplation. We ask ourselves, “Is the sole purpose of my existence for him/her?” Or we tell ourselves, “No one else can make me happy.”

    Well, I’m here to tell you that, no, those things aren’t true.

    It’s been almost a year now, and things have been incredible for me. I am proud to say that I have moved on 100% from my past relationship.

    The following are lessons I’ve learned along the way:

    1. Love alone is never enough.

    Formerly, I firmly believed that “love conquers all.” Never mind the problems, never mind the emotional abuse, never mind the important stuff we could never agree on; as long as there was love, everything would fall into place. But it didn’t.

    I loved my ex very much and was loved back, but that didn’t change that I’d been disrespected. It didn’t change that my needs weren’t being met, despite how vocal I was about them. Is it even possible to love somebody who constantly degrades you?

    We were unable to make it because while love was there, respect and understanding weren’t. I was too wounded to express all my thoughts and feelings because I knew they would only fall on deaf ears. Our relationship consisted of never-ending fights, and the false idea that love would solve our problems.

    When I recognized how much self-respect and dignity I’d sacrificed, I realized that relationships need more than love to be successful.

    Love is a powerful thing. We need it, it feels good, but we shouldn’t use it to justify losing ourselves.

    2. We’re worthy, with or without a partner.

    Other single people around me complain about their relationship status and use it as the basis of their self-worth. I used to think that way too, until I imagined what the future would be like if I continued to have that mentality.

    If I retained that mentality, I would never truly be happy because I would always be dependent on my partner for love. I would always need that external validation instead of focusing on how I felt about myself.

    Since my breakup, I choose to love myself through daily actions. I get more sleep at night, commit myself to a workout routine, eat healthier, and spend time around people who make me feel good about myself.

    I happily accept the love I receive from friends and family because I know that I’m worthy, and I’m deserving of good things in this world.

    3. Life is uncertain and we must embrace it.

    My ex and I planned to live in a small house, with lots of dogs, and travel the world. We were going to run away from my parents, who didn’t approve of us, and live happily ever after. We weren’t going to have any kids, but we were going to pour ourselves into charity.

    At least, that was the plan.

    When a relationship is new, everything is great. I thought we’d eventually get married and execute all our plans easily. I was treating it like a fairy tale and refused to believe that we were less than perfect for each other. Fast-forward six years later, almost everything drastically changed.

    After the breakup, the uncertainty scared me. I asked myself what was going to happen to me now that I didn’t have any plans. I never knew that freedom could be so terrifying and liberating at the same time.

    I didn’t let the fear of the unknown stop me from following through with my decision. If I had stayed, the same problems would have continued occurring. Nothing would have changed. I knew I would never be happy staying in something that was detrimental to my self-esteem.

    Of course, leaving my unhealthy relationship doesn’t guarantee my next one will work out; it just means I’ve opened myself up to the possibility of finding a suitable partner.

    The happiest people in history never settled for less than what they deserved when pursuing their goals. The same should apply in our search for a life partner. It’s only by knowing our worth that we’re able to find real, lasting love.

  • Enjoy the Little Things

    Enjoy the Little Things

    Get Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal here.

  • Accept, Let Go, Have Faith

    Accept, Let Go, Have Faith

  • How to Stop Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop and Start Living Fully

    How to Stop Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop and Start Living Fully

    “Use your precious moments to live life fully every single second of every single day.” ~Marcia Wieder

    I recently came back from an amazing vacation overseas with my family. All of our travel went smoothly, everyone stayed healthy, and there wasn’t any drama or conflict among family members. Other than one flight being delayed, it was perfect.

    On the way home from the trip my heart and soul were soaring from the fun we had enjoyed, savoring the memories in my mind and feeling grateful. I noticed, though, that when I returned home my mind slowly started to shift. Not because of the usual dread of coming back from vacation, but rather because things actually continued to go well at home.

    My adjustment to my jet lag was fine, and the first day back at work was actually nice. By all measures I should have continued to feel pretty happy! Instead, I began to anticipate that something bad would happen.

    I could hear the voice in my head reminding me that I had just enjoyed ten days of vacation, so surely it was time for something negative to take place—a cold, stress at work, something.

    It was almost as if I was inviting something bad into my life to temper the positivity I was feeling in the moment.

    Some people describe this is as “waiting for the other shoe to drop,” and in my family we called it “Catholic guilt.”

    As I’ve grown older, I’ve done this a little too often, in several different areas of life.

    If my kids have been healthy for a good stretch, I start to have sneaky thoughts about how they’re “due soon” for a bout of some type of illness.

    If my finances are under control, I’ll wonder if we’ll have an unexpected repair that will take us off course.

    It’s not a concern if those thoughts float in and out, but I seem to have problems when they linger and begin to detract from what I am doing in the present.

    The truth is that life does change constantly, and there are ebbs and flows between happiness and pain.

    In one instant our situations can shift so drastically that we will be left reeling, so expecting that every day will be wonderful is obviously both unrealistic and unhelpful. Yet I’ve found that anxiously awaiting some sort of tragedy or pain often diminishes my current happiness.

    Waiting for the other shoe to drop is this tricky way that we rob ourselves of a good feeling in the now because we are nervously anticipating something negative in the future.

    A balance between fear about the future and a naive optimism is possible; we could call this space living fully.

    Living fully is where we acknowledge that life will bring suffering and beauty, pain and happiness, challenge and comfort, and it will all come at different times. If we live fully, we do our best to float gracefully between these times, aiming not to get “stuck” in a space of overwhelming tension.

    This is not an easy task, but below are some suggestions for those who want to decide not to wait in constant fear of that other shoe dropping.

    Tips for Living Fully

    1. Find time to be present.

    The beauty of being present is that, by definition, it doesn’t allow you to be anywhere else. When you find time to be in the moment, anticipatory thoughts about bad things happening may enter your mind, but you will gently and swiftly guide them to the side.

    Each of us has our unique ways of being present, whether it be a yoga class or exercise, quiet observation of nature, or meditation. Even a few minutes of quiet can be helpful in getting centered and focused.

    2. Try savoring.

    Just like you might enjoy a good glass of wine or a bite of cheesecake, you can also savor positive emotions or events.

    For example, I could recall the vacation I took overseas, reliving a particularly fun outing or adventure. I could talk about the trip with my family and coworkers, and look at pictures. As I do that I would begin to bring back those memories, and those positive emotions associated with these memories would also come back.

    3. Introduce some logic to your thoughts.

    Sometimes our thoughts can run away from us, going down a path that we know isn’t logical or helpful.

    In the case of anticipating something negative, I’ve found that I can best stop the thoughts with this simple reasoning: “Yes, it is inevitable that something bad will happen at some point, but I don’t know when or where. So, I might as well enjoy what I’m feeling now so later I won’t regret not having enjoyed that time when things were going well.”

    4. Practice gratitude.

    Being aware of what we have in our lives orients us to the present. We can always find something or someone to appreciate, and in showing this appreciation we gain an increased awareness of its beauty.

    Expressing gratitude can be private (e.g., keeping a gratitude journal or list) or public (e.g., writing a letter of thanks to someone), but I’m preferential to personal reminders of gratitude.

    For example, when I am feeling the joy of doing something I love or spending time with friends and family, I try to remember to say to myself: “this moment is good.” Just saying that brings me to the present and acknowledges my gratitude in the moment.

    5. Spend time with people who also like to live fully.

    It’s no mystery that emotions can be contagious. Friends or loved ones who are perpetually negative can influence our mindset, particularly if we find ourselves feeling anxious or dreading something negative happening.

    While we shouldn’t avoid or shun friends who are struggling, we can be purposeful about finding time to spend with those who give us a burst of positive energy through their ability to live fully.

    —

    Our lives are in flux, and change is inevitable. By not constantly waiting for the bad stuff to happen, and instead focusing on the now, we can flow more easily, joyfully, and fully through our days.

  • You Are More Than Your Mistakes

    You Are More Than Your Mistakes

  • Where Words Fail, Music Speaks

    Where Words Fail, Music Speaks

  • Take the Leap: Reinvent Yourself and Be Who You Want to Be

    Take the Leap: Reinvent Yourself and Be Who You Want to Be

    “The only thing that punk rock should ever really mean is not sitting around and waiting for the lights to go green.” ~Frank Turner

    I was exactly where I should have been on the afternoon I jumped. I was four years post-undergrad at an elite private college, halfway through a Masters Degree from the nation’s top Social Work program, about to begin an internship, and working three public service jobs simultaneously. My boyfriend had just moved into my apartment, and the feeling of being “settled” was just starting to sink in.

    The remaining challenge of adulthood, it seemed, would be finding the energy to keep working seven days a week on no sleep, maintaining each job so the humble salary of any single one wouldn’t become my sole source of income.

    It seemed fair to me. But moreover, it seemed normal. My father had driven to work at 4:00am my entire life, only returning at dinnertime to retreat to his home office and get started on his other work—the stuff that really paid the bills. Now that I was in my twenties it felt appropriate, mature even, to grind away the day and night and wear sleeplessness with pride.

    The “nobility” of my work in foster care added an even deeper sense of meaning. I felt my own self-worth balloon in relation to how many families I visited each week, how many ice cream cones I bought for abandoned kids, and how many miles I put on my car. It seemed to be filling some empty space in me.

    On some days, when I wasn’t listening to audio courses or dictating homework into my phone on the way to work, I would play a favorite punk album and sink into memory: epic sing-a-longs in dark rooms with my favorite bands and sweaty strangers.

    I’d remember the thrill of wandering Berkeley, California (my heart home) at night, pen in hand, and letting the poetry flood through me. I’d feel the thrill of sharing my words with other artists, talking free verse and Tom Waits and chapbook titles.

    But that was rare. I had grown up.

    Like most who plunge full-hearted into social services, my passion had formed as a direct response to a lifelong series of personal sh*t-storms, and my mission was to learn how to use my experiences to help others.

    And here I was, doing it, making the difference. By twenty-five I had built an unmistakable identity. Ambitious and tough, I was proud that my accomplishments in addition to my exterior image (despite my 5’2”/100 lb. stature) spoke of tenacity, unexpected power, and passion.

    Except at night I watched my boyfriend’s band practice and something bubbled under the surface, making my throat ache and my fists clench anxiously. At work I’d talk to clients about the importance of holistic health, drawing out their Life Circle and stressing the importance of following your bliss and all that new-age crap. I’d smile and shake hands and say things like, “If it doesn’t make you happy, don’t do it.”

    And I’d feel like a fraud.

    I was always, always, always in helper mode, but I was tired and numb. I longed just to find a sunny spot and read a book. 

    If you’re a helper, a healer, or a big-hearted person by nature, you know this ride, the push and pull of every daily interaction. An immediate clinical assessment, the five-minute inventory of a total stranger’s strengths and needs, and the “simple” things you can and must do to help them, make them smile, save them.

    Go to the grocery store and repeat. Go to your second and third job and ask what else you can do for the team. Go home and make dinner. Chip away at the text-stream, put out fires, offer condolences, advice, and both ears. Try to read five pages of a new self-help book before falling asleep on the couch, spent.

    Unchecked, it’s easy to live and die this way.

    So when I reached the top of the rock cliff forty feet above the calm blue quarry, I wasn’t expecting the invisible force that pulled me forward, though I should have been—my rebellious spirit had been waiting for the right moment to rescue me.

    To this day, the line between accident and intention is blurry. I had scaled the same precipice many times before, watching from the grassy patches as others ran and leapt and landed feet-first in the water with glee. My deep phobia of water was powerful, though, and I was always happy to climb back down the rocky slope to meet my friends at the shore.

    But this time was different; I was begging for an alternate ending. It wasn’t that I was knowingly asking for death, or even feeling particularly self-destructive. It was more like a deep internal urgency had hitched itself to the late summer air, and all at once, I knew I was supposed to take the plunge, to surrender myself to gravity, to water and earth.

    It was a sunny September day and my man was waiting in the water below.

    I wasn’t thinking about my lifelong fear of drowning, or my work cell phone, which was definitely ringing incessantly in the car a few miles back through the woods. I wasn’t thinking of anything. But my heart was pounding up my throat. My hands were sweating, and every time I revved myself up to make the short run to the edge, my stomach dropped and my feet felt stuck in mud.

    For the final minute on top of that cliff I felt the weight of my entire life—the straight A’s, the career ladder, the desperate drive to please my parents, the pressure, the self-denial—holding me in place. Still, sirens were ringing in my head and something wild was screaming, begging me to move.

    I took one last shaking breath, willed my right foot forward, then my left, pushed my black Vans off the edge, and leapt into empty air. 

    In order to land safely in the quarry, a diver must maintain perfect aim and balance, remaining upright so the impact of twelve feet of water is absorbed through the feet. Instead, closing my eyes and curling instinctively into fetal position, I hit the water face first. The impact shattered the bones in my face, causing my eye to break through the socket—muscles trapped in fissures, vision lost, reality gone.

    The last thing I remember from my first life is the feeling of a heated blanket in a dark hospital room. The neck brace made it hard to breathe and harder to gag each time I felt like puking from the pain.

    Paul, my man, my motivator, and my guardian angel, sat beside me in a metal folding chair for hours. When the painkillers finally took over and I sunk into oblivion, the feeling came rushing and brought tears to my eyes—stillness, relief, ecstasy. I whispered to Paul, though probably only in my mind, “Thank you for killing me.”

    It was a sweet farewell from my first self, and a grateful nod from a new me.

    The intensive recovery process prohibited work of any kind. In a novel medical approach the surgeon inflated a balloon within my sinus cavity, reconstructing my face and ensuring my vision could return to normal. But the delicate procedure deemed most normal daily functions dangerous, if not impossible. Worse, the hardcore regimen of painkillers and antibiotics left me covered in hives, photosensitive, exhausted, and constantly nauseous. But internally I was giddy, on fire, new.

    In a blur of exhilaration and terror, I was forced to stand still. To examine my swollen face and black eyes every morning and decide how to spend each day. I was an infant again. I was Dobby holding a sock—shocked, ecstatic, but unsure where to start.

    So I found a sunny spot and read a book.

    And every day, while the world worked and worried and wondered about identity and success and all the other mental prisons I was used to, I drove to cafes with comfy couches and read. And I wrote. And I contacted venues and bands to set up shows and I listened to all my old favorite albums.

    I found a cute little house outside of Woodstock for my boyfriend and me to feel like ourselves. We hung up all my posters from bands I grew up on and had friends over whenever we could, just to sit still, and talk, and feel.

    My internship was filled by another MSW student, and my grad school granted me a leave of absence. My foster care caseload was divided among my coworkers. By force, I was freed.

    That year I began therapy with a psychologist who not only helped me safely explore my past traumas, but also guided me into my second life with compassion and empowerment. I read and read and read, and the words poured back out of me.

    In the spring I decided to drop out of grad school for good, feeling confident in my own abilities as a social worker and student. In the process I was able to shed the borrowed beliefs that had led me to max out student loans and wear down my true self in pursuit of institutionalized validation. My life itself was suddenly enough.

    When I was able to return to work, I kept my full-time job in foster care and quit the rest. My coworkers whispered about “brain injury” and wondered if I was permanently messed up. But I gave myself permission to sit still and to call my own shots. I negotiated a flexible schedule and worked on publishing poems and building a creative business that made me feel alive, but more importantly, like myself.

    I don’t recommend jumping off a forty-foot cliff in the height of your professional climb. But I beg you—yes you, exhausted social worker, stressed out salesperson, dejected teacher, grown up punk, secret poet—to give yourself permission to pause.

    Question who you’re living for, who you work for every day. Question your values; are they really yours? Deconstruct your identity. Have you been carrying the same stories about yourself for decades (“I’m the hard worker, the overachiever, the struggling professional”)?

    Are you making a difference in the way that only you can? What will it take for you to push pause? Reset?

    Who would emerge if you killed your current self?

    Liberation looks different to everyone, and it’s always evolving.

    I still have a day job. My rent checks still occasionally bounce. My parents will forever be disappointed that I’m not a famous journalist or whatever by now. I still get rejection letters from publishers, and I have bouts of paralyzing depression… But there’s a different kind of dignity and drive that’s born when you take your life back from Default Mode, when you declare your own Red Light Moment and stop, then step back to take inventory.

    When your life belongs to you alone, every struggle has a purpose and every triumph is yours to celebrate. Being able to use my innate gifts to do work that fires me up, automatically multiplies my impact on the world. The same goes for you.

    What’s the thing you excel at without trying? Start there. Pretend the light has just gone green.

    Then take the leap. Listen to the wild voice that whispers to you, and trust the motion it compels.

    Chances are, you’ll land on your feet and someone will be there to guide you back to shore. But if you find yourself pummeling toward “death,” embrace it. Let your old self die along with the dogma and pressures that have worked on your tired soul all these years. If you want it, there’s a whole new world, and a better you, waiting on the other side.

    Then, curate your new life—ditch the jobs that suck your soul out through bloodshot eyeballs and forced smile. Purge the toxic relationships even if it means drawing a thick and terrifying line in the sand before close family and friends. It’s scary and most people will warn against this type of “recklessness.”

    Just don’t neglect to fill the void. Fill it with art and music or podcasts on self-improvement or long late-night talks with people you admire.

    If you can’t find the scene you’re looking for, make it. If you’re aching for more, build it. If you find yourself ready and waiting for the moment, it’s already here. Jump.

    *Disclaimer: Neither Tiny Buddha nor the author is advocating physically harming yourself to facilitate your personal evolution. The message is about embracing your truth and choosing to be reborn, not risking your life.

  • Inhale the Present, Exhale the Past

    Inhale the Present, Exhale the Past

  • How Reframing Your Self-Critical Thoughts Can Help Ease Anxiety

    How Reframing Your Self-Critical Thoughts Can Help Ease Anxiety

    “Don’t let the sadness of your past and the fear of your future ruin the happiness of your present.” ~Unknown

    I know what it feels like to be scared.

    I know what it feels like to question your sanity, your worth, your place in this world.

    Sometimes, all I can do is repeat the words it’s okay over and over and over again in my head, until I kind of, somewhat, maybe start to believe it’s true.

    Anxiety sucks. Depression does too. They’re not my favorites of the emotions we humans get to experience. But, truthfully, they have a purpose.

    I’ve been having panic attacks for a little over six months now. They’re still new to me, and every one is so different.

    The physical symptoms change, I’m still learning what my “triggers” are, and the ups and downs between my moods vary in time and extremity. But there’s one thing that has been consistent since the beginning, which is that every time I start to feel anxiety or depression creep in, I instantly hate myself.

    I sense the pit of worry in my stomach, and I hate myself. I wake up feeling sad, and I hate myself. I have to transfer money from my savings account, and I hate myself. I mess up at work, and I hate myself. I feel the uncertainty of my future, and I hate myself.

    As soon as I begin to enter that state, it’s the start of the freaking pity party of the century. Pretty soon all of my thoughts sound something along the lines of…

    I’m so messed up.

    No one else feels this way.

    I’m broken beyond repair.

    I shouldn’t feel this way.

    Why can’t I just be happy?

    I’m not good enough to be happy.

    There’s no way I’m going to get through this.

    I thought I had come so far.

    There’s just no point.

    I can’t remember the last time I felt happy, or excited, or tired, or bored, and thought anything close to these dark, nasty thoughts. So why do I instantly start abusing myself with such hateful thinking when these specific emotions of anxiety and depression appear?

    But wait! There’s good news here. This isn’t just a pity party, after all.

    I realized that there’s a way to pull myself out of the cyclical trap of feel sad or anxious, then hating myself for feeling sad or anxious, and then hating myself for hating myself for feeling sad or anxious.

    It’s a vicious cycle, but there is a simple solution: compassion, self-love, and reframing.

    For example, today I had a series of mini breakdowns, which included locking myself in my car so I could cry in (semi) privacy, throwing up in the bathroom at work because my stomach was so full of acidic worry it made me sick, leaving work early because of how I felt, and sobbing in my shower for about twenty minutes while wasting precious hot water. (#BestDayEver)

    So what did I do to turn it around?

    I treated myself with compassion and self-love, and reframed my negative thoughts.

    I showered, put on comfy clothes, made a cup of tea, and lit my favorite candle. I turned on Girls in the background because Hannah always makes me feel better. I read a few pages from one of my favorite books. I did some deep breathing. I told myself “I’m going to be okay” at least one hundred thousand times (slight exaggeration, maybe).

    Then, I started to pay attention to my thoughts as an outside observer. I was able to look at some of the terrible things I say to myself like “I’m so messed up” and “I shouldn’t feel this way,” and was able to crack them open for analysis.

    I was able to look at it from an objective point of view and question: Are these thoughts really true? And if not, can I replace these thoughts with ones that are actually true?

    Some examples…

    I’m so messed up became I’m going through a tough time right now, like everyone else in the world has, but it doesn’t reflect my worthiness or importance as an individual.

    I shouldn’t feel this way became It’s okay to feel down or nervous sometimes, because it’s temporary and it doesn’t define who I am.

    I’m broken beyond repair became I’m just figuring the craziness of this life out, as we all are, and I’ll feel better soon.

    There’s just no point became I have an infinite number of resources and people in my life who love and support me, and I’m worthy of that love and support.

    The stories that we tell ourselves are just that: stories. What we say to ourselves in our heads can hugely impact the way we perceive our lives and our self-worth.

    As the Buddha said, “We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.”

    By becoming more mindful of the stories running through your mind, you’re able to take an objective view on how those stories makes you feel, and then decide if they’re worth keeping around or not. If they’re not, choose to let them go.

    Reframing, self-love, and compassion are the three tools I use to help guide me through anxiety and depression. It’s all a learning process, but I can confidently say that this has helped me so much more than self-medicating or trying to ignore the problem.

    By observing our thoughts and the way we speak to ourselves in times of struggle, we can get a picture of how much we actually love ourselves, and then ramp up the love and positivity until we can’t help but feel better

    If you’re going through anxiety, depression, or any other tough time, I encourage you to:

    • Slow down; hit pause
    • Remember that you’re worthy of love and happiness
    • Take a few deep breaths, and tune into that inner dialogue you have going on
    • See if there are any negative thoughts or stories running through your mind that you can challenge
    • Replace them with positive, love-based truths

    Try to remember that we’re all just living, breathing, crazy little human beings, floating around on this planet through a limitless universe for a microscopic moment of time. None of us really know what the heck is going on here.

    We’re all just trying to get by, and have a little fun while doing it. Remember that you’re worthy of love from others, but most importantly, from yourself. And try to ease up on yourself. It’s okay to feel bad. It’s also okay to feel good. They’re two sides of the same coin, and that’s what this life is all about… our depth of human experiences and our connection to something more.

    I’m thankful for anxiety and depression because those emotions present me with an opportunity. It’s a chance for me to fall victim to my fear-based, negative stories, or for me to choose to see things from a place of love instead. The next time you feel those emotions creeping in, I challenge you to ask yourself, what do you choose?

  • My Goal Is Not to Be Better Than Anyone Else

    My Goal Is Not to Be Better Than Anyone Else

  • Quiet the Voice Telling You To Do More and Be More

    Quiet the Voice Telling You To Do More and Be More