Tag: wisdom

You Have the Right to Feel Safe in Your Relationships (Even with Your Family)

“Anger is a signal, and one worth listening to[…] It exists for a reason and always deserves our respect and attention.” ~Harriet G. Lerner, The Dance of Anger

My journey to authentic safety began, at long last, with my discovery of my own anger.

Anger is my least favorite emotion. I don’t even particularly like its cousins—annoyance, irritation, frustration.

The moment that cemented my profound dislike occurred when I was a teenager.

I had tucked myself away in a corner of the house—in the dark den where my family kept the computer. (Just a word processor—this was in the dark ages before the internet.)

I was doing homework, I think, and an extended family member who was staying with us—someone I had always trusted and looked up to—burst into the room to confront me about something. (I don’t recall what it was, but I doubt it was particularly bad. I was a straight-A student, a people-pleasing, we-must-ALL-play-strictly-by-the-rules kind of child and teen.)

I don’t remember what I said or did; I think I felt distracted. In any case, I somehow neglected to give my family member what he wanted and he grabbed the printed pages I’d set next to the computer.

They were the pages of an important piece of writing I’d recently handed in at school; they’d been returned with a good grade, and, to my pleased delight, some specific words of praise scrawled in my teacher’s handwriting.

My family member grabbed the pages and tore them to express his impotent frustration at not getting the response he’d wanted from me. I so clearly remember the distorted, crazed look of pure rage on his face.

I remember thinking something like,

That’s really not okay. Those pages, with those handwritten words, can’t be replaced. You are out of control. YOU are acting like a tantruming, irrational, destructive child.

Looking at this from an outsider’s perspective, I realize this would probably not strike most people as a bad outburst. It’s pretty mild.

But to put it in context: On the one hand, my parents were pretty nurturing, and angry outbursts were rare. There was some dysfunction, but enough stability and normalcy that I had a strong inner sense of what things should look like between people.

At the same time, there was a lot of mental illness in my immediate and extended family—a lot of weird, distorted thought and behavior, a lot of unpredictability. Part of why I was such a rule-follower, or, rule-worshipper, even, was that it made life feel safe. Contained.

I just hated anything that felt out-of-control.

I yearned for things to feel normal, reasonable, safe. My trusted family member’s irrational rage struck me as emotionally chaotic; the kind of extremely disorderly thing I despised.

I remember moving into a very distant place inside myself, and vowing something along the lines of:

I don’t ever want to behave like that. Ever. I will never be like that.

Many, many years later, as a long-married adult, I experienced a dramatic counterpoint to that.

I was in my own home, and thinking about someone I love very much and how they had recently been betrayed in a way that was cruel, unjust, and profoundly devastating.

Thinking about the person who had done the betraying, I imagined picking up a heavy piece of furniture in the room (far too heavy for me to lift, in actuality), and throwing it at the wall.

The image startled me and I paused. And then I realized: “Oh. I’m angry. I’m feeling anger. This is what that feels like.”

I now realize it was dangerous for me to distance myself so deeply from my own anger. Not because I’ve ever been likely to act out mindlessly on that repressed anger, but because I had placed myself out of hearing range of the vitally important information that anger holds for all of us.

I couldn’t hear myself scream.

In The Dance of Anger, Harriet G. Lerner writes, “Our anger may be a message that we are being hurt, that our rights are being violated… or simply that something is not right.”

Letting the signals of anger go unperceived is potentially quite risky; those messages may turn out to be important.

It’s also risky to ignore things like: a feeling of discomfort, because something about a situation feels weird or “off,” a feeling of jitteriness. A feeling of I’d rather not be here.

All of these sensations are ones that we’re often discouraged from acting on, but perhaps most especially, with our families. With families, distancing ourselves from our bodies and the unpleasant feelings and signals they may hold for us, is so common that it’s a joke.

“Oh, the holidays are coming up? Time to get plastered!”

The lesson our society seems to be teaching here is: it’s best just to ignore how you actually feel.

Of course, our interpersonal lives are filled with friction; it’s impossible to feel totally at ease with everyone, all the time. It can be noble and constructive to avoid fights, to let little things go.

But sometimes, kindly acting on the information that anger has given us is the most important, most constructive thing one can do.

Friendships and family relationships require care and attention to be healthy. Acknowledging where we feel uncomfortable or angry or hurt, and taking gentle action as early and often as we reasonably can, is a way of honouring and protecting a vitally important connection. So that it doesn’t degrade; so that discord and distrust can be repaired; so that both people in a relationship feel safe and can grow, together.

Ignoring things and hoping they’ll magically get better, well, it turns out, that doesn’t work so well.

Anger deferred too long means that something (or someone) is getting extinguished. In the short term, it’s the person ignoring their own inner signals who is silenced. But that can only be endured so long.

Ignored anger goes underground, but it doesn’t go away. Eventually a person’s boundaries must be protected. After enough pressure builds up, anger erupts, and, too often, breaks trust and destroys friendships.

With families, even more is on the line. We are influenced and affected by family members in ways that are well below our conscious awareness. And there is an active risk of harm to that most vulnerable and emotionally vital part of you—that “inner child” deep within.

I can speak from personal experience about something that all too many of us have had to go through.

When healthier members of a family grow—go into therapy, learn to recognize inappropriate or dysfunctional (even abusive) patterns and behaviors—they naturally want to help bring those insights back into their family systems. To initiate healthier patterns, for everyone.

Attempting that can bring about a negative outcome that is simply blindsidingly bad. (It’s hard to anticipate because most relationships don’t operate like family relationships.)

That blindsidingly bad outcome is: that our family system will not only refuse to change along with us, but our family members will deny that there are any problems at all.

Or, they will tell us both that we are wrong about there being a problem, and, that we are the problem.

Which is crazy-making and awful.

In families, there can be tremendous pressure to let our unallowable anger go unaddressed, to deny our own reality until we extinguish us—our truths, our rights, our authentic selves.

That’s a tragic, awful, unjust outcome. That doesn’t have to happen; instead, find someone—or better, many someones—whom you trust, who believe you, and figure things out in a safe, secure, reliable space.

We are far more whole and wiser,* when we listen to the truths that our bodies, minds, and hearts are desperately trying to communicate to us. This is far from a simple process; listening to our feelings does not mean (as I believed for a long time) melding with the strongest feeling, identifying with it, acting without reflection on whatever the feeling wanted me to do.

Figuring out how to listen well to feelings, how to respond to them from a place of separate-but-compassionate insight, what to do with the awareness and energy they offer—this is a long-term process.

Finding a way to stay safe within a family system, on top of all of that—well, to my mind, there is no absolute right course of action for this.

Having the courage and insight to change, and the further courage to protect our evolving well-being inside our families, it can be so complicated, so challenging, (so grueling!) to navigate all of that.

Self-protection might involve avoiding the family (or certain members) while you take time to figure things out; making gentle requests for a family member to do things a little differently; asking one or more members to go to meditation or therapy with you; it might mean a short, long, or forever period of limited or no contact. It might mean a whole host of other things, entirely.

In other words, it can take a whole lot of exploring and planning with people you trust, who stand outside the family, who have expert knowledge and are absolutely committed to your well-being, to find the path that is right for you, that makes your inner self safe and secure.

It took years for me to understand that when I said “no” to owning and knowing my own anger, I was leaving an extremely wise, and powerfully protective piece of myself behind.

Anger can feel combustible; but it’s also energetic and fierce. It can lend us its strength and bravery and confidence.

Of course, everything that bothers or angers us does not, by itself, constitute a reason to take immediate or drastic action. A world of hair-trigger tantrummers would be a nightmarish one.

But if we are made to feel violated or uncomfortable, invaded in a way that feels “not right” in certain intimate relationships, especially relationships within our family of origin, there is no higher or more urgent calling than to heed and protect that inner child.*

You have the right to protect your heart. The little one within needs you. S/he doesn’t need you to commit arson or murder; s/he might even be safest if you lay low for awhile; but no external accusation against you has any merit whatsoever, if you are taking good care of him or her.

It is not mean, it is not rude, it is not selfish, it is not disloyal, it does not make you a bad daughter/son, brother/sister, family member/friend, to protect that inner child.

Protecting our hearts doesn’t make us “bad” people; vigilantly and nonviolently protecting our hearts is exactly what makes it possible for us to be good, kind, generous human beings.

I still crave approval, like the kid and teen I once was. I still want people to think I’m a “good” person (daughter/ niece/ friend). I still hate to let people down.

But that sort of concern doesn’t matter in the least when it comes to my inner child. For her sake, it is irrelevant whether anyone else likes me or my choices, my words, my behavior, my values.

Ultimately, all that matters is that I protect her. Because her safety is what makes all the rest possible—my sanity, my well-being, my commitment to my values.

I can offer the world my best when I am whole; when I feel safe in the ways that matter to my inner, sensitive, wisely aware child. She may not have the cognitive tools to make sense of what’s going on; she needs my help, to understand and to take right action. But she has a deep, instinctual knowledge of what is and isn’t safe for me/ us.

My highest, most sacred duty is to protect my vulnerable inner self; if my inner child is crying for my attention, that is a more urgent concern than anything else. Caring for her doesn’t make me rude or selfish or disloyal or bad; it makes me a kind, whole, responsible adult.

I value kindness above almost anything else; in my most drastically self-protective actions, I have tried to speak carefully, act gently. But I am ruthlessly committed to my well-being, because without it, I’m worse than “mean” or any other name you might call me—I’m nothing. I’m a powerless, silenced sufferer.

My goodness is a fount that flows from my refusal to allow my inner child to be invaded or abused.

My intact wellness—protected by heeding my inner signals and guarding my boundaries—is the source of my integrity and insight and strength.

If something feels not okay, you and I have the right to disengage, to step out and walk away. At. Any. Point. Without permission or explanation. Even, and especially, within your family.

In fact, the title of this post could have been:

You Have the Absolute Right to Take the Nonviolent Actions Necessary For You to Feel SAFE, at All Times, Especially with Your Family

Family patterns change slowly. All too often, violence, abuse, and other unhealthy patterns are passed along for generation after generation. We can interrupt this cycle by taking ruthlessly kind and compassionately wise care of ourselves.

Let us make our world one that is safe for children, one inner child at a time.

—

Footnotes:

*I’m NOT an expert on this, but it’s my understanding that sometimes, in threatening, abusive situations, dissociating from the reality of what we’re feeling is actually a really effective coping strategy. Coping with and coming back from dissociation is, unfortunately, outside the humble scope of this article; but I hope it’s obvious that I symbolically lend my love and support to anyone on that journey.

**I’m sensitive to the fact that responsible adults should actively nurture and protect their own actual child/ren first and foremost (and their inner child second). It seems a tricky thing to balance, and I hope that those seeking a resolution to this question will look, broadly and openheartedly, to the spirit and heart of what I have written here. Also, it is my hope, for all of us who parent or teach or mentor children, that we have been given or found the chance to do vital self-parenting work, first.

Finally: a few minor details included in this piece have been altered to protect the innocent.

November 14, 2016
How to Stop Worrying: 5 Things to Try When Nothing Else Works
“I’ve been through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened.” ~Mark Twain

If you’re like me—a worry prodigy from a young age—you hate when people say, “Don’t worry about it.” As if it were so easy, as if I hadn’t already tried.

I’ve used many of the tips and tricks out there. Some of them helped for a while, but few did much for long.

The trouble is, most of the advice out there only addresses the symptoms of worry. It’s like taking cherry-flavored cough syrup when you have bronchitis: tempting, and probably the most palatable option, but not likely to do any lasting good since it doesn’t address the real issue.

I’ve been a worrier ever since I was seven years old and slept with my covers over my head because I was afraid that foxes and burglars would attack me at night.

What I’ve learned over the years of working with worry—a nice way to phrase it, though it could also be described as obsessively thinking, planning, and catastrophizing, forgetting to breathe, and grinding my teeth—is that resisting it only makes it grow stronger. In order to find freedom from apprehension, you have to get to its root.

So here are five things you can try if you’ve meditated, said your positive affirmations, and smelled your grapefruit (yes, it’s a thing) and your worries still haven’t gone away:

1. Get curious about why you worry.

As I got older, I began to notice what a big drain worry was on my time and energy. I saw how it never helped me feel stronger, more innovative, or more able to respond. I also began to read about all the negative impacts it has on our health and well-being. So naturally I started to worry about being worried.

A much better response would have been to get curious about why I did it. Because we all get something out of worrying or we wouldn’t do it.

In my case, I realized that I do it most when I feel powerless. The act of worrying helps me feel like I’m doing something, like I have some sort of control over an uncontrollable situation.

Worry can also distract us from even scarier parts of our lives, or from our own intense emotions. And it can help us feel like we’re protecting ourselves and what’s important to us just by thinking about them. Though worrying can’t actually change anything in reality, it can promise to help us feel more empowered and secure.

We worry because we think it helps. When we see what worry promises, we can also see clearly what it fails to deliver. Without this clarity, letting go of worries can feel too scary for most of us to attempt. With it, we can find new, more effective ways of dealing with uncertainty in a world where so much is out of our control.

2. Feel your fear.

In some ways, worrying is an attempt to avoid what you fear, which is really an effort to avoid fear itself. Feel the fear, and the worry becomes unnecessary.

I experienced this recently when I had the idea for a novel. For the first couple of months, everything was great. I kept getting ideas, writing them down, and feeling more and more excited about the project.

And then when I decided to actually start writing the novel, I had a breakdown. Suddenly I couldn’t stop thinking about the story line, going over and over it in my head, worrying that something was wrong with it, and trying to get it right.

Every spare moment I had, I was in my head trying to solve this imaginary problem. I couldn’t relax, I could barely sleep, and I certainly couldn’t write.

Finally it occurred to me that the reason I was worrying so much was because I was terrified. I experienced what felt like a huge rejection of my writing when I was young, and it devastated me. This was the first major project I had attempted since then, and part of me was scared that the same thing would happen all over again.

Once I became aware of it, I felt a tidal wave of fear waiting to wash over me. And though part of me wanted desperately to avoid it, I knew I needed to let it in. So I did.

It wasn’t pleasant. Fear can be very uncomfortable, and we avoid it for a reason.

But similar to storm clouds that look dark and sinister on the horizon, once the feeling actually arrived on my shores, it washed over me like rain. I was reminded that fear is really just a bundle of uncomfortable sensations that I can handle. And then it’s gone.

When you let yourself feel your fear of whatever outcome you’re trying to avoid, it loses its power over you.

The best way I know to do this is to name your fear, exactly what it is that frightens you. Then you can let yourself feel it, by sitting quietly, or dancing it out, or moving and noticing where you feel it in your body. If you can let it be there, knowing that it’s temporary and can’t harm you, you can free yourself from the need to distract yourself from it with worry.

3. Do what you can.

Too often we try to get rid of our worries without truly understanding them. The problem is, worries are kind of like toddlers: when they aren’t listened to, they get louder. When they aren’t listened to for long enough, they throw a tantrum.

Our worries are really just trying to help us. They can usually point us towards something worth paying attention to, so it’s worth listening to them.

You can do this by asking yourself:
- What feels like it’s at stake here, and why is this important to me?
- What does this worry want from me?
- How can I address this concern in a way that feels good to me?
In the case of my fears about writing a novel, I realized that the worry was trying to make sure that I wasn’t hurt or disappointed again. It wanted to protect me from possible rejection. It felt like my entire self-worth was at stake, that if I failed, I would know with certainty that I had nothing of value to offer the world.

The worry wanted me to protect myself. It wanted me to make sure that what I did was so good that it couldn’t possibly be unappreciated.

These realizations led me to do two things: first, I reminded the part of myself that was scared that though there will be people out there who don’t like what I write, there are a lot of others who will. Nothing appeals to everyone, and though disappointment hurts, it’s also temporary. Regardless, there’s always value in what I create from the heart, and my worthiness doesn’t depend on the result of one project.

And secondly, I committed to going slowly. Part of myself felt very scared, so rather than push myself out of my comfort zone all at once, I resolved to take baby steps and give my vulnerable self time to feel it out and adjust.

I also promised myself that I would only share it when I was ready, and would start with the people and communities who were most likely to appreciate it. When I did this, I no longer felt the need to obsess about the story.

Sometimes listening to worry’s hidden wisdom and taking action on its behalf is enough to convince it to lay down its arms.

4. Accept the worst.

This is easier said than done, but it’s one of the most powerful ways to undercut worry.

I had to do this big time when I made the decision to get married.

At the time, I was so worried about making a mistake that I could barely think about anything else. (And just to be clear, this had nothing to do with my lovely husband-to-be. I was so scared of committing at the time that I could have been dating Prince Charming and I still would have had doubts.)

It was only when I came to terms with the fact that our relationship might not last forever that I was able to stop worrying and take the plunge. Don’t get me wrong—I sincerely hope that we’re happy together ever after, but I also know that we may not be. And that’s fine. Splitting up would be painful, difficult, and sad—and I also know I would survive and ultimately be okay.

Many of the things we worry about (failure, rejection, embarrassment, inconvenience) are pretty much just temporary challenges when you get down to it.

But even for those things that are more painful or permanent, there is a way to accept them and know you’ll be okay. No matter what happens, you’ll have options for moving forward. Other people will always be there to help. And regardless of what goes wrong, you can count on all the incredible internal resources you have (compassion, loving-kindness, wisdom, strength, intelligence, resilience, humor, joy) being there to support you.

Being willing to accept anything isn’t easy, but it’s an incredibly powerful way to find more equanimity and peace.

5. Practice trust.

The idea of trusting the universe used to give me a rash.

It seemed to me that it was hard work, foresight, and copious amounts of worry that held everything together in my life. I believed that if I relaxed at all, things would fall apart.

But eventually it dawned on me that as capable and amazing as I am, I do not single-handedly hold the world together. I began to notice how other people grow my food, trees create the oxygen I breathe, and the sun provides me with lots of light and warmth everyday, all without my involvement.

What’s more, I realized that if I’m being honest with myself, most of the good things in my life didn’t happen solely because of my own foresight or effort. Sure, I contributed to many of them, but they also required a lot of luck, happy accidents and coincidences, and forces outside of my control.

Recognizing this, I began to be willing to experiment with turning my troubles over to a force larger than myself. When held thrall in the throes of worry, I would remind myself that it wasn’t all up to me to make something happen.

I would recall all the help I’d ever gotten over the years and all the things that turned out well. I would think of all the things I was grateful for, most of which were out of my control, and then I would visualize placing my problem in the hands of a universe that had supported me so well up to that point.

And then I would do my best to let go and think about something else. (This is when meditation and other calming techniques worked really well.)

Much to my surprise, the world didn’t fall apart when I did this. In fact, the outcomes were often much better when I turned things over than when I tried to fix everything myself. Even better, the more I turned over, the calmer and freer I felt, and the more I began to trust.

Trust, it turns out, is the ultimate antidote to worry. And we don’t have to be born with it to use it—it’s possible to build trust in ourselves and the universe through practice, one worry at a time.
November 13, 2016
Sometimes You Just Need to Distance Yourself

November 12, 2016
A Small Positive Thought in the Morning

November 12, 2016
Get Better, Not Bitter

November 11, 2016
The Secret of a Long Life

November 11, 2016
9 Confidence Myths That Only Quiet People Will Truly Understand
“Quiet is the new loud.” ~Patrick Stump

Isn’t it ironic?

When you need it the most, your confidence is nowhere to be found.

When you’re freaking out at the thought of meeting new people, speaking up or going for that job interview, you’re only ally has gone AWOL.

And even though you’ve tried all the standard advice on how to be more confident, more self-assured, if you’re anything like I used to be, it’s left you even more anxious. Even less sure of yourself.

And all your efforts to be more confident have got you worrying that there’s actually something wrong with you.

Because the advice on building your confidence that works for others just doesn’t seem to work for you at all.

Take heart. There’s a really good reason it doesn’t work for you…

…you’re quiet.

Some people might say “introverted,” but labels are often only half the story. Simply put:
- Shouting above everyone else to be heard just isn’t your thing.
- A busy diary feels like you must have been a bad person in a former life.
- You love being social and then suddenly you want to be home. In pajamas.
- And alone time, well that’s level pegging with oxygen.
The rub is a lot of advice on how to be more confident works for a lot of people. It does make them appear more confident. And it can boost their own feelings of confidence.

But as a quiet person, trying to improve your self-confidence by following this type of advice, however good, can leave you less self-confident and more self-conscious than ever.

I know, I did just that…

“Who you are speaks so loudly I can’t hear what you’re saying.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

“All eyes on me, I can do this,” I mumbled inside. “Speak up girl, dammit.”

I seriously mis-sold myself at that interview. And every day that followed because of the persona I thought I needed to put across—a loud, forceful, heck aggressive if that’s what the situation needed, “Go get ‘em Laura.”

“Maybe I’ll grow into this louder me…please,” I stressed inside.

Instead, I became a caricature of my true, quiet self.

Colleagues that the authentic quiet me would have got on great with shied away from the person they saw me as. But equally I wasn’t comfortable with the people who liked the false loud me they saw and heard.

Pretending ate away my confidence and devoured my self-esteem.

And yeah, it got messy at work. And I left… quietly.

It’s a myth that there’s a one-size-fits-all answer to being more confident. We are all unique, with different stories and challenges, but there is some advice that directly conflicts with quiet tendencies.

So here are nine confidence myths that only quiet people will truly understand.

1. Speak louder.

To get on, you’ve got to speak up, get loud, right? Folk need to hear you over all the noise in today’s hyper-busy, hyper-competitive world. And they need to hear you fast.

But if you’re quiet, trying to speak louder feels uncomfortably rushed. I found I was consumed by the way I was saying my piece, not what I was saying.

Someone who speaks quietly, and only when they have something to say, can command greater attention than the loudest, most vocal person in the room.

Gandhi never raised his voice, and a whole nation heard him just fine.

2. Walk faster.

Walking faster makes it look like you’re filled with purpose, assured of your direction.

But for me, walking faster, well that just got me there too fast. I felt like I was hurrying, scrambling even. By forcing myself to quicken my pace, I set my quiet confidence running in the opposite direction.

Bottom line, I felt like I wasn’t in control.

Instead take your time. Taking things at your pace is a sure sign of a confident person.

After all, can you imagine the Dalai Lama rushing?

3. Be busy.

The idea of making yourself extra busy because it adds to the image of you being in demand, being successful, works for some.

But I found that there’s an extra, more troublesome dimension if you’re quiet. Making myself noticeably busier meant I had to engage with lots more people to attract more tasks. And ironically, I also had to say no more because soon I’d taken on way too much.

But worst of all, I was too busy doing everything badly, rather than one thing well. And quiet people like to do a good job. It’s a critical part of our confidence.

So rather than be the go-to guy or gal for any and every project, be known as the one to call on when the task needs care and attention.

4. Dress sharp.

The way we look can have a profound effect on our level of confidence, and dressing sharp seems good advice.

So I smothered my quiet tendencies and took the dress sharp class.

Oh boy! I felt like the Emperor and his new clothes. More self-conscious than if I’d been naked. I felt like my clothes were shouting “look at me!”

You don’t need to obsess over how you dress. Get your confidence from being your true self and knowing that long after they’ve forgotten what you looked like, they won’t have forgotten how you made them feel.

“I don’t want to be just known for the way I dress. I want to be known for how… I treat people” ~Rickie Fowler

5. Smile.

Smiling says I’m relaxed, confident, at ease with myself. And easily approachable.

Which is commendable.

But as a quiet person, sometimes I don’t want the whole world to approach me, to engage in conversation, to look for a deeper connection than maybe I want.

Unfortunately, by trying to wear a permanently over-enthusiastic smile, I gave out a confusing message to others about how involved I was comfortable being.

It’s better for your confidence to preserve your quiet space when you need it than wear a false “open all hours” smile.

6. Make and hold eye contact.

Winning the staring contest supposedly shows that you are confident, accessible with nothing to conceal.

So I gave the “hold eye contact” advice a really good shot.

So tiring! Embarrassing even. I felt like a weird stalker, hanging on every nuance of every word, yet ironically I heard nothing because my thoughts were totally taken up with winning the staring contest.

Sure, totally avoiding eye contact suggests that you’re either very shy or very guilty. But eye contact is way more intense than words will ever be. So if you’re a little reserved, holding someone’s gaze needs to be as natural as possible for your confidence to flourish.

7. Adopt power poses.

Similar to eye contact, your body says way more than your words. “Power poses” might include:
- the self-assured lean back in the chair
- the standing with legs shoulder-width apart, hands on your hips stance
- the steepling fingers together and resting elbows on the table
These can increase testosterone, which in turn increases confidence.

Now, even though I’m quiet it doesn’t mean I’m a mouse. I’ve given talks to groups of a dozen to several hundred. And I’ve tried those poses.

I felt like a second rate actor in a bad B-movie. One I wouldn’t have paid to watch. And the stress of trying to pose nearly killed me.

You see as a quiet person, the testosterone fueled confidence boost is more than likely to be offset by the extra increase in stress. Having to consciously adapt your body language can feel like a daunting performance.

Instead of trying to contort yourself into unnatural poses, boost your confidence by playing the only role you’ll ever win an Oscar for—you.

8. Shake hands firmly.

A first impression can be difficult to turn around. A firm grasp, two or three pumps up and down can persuade the other person you’re James Bond confident.

Unless of course you’re a quiet person. And then it’s likely to be quite the opposite. Sure, I shake hands, I’m British after all, but my consciously firm hand shaking attempts left me feeling pushy and competitive.

That’s not the way my confidence feels good on meeting new people.

Instead of forcing your handshake, offer the genuine quiet greeting your confidence is comfortable with and let the other person meet the real you first off.

9. Make physical contact.

A touch can say so much. It can be warm, assured, reassuring even, and can make you seem more confident.

And I was well aware of that, but every time I tried to pat someone on the back, or touch them on the shoulder, it felt more like I was taking a liberty than offering a friendly gesture. It felt way too intimate.

As a somewhat reserved person, gentle or friendly physical contact might be well intentioned but if it’s uninvited, that gentle tap can feel more of a Zap.

So instead of fake physical intimacy, let the authenticity of your personality affect them instead.

“Do not underestimate the determination of a quiet man.” ~Iain Duncan Smith

True, all our lives we’ve been shown that loud is better, that loud wins.

Which is why you hoped so hard that the good advice you tried was going to be the answer.

It’s still good advice… for anyone not like you.

But if you can stop seeing quiet as the chink in your armor of confidence, you’ll leap a thousand steps in being more self-assured.

Your own unique version of confidence is quiet. Quiet confidence.

Make peace with your quietness.

Because quiet confidence can conquer the world.

If it wants to.
November 10, 2016
When Negative Thoughts Pop into Your Head

November 10, 2016
The Goal Is to Die with Memories, Not Dreams

November 10, 2016
How to Rise Above Negative Comments About Your Body & What You Eat

“It’s also helpful to realize that this very body that we have, that’s sitting right here right now … with its aches and its pleasures … is exactly what we need to be fully human, fully awake, fully alive.” ~Pema Chodron

I took a photograph with my mom last night. She sighed when she saw the photo, saying she looked “so big.” My heart sank.

A few weeks ago, I was picking up sushi from the local supermarket with her, and she looked down at the to-go pack I was picking up and asked, “You’re really going to eat that? It has so many carbs.” Again, my heart sank.

These two little scenarios shed light light on why I had so many body image and food issues growing up as a kid. If your mom, your main symbol of how a female “should” be, is consumed with calorie counting and her weight, you’re going to have some degree of that too, at least in my experience.

More importantly, these scenarios showed me how far I’ve come. Because these things didn’t trigger me. Instead, they empowered me. Words like this now slide right off of me because of the strong relationship I now have with my body and food.

As much as I don’t want to admit this, talk like this used to infuriate me. I’d feel like part of my soul was burning up inside.

Now, I accept that that is how my mom is. Calorie counting works for her. It’s not my job to change that or her. It’s my job to practice acceptance and to choose to recognize that comments about weight and body image are coming from a place of insecurity within her, not me.

That being said, how do you deal with people who make comments about your food, your body, or your choices on what you eat? While there are no black and white, clear cut, yes and no rules, there are some things to remember and tools you can use to help you stay grounded, centered, and most importantly, calm.

I’ve discovered the more you do this work, the easier it becomes. Like all good things that last, it takes practice and dedication.

Here are eight ways to rise above negative comments about your body and food.

1. Don’t take things personally.

We constantly need to remind ourselves of this, because when people make comments about us (in even the slightest negative context), it’s hard to not take them personally. But know that their comments about you show more about them.

People who are truly happy with themselves (or the area of life they’re commenting on) don’t try to bring others down. Instead, truly happy people do the exact opposite—they’ll try to lift you up.

People who are happy with themselves aren’t jealous or worried that there will be less for them, and they don’t make hurtful comments. No. Truly happy people are present and there for you, rooting you on. If they’re not, it’s a sign that your action, statement, thought, feeling, belief, or appearance, triggered a wound within them that needs some healing.

2. Use people as a mirror.

In that same context, watch when you get triggered. Triggers are strong emotional reactions to people, words, and situations. When someone’s words trigger you, don’t beat yourself up for reacting. Instead, use the person as a mirror for yourself and allow yourself to look within and investigate why you were triggered.

If you do this when people make negative comments about your body or food, you’ll take the anger and emphasis off of them and put the focus back onto the only person’s reaction you can control—your own.

This is what will further your personal development and self-love journey more than anything else. Even if you come up with no answers here, simply digging deep and exploring these emotions will allow you to expand your perspective. And it will provide insights on why you feel how you feel and what changes you need to make in your life, propelling you forward.

3. Express how you feel.

In all honesty, we can’t get upset with someone until we voice our feelings and tell them that what they’re doing or saying is upsetting us. Once you do this, it’s important to set boundaries (more on this below).

There are so many times when people think their comments about your body, your diet, or your food choices are “helpful,” “inspiring,” or they’re just “trying to tell you what worked for them.” Whether or not something is helping in your journey, is your decision, not theirs. Let them know.

4. Set boundaries.

We teach people how to treat us. So if you never tell your friends, family members, or partner that commenting about your body or food in a certain way isn’t acceptable, they might continue to do it. Stand up for yourself. Often, what we think people should know, or people should be able to tell, they can’t. Tell them and teach them how to talk to you.

An example: “When you’re always making comments on my weight I feel like I’m not good enough and that you don’t actually want me in your life. Can you please no longer bring it up unless I do?”

Notice that you’re stating the action that bothers you, stating how it makes you feel, and then asking for what you need.

If you begin to speak your truth and notice things aren’t changing, set boundaries with your time and how and with whom you spend it. You should spend time with people who generally make you feel good and who push you to grow in a positive way. If not, it’s time to reevaluate. And know that that’s okay!

Not everyone is meant to be in our lives forever. Usually, once the growth period is over in any relationship, it’s time to move on.

5. Have a grounding practice.

When you begin speaking up for yourself it’s easy to get overwhelmed. So it’s important to find an activity that works for you that makes you feel calm, connected with yourself, and peaceful.

There are many ways to do this: hiking, journaling, walking, meditating, painting, reading, exercising, singing, writing, deep breathing. The trick is to find what works for you, and once you do, to use it to bring you back to center when the chatter from others becomes too much.

6. Reflect on your progress.

If you’re receiving negative comments about your body, food, or weight, it’s hard to recognize all the good you’re doing. As human beings, especially sensitive ones, it’s super easy for us to reflect on everything we’re not and to let the negative talk (others and our own) consume us.

Rise above this by making the time to reflect on your progress, how far you’ve come, and the amazing work that you’re doing right now to move forward along your journey.

Keep a notebook and every day, write down three things about yourself or your choices that you’re proud of. Try it. It’s a serious life-changer. It’ll help you refocus your energy on the good.

7. Practice radical acceptance (and don’t wait on the apology).

This one is hard, but possibly the most rewarding. When you begin to not take others’ comments personally and accept them as who they are, it will change your world.

You’re not trying to change them. You’re not trying to get them to see things a different way (this can be exhausting, especially when someone isn’t ready). You’re not trying to get them to apologize. Instead, you see them as who they are—working (or not working) through their own stuff—and you accept that.

This may translate into you seeing them less, setting more boundaries, or expressing how you feel in a loving way. But at the end of the day, you see them, you accept where they’re at, and you choose your actions accordingly.

8. Don’t wait on your weight, regardless, of what anyone says.

For years I thought I wasn’t lovable or good enough unless I looked a certain way. This couldn’t be more wrong. Don’t you wait on your weight to do the things you want to do too! That chatter inside your mind is only your fear holding you back. And part of that fear of not feeling good enough comes from others who don’t feel good enough themselves.

I’ve found it’s never really our bodies that hold us back; it’s our fear. Move through the fear and do “the thing” anyway. When you do this, what you find may very well surprise you—you’ll begin to break through your own body jail you’ve put yourself in and start living your life.

And at the end of the day, your body is here to help you live the life you really want. Use your body to do what it’s intended to do—to help you live. And along the way, take care and speak kindly to it. Your body deserves that.

November 9, 2016
What Can Control and What We Cannot

November 9, 2016
Sometimes Your Circle Decreases in Size but Increases in Value

November 9, 2016
5 Things You Need to Tell Yourself After a Painful Breakup

Have you ever experienced a breakup or divorce but still loved the other person you were saying goodbye to?

I met my ex-girlfriend on a rooftop in Istanbul. I had just sold everything I owned to travel the world, and she was a tour leader in Asia.

She was everything I had been searching for: beautiful, confident, and funny. I followed her to India and China. She followed me to Australia. When the money and visas ran out, we moved back to Canada, found an apartment, got a cat, and shared a strong, healthy relationship for over five years.

And then, just like that, it was over.

There was no huge fight, yelling, or name-calling. It was just an honest discussion about the direction we saw ourselves going into the future. Unfortunately, our visions didn’t align. So we had to ask the tough questions:

Do we stick it out and hope that things fall into place?

Or do we part ways?

We chose the latter, and it was one of the hardest decisions either of us had ever made.

What followed was a month of living in the same apartment until we settled logistics like finding a new place to live, selling the car, and deciding who would keep the cat. We slept in separate beds. We talked, cooked, and went out to our favorite restaurants. We still loved each other but that only served to make our decision even tougher.

I struggled a lot. I couldn’t bring myself to write or work on my business. I shut down. I drank and smoked too much. I cried in the shower. I second-guessed our decision constantly.

But we stuck with it. I figured I had two choices: stay sad and depressed or put my head down and start moving forward. I chose to move forward. And here’s what I told myself to help get me going in the right direction.

Time Doesn’t Heal

“I realized, it is not the time that heals, but what we do within that time that creates positive change.” ~Diane Dettman

During my breakup, friends and family loved to throw out the often used cliche “Don’t worry, time heals.”

But guess what? Time doesn’t heal. It’s only an excuse people use to justify sitting around in their pajamas watching Netflix and eating ice cream out of the bucket with a side of red wine.

Sure, if you wait long enough, perhaps time will heal. But how much of your life are you willing to sacrifice to get there? Six months? A year? Ten years?

We have one precious life on this little blue planet, with no guarantees of an afterlife. It’s a waste to believe that time will magically heal our sorrows.

It’s easy to stay stuck in sadness and depression; it’s hard to move on from someone we still love. But you have to do it. You have to take action because life isn’t going to wait for you.

Get rid of the notion that time will heal because it’s not going to help you get where you need to go. Instead, do something. Get out of your house and meet new people. Take up a hobby you’ve been putting off. Train for a marathon. Start doing yoga. Do anything. Just don’t wait for time to heal your pain.

Love Isn’t Always Enough

Friends and family couldn’t wrap their heads around my breakup. “If you still love each other, can’t you make it work?” they would ask.

We grow up with a belief that love can overcome any obstacle. I blame the likes of Harry and Sally, Edward and Vivian, and Sam and Annie. Romantic movies always end happily because love conquers all.

But real life isn’t so simple.

My ex and I still love each other, but we both understand it’s not enough. There were fundamental things about our visions of the future that didn’t line up. Take having children, for example. If one person wants kids and the other doesn’t, that is a fundamental difference that cannot be changed. Sure, nobody knows how the future will pan out, but it’s not fair to “settle” for the sake of love. Otherwise, there will be regret and resentment later on in the relationship.

Things like the decision of having children, the city you want to live in, or your core values are fundamental parts of a relationship. If the fundamentals don’t align the relationship could be doomed, and you could be delaying the inevitable until one day you really do have a yelling match and break up in anger.

My ex and I decided that we didn’t want to get to that point even though we still loved each other. We ended our relationship amiably before resentment and regret reared their ugly heads.

So remember: love is wonderful, beautiful, and fulfilling. But it’s not always enough.

Grieve, But Not Too Much

It’s important to grieve our losses. Whether it’s the loss of a relationship, loved one, job, or whatever, we need to take time to be sad. We need to get in touch with our feelings and understand what we’re feeling. Labeling and being aware of our feelings is imperative in every area of life. So when you’re sad, be sad.

Like I said earlier, I grieved in an unhealthy way. But at the time it felt good to numb the pain. I recognized what I was doing. I knew it wasn’t the best way. Still, I did it.

And I’m happy I did. After a month of unhealthy grieving I was done with it. My productivity hit rock-bottom and I couldn’t stand it anymore.

There are many ways to deal with grief.

For me, I needed to start creating and writing again. I needed to travel, explore, and have adventures. I needed to connect with other people who had similar experiences to help me realize that I wasn’t alone in my pain.

So go ahead. Grieve.

Just don’t do it for too long or you might find yourself grieving for a long, long time.

Don’t Do It All On Your Own

A friend of mine sent me a blunt text message:

“Stop drinking wine, sobbing with your ex, and move on with your life. You have a goal. Now get off your ass and make it happen.”

Bang! We all need friends like that from time to time. We can’t do it all on our own, no matter who we are or who we’ve been in the past.

My friend reminded me of the importance of keeping my friends and family close. Sometimes in relationships we become so enamored in our romantic partners that we neglect our relationships with friends and family.

But when a relationship with a lover ends, who is going to be there to catch you when you fall? Who’s going to give you a listening ear, shoulder to cry on, or tough love?

We can’t get through loss by ourselves. We need others to prop us up and push us forward.

Keep your friends and family close, all the time, because some day you will need their love.

No Matter What, It Was Not a Waste of Time

It’s too easy to look back on a “failed” relationship as a waste. “Well, there goes five years of my life!” If you’re getting out of a long-term relationship it’s something that crosses your mind.

But think back on the person you were when you first got into your relationship compared to the person you are today. Chances are you’re a different person, for the better. You’ve lived, loved, and most importantly, learned.

Don’t look at it with the mindset that you have to start over again. You’re not starting over because you’ve grown, matured, and become a better person during your relationship.

For me, I learned how to communicate better—skills that will continue to serve me moving forward. I learned to speak French, lived in a new city, and made a career transition. I met awesome people. I took swing dancing lessons and learned about French Canadian culture. All these things happened because of my ex-girlfriend.

It’s easy to look back on a broken relationship as a waste of time, but when you really start to think about it you’ll realize that it’s anything but a waste.

—

If you’ve recently experienced a painful breakup or divorce, I’m sorry. I feel your pain. I know what you’re going through isn’t easy.

Spend time reflecting and getting in touch with your feelings. Grieve. Be sad. Cry. Talk about it. Cry some more.

Then move on.

Sounds over-simplified, I know. But ultimately, being stuck in a rut is a choice.

If your choice is to move forward I hope you do so with more confidence, purpose, and authenticity. I hope you’re able to tell yourself some of the things I’ve mentioned above.

Live. Thrive. Life is short so make the best of it.

November 8, 2016
It’s Not Too Late

November 8, 2016
Don’t Change Yourself to Win Someone’s Heart

November 8, 2016
Less Judgment, More Love

November 7, 2016
Do the Best You Can

November 7, 2016
5 Easy, Natural Ways to Reduce Stress

“It’s all about finding the calm in the chaos.” ~Donna Karan

Like my grandfather, I have always been a weather geek. I check the weather news daily and, for as long as I can remember, thunderstorms, warm/cold fronts, and clouds have fascinated me.

Close friends of mine will be the first to tell you that I have the bad habit of stopping someone mid-sentence to point out cirrus clouds, or a storm on the horizon.

But it’s more than just a nerdy interest. Looking at thunderstorms and clouds has always had a calming effect on me.

A few years ago I spent a summer in Edmonton, Canada, on my first extended work assignment abroad. It started well, but after a month I began receiving negative feedback from my client on the quality of work that I was submitting. Looking back, I realize there were power struggles going on in the background, and I was the scapegoat stuck in the middle.

But at the time it caused me a lot of stress, and each negative comment made me feel more and more like a failure.

At the end of one rough day in particular, I received another critical email from my client. On the drive home from the office I could feel my heart accelerating and hammers bashing on my forehead, signaling the onset of a stress-induced migraine.

My apartment sat high on a hill, and when I arrived home I happened to catch a glimpse of the outside view from the corner of my eye.

An enormous thunderstorm dominated the horizon; turbulent masses of air and water billowed high into the sky. The sunset was hitting the tops of the clouds at an angle that made the storm look like it was on fire. Hues of orange, red, and deep gray swirled into each other.

I was intrigued and stepped outside on my balcony to take a better look. I sat down on a chair and stayed there for at least an hour, watching churning clouds climb through the atmosphere and streaks of lightning flash through the flaming vapors.

As I sat there, with my eyes fixed on the spectacle before me, my heart rate and breathing slowed down, and the pounding in my head abated.

I knew that everything I was going through would pass and I felt at peace.

We all experience stress at one point. And because we have busy lives, we don’t always have the time to go running, or do yoga, or watch a funny movie to get rid of it.

Practicing mindfulness can be an effective alternative though. This pulls us into the present moment and can reduce our stress with minimal time and effort. Five ways we can use our surroundings to do this are to:

1. Sit quietly by a body of water.

Since mankind first came into existence, humans have used the calming effects of water to find peace. If you are stressed, find a river, a pond, an ocean—any body of water will do the trick. Try sitting next to the water and notice what your five senses are registering.

Listen to the sounds of the waves or the soft gurgles of the streaming water. Watch how the wind dances across the water, changing its surface into different shades of blue. Feel the wind on your face.

You might find that the cool water is able to carry your problems away with it.

2. Surround yourself with plants.

Another option for us is to spend a quiet moment in a green environment, whether it’s a park, a forest, a field, or our own backyard.

Use your senses and concentrate on how the sun feels on your face, or the ground underneath you. Smell the grass and plants. Listen to the birds and watch the various insects and other creatures go about their daily activities.

Surrounding ourselves with trees and grass can have a positive effect on our well-being by removing us from stressful urban environments. This gives us a chance to take deep breaths, reset our attention, and focus on the most important parts of our lives.

3. Look at the sky.

If you don’t have the time to find trees and water, just look up at the sky, wherever you happen to be. I’ve always loved watching thunderstorms, but the sky offers countless opportunities for us to sit back and take our minds off of our problems.

Spotting funny shapes in clouds is useful for expanding our own creativity. A good sunset, on the other hand, with its wide spectrum of colors, helps us appreciate the beauty of the world, even if we’ve had an awful day.

And at night the sky is lit up with the soft glow of the moon and the stars. These remind us that, in the grand scheme of things, our troubles are often a lot smaller than they feel at that particular moment.

4. Observe the people next to you.

Observing the people around us, however, can also be an effective method to take our minds off of a stressful situation.

I often use this technique in airports. It’s hilarious to watch parents try and corral their small children, who are always on a mission to explore every square inch of the terminal.

Or sometimes I pick a person walking by and create a backstory for them in my head. For example, I might imagine who they are, where they are from, and why they are in the airport at that moment.

It sounds strange, and it’s not the same as being in nature, but at least it can be entertaining and help us to think about something else.

5. Focus on the outside world.

When we are stuck in the office though, sometimes the best method for us is to spend a moment quietly observing the world outside of our windows. If you can see water, or trees, these can offer similar benefits as being in nature.

If you are in a high-rise building, and are surrounded by concrete and glass, try observing whatever is outside. Watch the cars driving by, the flashing lights of the billboards, or the people scurrying to and from work. This gives our brains a break and reminds us that we are not alone in our struggles.

—

Stress can come at inconvenient moments when we are unable to devote much time and energy to mitigate it. Using mindfulness to observe the world around us, even if only for a minute or two, can have immediate positive effects. .

It’s simple and free, so why not give it a try?

November 6, 2016
Be Strong Enough to Stand Alone

November 6, 2016
You Can’t Change Yesterday

November 6, 2016