
Tag: wisdom
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Life Is a Cycle of Happiness, Sadness, Clarity, and Confusion

“Life is a cycle, always in motion. If good times have moved on, so will times of trouble.” ~Indian Proverb
Two years ago I went on a volunteer trip to Vietnam, where I had hoped to find both myself and my purpose (ambitious), but instead found a rocky adventure that continues to teach me things to this day.
I was in the middle of a difficult time that was secretly a rebirth. It’s always hard to see that when it’s happening, isn’t it?
For a few amazing months, everything made crystal clear sense, and I felt like I could see through all realms of existence to the truth. I started listening to my body and my spirit rather than my brain. Life opened up to me.
I uncovered a deep interest in the healing power of art, especially dance and movement. I realized said interest was embedded in who I’ve been all along, I just had to take a minute to listen and let it show itself.
I have been a dancer all of my life, and somewhere along the way forgot that the reason I started dancing was because it allowed for joyful, authentic expression.
Three-year-old Laura knew that. I got older and forgot—I got wrapped up in doing, in trying to be the best, in comparing myself to others, in pushing myself and my body beyond what was loving.
I believe art is essentially a spiritual practice—any art. But, being humans (oh, humans), it’s easy to get wrapped up in the more worldly aspects of art. I’m talking recognition, fame, money, perfection, applause, all that.
That’s cool, it happens. But what my soul really wanted to do was dance and sing around my apartment and figure out how my body wanted to move when it wasn’t being told what was “good” and what was “bad.”
I could go on forever about this. I’ll spare you. But I implore you, make your art. Just make it, simply because it allows you to express who you are.
You don’t have to make a big stink out of it with performances and shows. You can if that feels right. But if you don’t want to show your art to anyone and want to just create for the sake of creating, that has enormous value and is, indeed, enough.
I started doing dance improvisations in my apartment regularly. I began going to auditions less and going to Central Park to be with nature and read about healing arts more.
I have practiced Pilates for years to take care of dance-related injuries, and a little voice inside said, “Hey, what about teaching Pilates?”
I said, “Alright, what the heck, let’s see.”
I started my certification off with a full scholarship to a mat training program at a studio that welcomed me with open arms. If that’s not a nudge toward something, I don’t know what is.
I met an amazing man approximately five days after declaring, “Okay, Laura! We are not worrying about men anymore! I am going to focus on what I am doing, and worry about that later.”
Before meeting him, I told him flat out, “I’m not looking for a boyfriend right now,” and of course, that’s when your person waltzes right into your life. Our first year together flew by.
I felt my heart opening up. I felt like I was expanding and moving into a different time of my life, a more authentic expression of who I am. I honored my intuition as best as I could, and it served me well. I was crazy happy. Like, hard to sleep happy.
I remembered that I had options and choices—what an incredible blessing. I did not have to keep doing the same thing I had been pursuing for years. I was free to let other, unexplored parts of myself out into the world. This was exciting and relieving.
I simultaneously felt like I had control and that, in fact, I didn’t need to have control, because reality was showing me the way.
I even went to Vietnam a second time and visited the same village I taught in the year before. This time I had a cute and supportive travel companion, as well as a heck of a lot of perspective. I felt like a different version of myself, although essentially the same. (I still got hangry and coped pretty badly with jet lag…)
And then, you know what happened? I got kind of confused again. A few months after the clarity burst, I started questioning again: “What am I doing? What should I do?” And then things were clear again. And then I was confused. And on and on. Sometimes life felt magical and sometimes it didn’t,
Sometimes things make sense and then they don’t make sense again. It’s a spiral.
We circle around to similar lessons, feelings, and challenges, but we experience them at different levels of awareness. And we keep hitting the same challenges until we learn the lessons we need to in order to let go and grow. At least, that’s how it seems to me.
And it also seems that we can learn a lesson, let something go, and then later on forget we learned the lesson and need to do it again. You know what I mean?
For my twenty-seventh birthday in June, I went out of my comfort zone to a hippie farm up in the Berkshires. I’m talking barefoot, vegan, everyone dancing all the time in the grass. It was pretty amazing, but for this city girl, at first it was a lot.
I spent the week on retreat working through Anna Halprin’s life/art healing process. A year before, I read (more like devoured) her book Dance as a Healing Art during my daily trips to Central Park.
The book was one of the first I read during my period of magic. It was very cool to be in the mountains a year later doing the work myself. We danced, wrote, sang, drew, cried, laughed, and supported each other through our individual journeys of self-discovery and healing.
I met some amazing people that I felt deep connections with very quickly. I was skeptical at first, but I did my best to trust the process, and the results were pretty astounding.
One of the last days of the workshop was my actual birthday. I gathered the resources I had created over the week—my writing, drawings, notes, and dances—and saw a message in all of them.
Ultimately, what my heart was saying was “Go deep into yourself and just be.” That was an interesting message, because I came there looking for answers about what to do.
For a week after that workshop was over, I felt like I had expanded, just as I had felt the year before when all the magic was happening, but this time on a deeper level. I felt like I was high. (I wasn’t, I swear).
I felt so secure, so calm, so content just to be—happy sipping tea with my man across from me, happy walking through trees in the rain, happy watching the sky. It was one of the most profound experiences I have ever had, and it all came from being.
Since I’ve been back, I’ve settled back into my humanity, meaning, sometimes I feel grounded and free and other times I feel confused and irritable. I’m getting the impression that this cycle is kind of the way it is, and part of the human experience. Perhaps the cycle is the human experience.
We are in constant motion and everything changes, but this doesn’t have to be scary (even though it is).
Actually, it can be amazingly freeing, because in moments of loneliness or confusion, you can trust that there will also be moments of deep love, connection, and clarity.
Dance the dance, sing the song, write the story, draw the shapes, and embody who you are.
One of my all time favorite quotes is “Joy is the other side of sadness,” which I heard Sharon Salzberg say at Tibet House in NYC almost ten years ago, when I first discovered meditation.
I say this frequently to people who feel guilty or worried about not feeling happy. Joy is not just feeling happy and clear. Joy is also feeling sad and confused with an open heart.
Perhaps the universe lines things up for you in lightening moments of clarity as encouragement, a gesture of unconditional love. But then it pulls away and leaves you to navigate on your own, to wrestle with the uncertainties and take leaps of faith into unchartered territory.
Discovery isn’t nearly as rewarding, beautiful, and profound if you know the exact path to getting there. Up and down, round and round, we keep going, getting closer and closer to who we are.
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Healing After an Affair: How to Get Through the Pain of Infidelity

“I will breathe. I will think of solutions, I will not let my worry control me. I will not let my stress level break me. I will simply breathe. And it will be okay. Because I don’t quit.” ~Shayne McClendon
It was a Wednesday afternoon in late July, and I felt like my entire world was coming to an end. My husband of almost eleven years had become distant, and during a phone call on my lunch break he told me he couldn’t do this anymore. That evening he told me he no longer loved me and wanted a divorce.
It wasn’t until several weeks later that I learned about another woman and reached a low I never thought possible. What just happened to my life? Just a few short weeks ago I was laughing, smiling, and enjoying my life to the fullest. Now I could barely get out of bed.
I spent the next several months feeling like I had no control over my own emotions.
I’d see pictures in our home where he no longer lived and break down sobbing.
I’d hear songs while driving and literally have to pull over until I could pull myself together.
I’d hide in my room for hours at a time so our children didn’t see mommy crying.
I wasn’t eating, I wasn’t sleeping, my work was suffering, and I was barely making it through my day. I wanted to make this pain stop, to sleep until I figured out that this was all a bad dream. It never happened.
I had to face the fact no matter how much I wanted it to change, the facts were the facts: My husband was having an affair and I had no idea what to do.
I had spent my whole life saying if I were ever cheated on, I just kick him to the curb and never look back. So why was I feeling like I didn’t want my marriage to end? No one ever tells you that this conflict might come up, and no one tells you this is completely normal.
I began reading everything I could find. I was desperately trying to make sense of a situation that made absolutely no sense to me.
We were happy. We were the couple everyone wanted to be. I beat myself up wondering how I missed this coming. I wondered why I even cared, and why I would want to save a relationship that was causing me so much pain.
Was I so selfish that I never saw how unhappy he was? Could I have prevented it from happening? How was I going to become a single mom? How were our kids going to get through this? And the biggest question: Am I going to just give up without a fight?
That question changed everything for me. I decided, right then and there, that I would not just give up.
I was a fighter, and no matter the outcome, I would give my all. While I knew I couldn’t make any choices for him, I also knew I couldn’t live with just giving up on him and my family. This man I knew and loved for so long had to be hurting too.
The information about affairs online is absolutely overwhelming. My search engine became my best friend. As the questions came, I would type them in and search through the thousands of articles for hours and hours. Below are the top ten things that would ultimately give me back control over my own life.
1. Stop and breathe.
It sounds so simple, yet when you feel like you’ve just been punched in the gut, breathing can seem like the hardest thing in the world to do.
When strong emotions came up, I learned to count backwards from a hundred by threes. A hundred (big breath in through the nose), ninety-seven (exhale through the mouth), ninety-four (big breath in through the nose). Counting by threes forces your brain to focus on something other than the intruding thoughts and worries.
I did this a lot of this throughout the days to come. After a while, I finally felt as though I could control my own breathing no matter what was happening around me. At a time when I felt as if I had no control over anything, I finally discovered that I could control something: I could control myself.
2. Start writing.
Get a pen and paper, grab your computer, or put a journal app on your phone. Whatever works best for you, just start doing it. There is something about writing down whatever you are feeling that allows you to release some of the emotion behind it.
In the beginning I felt like I didn’t have the energy to do this. Once I started writing, I realized how much of my energy I could get back by releasing some of the pain I was feeling.
3. Eat.
I literally stopped eating. The thought of food made me sick to my stomach. I had no energy and dropped an entire pant size in two short weeks.
Eat anything. Soup and watermelon became my lifeline. Make it simple, make it nutritious, but make it happen.
You need your energy to get through this, and I promise, you will get through this. I began to notice that when my body was getting the nutrition it needed, I was able to think more clearly and sleep more soundly, which leads me to the next tip.
4. Sleep.
Maybe you’re like me. All you want to do is sleep, yet when it comes time to go to bed you are haunted by thoughts and emotions you never knew existed. For me, going to bed was just a reminder that my husband was not there. We used to cuddle every night before falling asleep, and suddenly I was left with an empty bed.
I learned about guided meditation and would use it to drift off to sleep. If I awoke in the middle of the night, I stopped fighting it, got up, and wrote, and allowed myself to cry. I would write and cry for hours until I had nothing left to say or feel and drifted back to sleep.
5. Talk.
I never realized how creative my brain was and how many false ideas and images it could conjure up on its own. We want to believe we know what is happening, and when we don’t, our brains create some pretty convincing visuals.
Find someone, anyone that you can talk to. Make your intentions clear. I wanted to save my marriage. I didn’t want people telling me to forget about him, that I deserve better, to just move on. So I stopped talking to anyone.
When we only have our own voice, we have no choice but to believe all the lies we tell ourselves. I would tell myself I must not be good enough, I must have been doing something wrong, maybe I’m not pretty enough, smart enough. The list is endless. We need our people now more than ever.
I needed someone who could ground me when my brain was running wild. Whether that’s a friend, coach, therapist, or family member, just find someone you can talk openly with. Find someone who will listen without judgment.
6. Get active.
Maybe you already exercise daily, and that is great. I never exercised, ever. I hated it and I still do. But during this time I found the value in it.
Yoga was easy and relaxing, and so was walking. I realized that it gave me some me time. It allowed space to clear my head if only for a few minutes, and those minutes were glorious. It didn’t always work. Some days I just couldn’t clear my head, and I learned that is okay too.
I learned how to give myself grace. I learned that there is no perfect way to do or get through this. Just take one step at a time, keep putting one foot in front of the other, and don’t stop trying.
7. Know that whatever you are feeling is normal.
You will experience a rollercoaster of emotions that you never thought were possible. How can you possibly love and hate someone so much at the same time? How can you go from laughing to crying in a matter of seconds?
You may feel embarrassment, shame, guilt, love, hope, and everything in between. The rollercoaster is real, and you know what, it is completely normal. This realization was one of the most freeing.
No matter how you are feeling at this very moment, it will change, I promise. No matter what you are feeling, it’s normal. There is no right or wrong way to feel with this, it just is. It is just how you are feeling right now, and that’s okay.
8. Know that this has nothing to do with you.
It was all too easy for me to blame myself. It was my fault that he no longer loved me. I would learn that this never had anything to do with me.
I did not make these choices for him. I did not do anything to cause him to make these choices. He didn’t ask me ahead of time. He didn’t even tell me that he was unhappy. These were choices that he made completely on his own.
He was suffering, and when someone else boosted his self-esteem, he latched on as if it were his only lifeline. He didn’t realize how much he had been hurting over the years. All he knew was that he wanted to feel good, and because he didn’t know why hadn’t felt good before, he blamed me for his years of misery.
He eventually learned that it was never about me. He learned that no matter how far he ran, he couldn’t out run his own demons.
I later learned that while we can all work to improve how we show up in our relationships, nothing we are doing or not doing excuses an affair. However, since I wanted to save my marriage, I had to take a long hard look at myself and see where I could show up better in my marriage.
I learned how to be a better listener. I learned how to be more compassionate and understanding when my husband was going through a difficult time. I learned the art of patience. And I learned what unconditional love really means.
9. Make time for you.
What did you enjoy doing before you were a couple? What hobbies or activities do you have on your own? If you don’t have any now is a great time to find one.
Look at what is being offered in your community. Look at local schools. Did you always want to learn to cook? Take a cooking class. How about sewing, yoga, finances, painting, or computers? Take a class. Whatever it is for you, find something. Find something you can do at least one night a week and commit to it.
Sometimes in marriage we forget who we are as an individual. Now is the time to rediscover that person. The added bonus to this if you are looking to save your marriage is that your spouse fell in love with who you were as an individual. Bringing that person back can be eye opening for the one who left.
10. Give it time.
Last, but definitely not least, know that this will take time. Research shows it takes an average two years to heal from the pain of an affair. I hated this advice in the beginning because I wanted to feel better right then. But time has helped me realize that it really is the best medicine.
Right now all you can do is decide how you will spend that time. You can fight to find the blessings in disguise and learn and grow, or you can choose to become bitter and allow yourself to remain the victim of the cards that were dealt to you.
I choose to fight, I choose to learn, I choose to grow.
Change and healing didn’t happen overnight. Both my husband and I had to put in a lot of hard work. We read and listened to more information than I ever thought possible. We sought out therapy as a couple and as individuals to heal our past hurts and coaching to help move us in the direction we wanted to go.
Ultimately, we learned that our communication had to improve. He needed to be able to communicate when he was upset about things, and I needed to be able to receive this information without becoming confrontational or defensive. His openness and honesty allowed us to begin our healing process and start restoring trust in our relationship.
One day it dawned on me that I hadn’t thought about the affair at all for several days. I wept as I realized I had my life back, only it wasn’t the life I had thought I wanted a few years ago. It was a life that had become better than anything I could have ever imagined.
Three short years later and both my husband and I will tell you we are happier than we have ever been. Our marriage is stronger than it ever was. Our connection is greater and our communication is better.
Looking back on that day when I thought my life was coming to an end I now smile, realizing that for us, it was the start of a new beginning. While I never wish the pain we endured on anyone, I have learned that sometimes the greatest pain brings us the greatest blessings.
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How We Avoid Our Feelings and How Embracing Them Sets Us Free

“We numb our minds and heart so one need not be broken and the other need not be bothered.” ~Peggy Haymes
Feelings are important, no doubt about it. They communicate all sorts of information to us. I don’t know about you, but I’ve preferred to ignore some of that information. Raise your hand if you would much rather feel the good feelings and just jump right over the not so good ones.
Okay, so it’s unanimous. We all prefer the good, happy feelings. I expect we are all experts at finding ways to avoid the uncomfortable ones. But maybe we can share some avoidance techniques and try something new.
I like to eat. Food has been synonymous with love in my world. It comforts… until it doesn’t, right? Alcohol? Well, thank heaven I was spared addiction, because, but for the grace of God, there go I.
Running and exercise were at least a healthier alternative to dealing with my feelings, and I did feel a little better about myself, so that was justifiable, I’m sure. Oh, and let’s not forget a good movie, or even a bad one is a great distractor. Binge watching is even better.
So, let’s add to the list. What do you do to avoid those uncomfortable feelings? Just take a minute to think about it. What are your avoidance techniques? Okay, time is up.
Do you shop for stuff you do not need?
Are you constantly on the go?
Do you peruse social media incessantly, call or text anyone available?
Do you eat, drink, and be merry?
Spend more time with Match.com than you do with yourself?
Do you clean your house, obsessively making sure everything is in its place?
Lose yourself in a book?
Surround yourself with so much chaos that you can hardly hear yourself think?
Or maybe you avoid certain places or people or being alone.
Do you work long hours?
Get a front row seat into the life of someone that appears messier than you?
The list could go on and on. So, pick your favorites and have at it.
But before you do, I have to tell you that, in hindsight, I was one of the lucky ones.
I was lucky because I could not keep avoiding those uncomfortable feelings, no matter how hard I tried or what avoidance technique I used. They were like a bad penny that kept showing up.
If you want to know how that made me lucky, read on. If you prefer to just add some avoidance techniques to what you are already doing, then you can stop reading now.
So, why was I lucky?
Because, you see, my feelings ended up being my North Star to the life I wanted.
First, some education: Feelings, and the emotions that go with them, like absolutely everything else in life, are energy. Energy, by its very nature, has to keep moving. Unfortunately, too many of us learned, at a rather young age, to stuff feelings down deep. Until expressed, those feelings still live on in our bodies.
We often stuff them so deeply that we don’t necessarily know they exist, unless we are paying attention. Whether you recognize it or not, I assure you those feelings are still having a profound impact on your life. They follow you around in your relationships and in your interactions with yourself and others.
Your feelings don’t keep you from being all that you can be. They don’t keep you from getting what you want. Your avoidance of them does.
They show up in the tweak you feel inside when someone says something you don’t like. Or when the voice in your head is saying something different from what is actually coming out of your mouth.
Maybe they make themselves known when you are driving in traffic or when your child is not obedient.
How about when your spouse doesn’t help around the house the way you want or when your friends let you down?
Maybe it shows up in the jealousy or envy you feel for others.
And let’s not forget the way we tolerate inappropriate behaviors from others.
The invitation can be subtle. Listen for it. Watch for it. It is always beckoning.
Feelings left unresolved in our bodies result in dis-ease—mental, physical, and spiritual.
At some point in my life, despite running, literally and figuratively, the feelings I was trying so desperately to avoid caught up with me.
I had been running from feelings left over from childhood. I was angry. I was sad. I felt unloved. My self-worth was in the toilet. I tried not to notice.
Having never learned my value, I unknowingly invited further abuse in my twenties. Running helped me deal with the emotional energy and irritability without my processing the feelings in ways that would permit resolution. In fact, I did not know feelings could be resolved. I thought, “I guess I will always feel this way.” I was wrong. Thank God I was wrong!
So now, like one of those 5k races, I had run out of steam and I could not outrun my pursuer. So, unable to avoid any longer, I instead began to befriend those difficult feelings. Admittedly, I begrudgingly befriended those feelings, but befriend them I did.
And I am forever grateful for having done so.
I learned to be present to my own pain.
Life is a mix of the good, the bad, and the ugly. Many of us have experienced some degree of childhood abuse, bullying, neglect, or trauma. The truth is, even in the best of circumstances, we have painful experiences and loss.
As kids we were powerless. We were dependent on the adults in our lives, unable to fend for ourselves. That left us pretty vulnerable to our environment. As kids we were also pretty ingenious, finding phenomenal ways to defend against situations and feelings we could not handle.
I became an extension of my dad, trying to be as agreeable and as like him as possible. If Dad was happy, I was better off.
The problem is, I became the agreeable one in my adult relationships, denying the essence of who I was. I was taking care of the people around me better than I was taking care of myself. I hid who I was assuming it was not acceptable, since in childhood, it was not. What worked in helping me survive childhood ceased to serve its purpose in my adult relationships.
In fact, those survival skills impede us from being whole, accomplishing our dreams, and having the healthy, intimate relationships we actually want. Unresolved feelings can leave us feeling depressed, anxious, physically sick, and any other number of symptoms. I had them all.
I remember sitting in my family room one day, thinking. I probably don’t have to tell you how dangerous thinking can be! It’s one of the things we are often trying to avoid. I sure was. The next thing I knew, I was wiping down an already clean kitchen counter. As I regained consciousness from my obvious lapse, a light bulb came on.
I realized that I did not like what I was thinking about, because it made me feel something I had no interest in feeling.
Without any conscious awareness, I had gotten up and moved to the kitchen. Now, having woken up from my sleepwalking, I said to myself, “I keep moving to avoid my feelings.”
Bingo!
That awareness was a turning point for me, as I began to pay closer attention to the ways that I was avoiding myself, my thoughts, and my feelings.
As a result of my newfound awareness, another light bulb moment happened one day while driving. I was entering the highway from a two-lane ramp, when a huge dump truck decided to cut over in front of me. I, having little choice, hit my brakes; otherwise, I would have hit him. Man, was I ticked!
This was not a new experience for me. Trucks cutting me off always left me angry. That was the invitation. I had ignored it long enough. This time I was paying attention.
Having a history of being pushed around by men, I had learned to be very quiet and compliant, in my attempts to avoid their wrath. Their unresolved anger was taken out on me and being smaller and weaker, I had little choice but to endure.
Those unresolved feelings still festered inside, and every time a vehicle bigger than me “pushed” me into another lane or forced me to relinquish my right, those feelings got triggered.
Now, I had something to work with. I needed to be angry. I needed to be sad and I needed to cry. I also needed to feel the powerlessness that had been mine.
This was just one of many aha moments I had on this journey of self-discovery. Feelings of anger, grief, sadness, and loss showed up in so many ways and for so many reasons. I finally allowed them to express themselves.
So, yes, I was lucky. I could not avoid my feelings any longer.
Through this process, I began to get more comfortable with the pain. It ebbed and flowed like the tides. I found the support I needed and could trust. This is not something we can often do alone.
I chose to take myself to a psychotherapist, and that turned out to be one of the best things that I ever did for myself. “When the student is ready, the teacher will come.”
I also began to deal with my self-esteem issues. My inner voice was harsh and judgmental. My feelings about myself were pretty hateful. Each feeling led to the next, taking me deeper into my own experience, and like the proverbial onion, I peeled it back.
I was being invited to heal. And heal I did. Had I not gone through it myself, I would not have believed that my own transformation could take place in the way that it did. I was made new.
Learning to sit with my feelings freed me from the need to live in avoidance mode day in and day out. I was no longer fearful. I was better able to go with the flow of life.
As feelings showed up, I processed them by giving them voice and expression. They were leading me somewhere, and although I was not certain of the destination, I began to trust them.
As the old feelings began to find their rest, I began to feel better. I was less depressed and less anxious, until I was neither. I enjoyed myself more. My relationships began to be easier. I was more comfortable in my own skin.
Weeding through those difficult feelings was not easy, but neither was the way I had been living my life previous to having them. I had been afraid to speak up. I had been afraid of being ridiculed. I didn’t like myself. I was more uncomfortable than not. My relationships were distant and disconnected. I was living beneath my potential.
The avoidance of those feelings controlled my life in more ways than I had been aware.
We all avoid; it is human nature. We are afraid of the unknown. We are afraid we will collapse and never get up again. We are afraid of spiraling out of control. We are afraid of what change means. We are afraid of what others will think. We are afraid of so many things. And so we avoid.
We tell ourselves, “It was in the past” or “It happened so long ago.” And lets not forget the “shoulds”: “I should be over this.” “I should let this go.”
People would tell me, “Let it go.” I would think, “Don’t you think I would if I could?”
People would say, “Get over it.” I would wonder, “How do I do that?”
I would think of the people who hurt me, “They did the best they could. What’s wrong with me?”
I realize now that those telling me to “let it go” or “get over it” were not dealing with their own feelings. And telling myself, “They did the best they could” may be true, but it did not eliminate the fact that what they did hurt me. It was just another way for me to avoid the hurt.
There was nothing wrong with me. My feelings were about me. No one else. It wasn’t about blame. It was about acknowledging myself and listening to my pain.
Unexpectedly, I began to trust myself. I learned what it meant to take care of myself and to follow my heart. I made myself a priority. I finally understood what it meant to “let go,” and I could. I made peace with my past, began to enjoy the present, and started to look forward to the future. I was excited about the possibilities.
Don’t let anyone else tell you how it is. Don’t wait for someone else to make it okay for you to do what you need to do. Don’t minimize your own experience.
I want to invite you to wake up. Dig in. Lean in.
Know yourself, understand yourself, learn to love yourself. Pay attention. There are buzzwords like meditation, mindfulness, and self-awareness. Pick one and put it into practice.
It’s okay to be scared and uncertain. It’s okay to find the support you need. Be your own best friend. Let those feelings have their day. Release them from your body. It will change your life in ways you cannot even imagine.
You deserve to be free. You will be amazed at your own transformation. You deserve to have all that your heart desires. Can you hear it calling you?
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Healing from Depression: It Begins With Asking for Help

“I speak of a clinical depression that is the background of your entire life, a background of anguish and anxiety, a sense that nothing goes well, that pleasure is unavailable and all your strategies collapse.” ~Leonard Cohen
Right before my eighteenth birthday, when I was about to go to university, I was hit by a car and sustained multiple fractures to my right leg. This led to a couple of operations and the best part of ten months with me unable to walk.
While all of my school friends and peers were having the time of their lives in school, I was silently suffering with depression and anxiety, both of which continued to increase.
Whether it was the weed I smoked, the bottles of whiskey I drank, or the junk food I ate, I could not find comfort or relief from anywhere. Things just got worse, and I felt absorbed and consumed by the victim mentality that I had let penetrate my identity.
I dropped out of university after re-doing my first year. Despite passing, I just couldn’t go back. I was so ashamed to be me. I didn’t even tell my future housemates that I wouldn’t be returning.
About this time I realized there was a problem. In retrospect, it should have been glaringly obvious to me, with the self-medicating that was going on, but of course it’s harder to spot problems in ourselves.
In two years I had gone from one of the most outgoing people I knew, someone who always liked to do things like play sports or party, to a recluse who needed some sort of alternate state of consciousness to function. I started working and going out again on the weekends with some of my old friends and people I had met through work.
Naively I thought the problems were dissipating and I was returning to who I used to be. Now I look back on it and I know that the younger me had no idea who I was. Things leveled out for a few years until one day I had a breakdown on the way to work.
There was now no denying the extent of the problem, but hell, if you are in denial you can dig your heels in pretty firmly, and that’s what I did.
After a few more years of self-medicating, something happened, and to this day I can’t put my finger on the trigger, but something changed that made me realize enough was enough. A good friend recommended a therapist to me, and I was keen to see him and work through the issues that had been building up for seven years.
So I met with Peter and it seemed like an expensive chat with a nice guy for the first five or six sessions. Around this time I also had had a regular meditation practice. One day whilst meditating I felt like I gave myself permission to open up at the next session with Peter, but I have no idea from where or by whom this permission had been granted.
I was finally able to approach the issues with candor and rank honesty. I was able to bare my soul and describe how I had felt.
It’s weird to think that at the age of twenty-five this was perhaps one of the first times I’d done this, but I’d been so suffocated by depression and anxiety, and numbed by my self-medicating, that I had not once looked under the surface to see what things were really like inside.
Therapy began to get in to the nitty gritty of what was causing me to feel how I felt.
I had a fortunate and mostly happy childhood. My parents always did their best for my brothers and me. I could never doubt that. Interestingly, though, there were some wounds from my formative years that may well have contributed to me making some less than ideal choices in my teenage years.
Add to this the massive fear of missing out and jealously of my peers when I began university, and it’s a perfect recipe for some kind of psychological disorder, which in my case manifested as depression and anxiety.
I want to take a moment to describe the feeling of depression and anxiety as I experienced it, because I think too often in many parts of our society they are not described in their full ugliness.
Imagine waking up and feeling sick. Sometimes you throw up, sometimes you don’t. You then have to think about going to work. These thoughts mainly contain a deep sense of dread—not dread of anything in particular, but dread at the overall sense of having to interact with the world.
It’s so hard to describe because I wasn’t scared of interacting with people and I had friends, I just didn’t want anybody to know me.
After the dread comes self-loathing. I wasn’t worth knowing. I wasn’t worthy of any attention or any of the good things in life. How could anybody want to be around me? I didn’t feel deserving of anything really, and I projected this on to my work life, where I never tried anywhere near as hard as I could.
If it were the weekend, I’d do the only thing I knew that would help me: smoke weed or get drunk. It seems ridiculous now, and it probably is, that despite me being anxious and paranoid about going out, I would smoke weed, which only served to exacerbate this reluctance to leave the house. But it was my crutch; it held me up. (It didn’t, it made things worse.)
I’m aware of the futility of describing feelings in explicit terms. Nobody else but me will know exactly how I felt.
It’s like having a weighted vest on your chest that makes doing anything difficult. It’s like having the most negative person you could think of on your shoulder constantly nagging you, deeply instilling a sense of not being good enough and destroying any modicum of self-worth and self-respect that remained.
Despite this being my personal experience, I now know that I was not alone. Nearly a fifth of people in the UK, where I live, suffer with depression or anxiety at some stage in their lives. This I am okay with, it’s natural. Life has its downs, bad stuff happens, and it is our psyche’s way of dealing with it.
What I am not okay with is that it’s estimated that 50-80% of people suffering with depression do not receive treatment.
The stigma surrounding mental health issues in functional human beings is astounding. Because of our society’s attitude toward mental health, many people suffer in silence, and suffer much longer than they might need to.
I want people to know that you can talk to people. You can get help. There are support structures in place through healthcare providers that can give you a light at the end of the tunnel.
I was one of the lucky ones who, through a stroke of luck, found a way to ask for the help I needed. I’m still not sure how that happened, but I know I am forever grateful for it.
Through therapy, learning to accept myself, and my meditation practice, I am fortunate enough to say I don’t think I will head down that road again. And I know that the people around me will help me. If not, then I can pay to see qualified professionals who will be able to give me the help I need.
I know we have weeks and campaigns to raise awareness of these issues, but this is something we should always be aware of.
If you are the one who is suffering, know that there are people out there who can help. If you’re suffering in silence and carrying on, then you have already shown you are brave enough to ask for help.
If you know somebody who is suffering, remind them that you are there for them, and that there are people who can help.
With the rate of diagnoses of these types of illnesses increasing over the last half a century or so, it’s more important than ever that we are able to help each other in anyway we can, especially with something as quintessentially human as our feelings.
There are a few links below to free online resources that can provide support in dealing with your feelings. Of course, you can also discuss how you feel with a trusted friend or family member, or a professional. However you do it, know that taking the first step and asking for help is how it starts to get better.
Anxiety Forum – Recommendations and a forum to discuss anxiety
The American Psychological Association – Site includes research on anxiety, getting help, psychology news, and helpful books pertaining to the illness.
Depression Forums – Offers a caring, safe environment for members to talk to their peers about depression, anxiety, mood disorders, medications, therapy, and recovery.
Mental Health Forum – Loads of information and a friendly place to discuss mental health issues.
British Association for Counselling & Psychotherapy – Find a UK therapist.
For further resources see the Tiny Buddha Helpful Free Resources page
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One Simple Word That Can Change Your Life (And No, It’s Not “Thanks”)

“It’s not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters.” ~Epictetus
About nine years back I was at the lowest point of my life.
We had been trying to start a family for close to four years by that point.
The forty-plus consecutive months of “not pregnant” verdict were starting to take their toll on me. That second line on the pregnancy test strip seemed like it would never appear. Life felt like it was a never-ending cycle of false hope that was always crushed in the end.
I wouldn’t wish that kind of despair on my worst enemy.
I am a huge believer in the power of gratitude. I tried hard to look at all that we did have and find contentment in where we were. But anywhere I turned, it seemed like all I could see was pregnant women, or moms with children. And instantly, it would pull my thoughts back to this one thing that was lacking in our life.
I sincerely believe that “thanks” is one of the most powerful words in any spoken vocabulary. And that gratitude is one of the best antidotes to many of the problems we face.
In this situation, though, where I was hanging by a thin frayed strand that threatened to snap any minute, there was another word that helped me more in keeping it together.
And that’s the simple word “yet.”
Day after day. Month after month. Year after year. I reminded myself:
I’m not pregnant yet.
It’s not our time yet.
Even as I eventually started to make peace with the fact that we would not have kids naturally, I hung on to that one word.
There’s no need to despair yet.
It’s not time to give up yet.
We just haven’t found out a workable option to start our family yet.
It is perhaps the simplest, most under-rated word in the English language. But the power it can have on transforming our outlook is immense.
“Yet” makes things less final.
Whether it is a battle with infertility, a project that isn’t going the way we expected, or a relationship that’s constantly devolving, the simple word “yet” can transform the negative thoughts in our mind into something that feels less final.
And that opens up the space to breathe. To live. To look for alternatives. To look for solutions. Or simply to get through another day.
“I failed [at something]” is so final. It feels suffocating. It leaves very little room for us to maneuver.
“I haven’t succeeded yet” transforms the exact same event into something that has hope. Something with a better future. Something we can change. Something in our control.
“Yet” makes learning easier.
After the four-year struggle with infertility, we were finally blessed with a beautiful daughter.
You would think that after the experience we had, we would have treated her like a princess and lived happily ever after.
Things didn’t quite work out like that for us.
I was at that time in a very stressful job. My daughter had amply inherited the stubbornness genes from both sides of the family tree. I used to be a bit of a control freak.
Apparently, those things don’t mix well.
Before I even knew it, my daughter and I were butting heads on a regular basis and we were stuck in daily tantrums and power struggles.
I used to perpetually feel like a lousy mom.
Until one day I had the epiphany: I’m not a bad mom. I just haven’t figured out this parenting thing yet.
Adding that one simple word to the way I thought about the situation opened the doors to learning and to keep trying until we were back on track again. It paved the way for what has been a three-year journey of discovering and embracing the positive parenting philosophy.
My daughter has blossomed right before my eyes. Our relationship has improved by leaps and bounds.
All because I now see myself as someone who has yet to learn things, instead of flogging myself when I fail (and fail I do… parenting a strong willed child is not for the weak of heart!)
“Yet” makes dealing with others easier.
Over the course of time, yet has become the default lens through with I see others around me as well.
When my daughter is being difficult I remind myself: She is not trying to get to me. She simply hasn’t learnt how to manage her emotions and behavior yet.
When a friend makes what I think is a poor choice, I tell myself: It’s not my place to change her. She hasn’t experienced her share of what life has in store for her yet.
When I’m having a rough time working with someone, I say to myself: She’s new to this. She hasn’t quite got the hang of it yet.
Just as with difficult situations, the simple word “yet” makes it easier to deal with difficult people as well.
And discovering this has been a great blessing for all my relationships.
Beware, though. Watch out for this caveat.
I would be remiss if I just focused on the positive effects of the power of “yet” and not talked about its negative impact.
Unlike some other power words like “thanks,” “yet” is not a stand-alone, but rather an amplifier of what we think.
When used in a negative context, “yet” can make things orders of magnitude worse.
For instance, when we get stuck thinking poorly of ourselves, even a success might make us think: My regular clumsiness (or ill-luck) hasn’t caught up with me yet.
We need to watch out for these, and strip them of the power of “yet” as soon as possible.
The other day my daughter and I were happily coloring together in a parent-child journal I created. She was doing a great job, so I complimented her on it.
She sat back, looked at it and said with a smile: “It does look good, doesn’t it? I just means I haven’t messed it up yet.”
She probably meant it as a self-deprecating joke, but I couldn’t let it pass.
So I replied back with a smile, “No honey. It means you’ve done a great job coloring today!”
Sometimes, there’s just no place for the word “yet.”
So now, a question for you: What is the one situation in your life right now that can be transformed by the power of “yet”?
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3 Ways We Unconsciously Sabotage Our Relationships (And How to Stop)

“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source.” ~Anaïs Nin
As a long-time commitment-phobe, my love life has been somewhat inconsistent, to say the least, but this year it seemed I’d finally met someone I was ready and able to think about building a future with. Still, along with this feeling of hope came some challenges that I had never experienced before in a relationship. (And yes, it did occur to me that maybe these two things went together!)
I knew I loved my partner, but we often seemed to argue about nothing in particular. This was bewildering to me. I really couldn’t understand what had gone wrong! But, thanks to her patient reflecting to me, I recognized how I was contributing to this pattern, and why I needed to alter my own attitudes and behavior rather than blaming my partner and expecting her to change.
I began thinking about all this because it was frustrating to get into a shouting match but not be able to remember what had kicked it all off, only to realize, at the end of it, that we could both have used that time in many more enjoyable or productive ways.
I was sick of feeling stressed about it all, so when the opportunity came up at the local community center, I took a mindfulness class. My expectations weren’t that high, to be honest, but I was ready to try anything!
One challenging exercise was to take a step back from reacting when things got heated between us so that I could see more clearly what was actually going on, what I was doing to fan the flames, and some ways I could change.
One bad habit, I discovered, was how I would often interpret what my lover had said to me in the most negative possible way. If she told me I seemed tired, I’d worry she was saying I wasn’t as good in bed; or, if she said I was looking “healthy,” I’d think she meant I was putting on weight.
I had been too ashamed to actually share these thoughts with her, to see if what I was hearing was what she actually meant. But finally, I couldn’t avoid it any longer. So I plucked up the courage to share these vulnerable feelings, only to discover that I was creating almost all that negativity in my own head.
I realized that my interpretations stemmed from my own low level of trust and self-confidence; and that I needed a lot more reassurance from my partner than I had been willing to admit.
I understood how, because of my history, including the strained relationship I’d had with my parents when I was a child, I found it hard to accept love, even from the person I was closest to. This was hurtful and frustrating for her, and it was making me miserable.
In a strange kind of twist, I was nervous about being happy, even though it was what I wanted, because that meant the risk of being hurt and disappointed, as I’d been in my childhood. The only antidote to these fears seemed to be to learn to love and accept myself for who I was, and not be dependent on getting approval from anyone else.
My partner has been very supportive with this, and paradoxically, this sense of greater emotional independence has made it possible for me to risk being, and feeling, closer and more loving with her.
After reflecting more on the roots of conflict in our relationship, I identified our three main types of communication and saw how confusing them could easily create a mismatch between the intention of what we were saying to each other and how the other interpreted it.
This often led to an argument, which was nothing more than two people with different perspectives each pointlessly trying to convince the other that they were right—a futile pattern that were both keen to avoid.
You might recognize some, or all, of these; if so, what I learned about how to defuse them might work for you too.
1. Arguing with emotions.
These are statements of fact about the experience of the person sharing them—i.e.: “I feel nervous when you drive that fast”—so there’s no point in disagreeing with them.
My mistake was to respond to this kind of statement as if it were my partner’s opinion, and then disagree with it.
Or, I’d respond to personal statements, such as “I feel like you don’t listen to me,” or “You don’t prioritize sending time with me” with a rebuttal, such as “What do you mean, of course I do,” or defensiveness, i.e.: “You’re always criticizing me!”
Denying her reality like this was a sure way of disempowering and upsetting her. Instead, I’m learning to be more tuned in to how she’s feeling, and to respond in ways that validate this and show that it’s important to me.
So now I might respond with, “I’m sorry you feel that way. Can you explain more?” or “Is there anything that I could do differently to change this?” Then I’ll try to act on any response she has given me.
This listening and hearing builds a bridge of trust between us, rather than the wall I used to put up, and makes it much easier for us to find compromises and solutions. It changes from being a zero sum conversation to a win- win.
If you ever deny your partner’s feelings, take a step back before responding and get curious instead of defensive. It’s not easy, but validating each other’s emotions creates an atmosphere of love, care, and understanding.
2. Stating opinions as facts.
The trouble was, we both used to express opinions as if they were facts, the underlying assumption being that one of us was right, and therefore, anyone with a different point of view was wrong. Now, I appreciate and accept that my partner and I can have different perspectives on anything, and neither of us is necessarily more right. I can accept and enjoy our differences rather than being threatened by them.
Formerly, my partner would express opinions like “You’re being selfish,” or even “You work too much!” to me as if they were facts. It was hard for me not to feel judged and criticized.
If she insisted, this led to angry denials. In a perfect world, she would always recognize that these are opinions. But it’s a fact of life that I can’t control what she does, only how I respond to her. So now I try to understand where she’s coming from and why, rather than just reacting, and if I can’t, I ask for an explanation.
Try to recognize when you are stating opinions as fact, or trying to make your partner “wrong.” Communication goes a lot more smoothly when neither person feels judged or criticized.
3. Blaming each other for our own feelings.
I sometimes blamed my partner for my feelings, saying things like, “You’ve made me angry,” or “You’re so insensitive.” Thanks to her patient refusal to take these kinds of accusations on board, I came to see that these statements revealed more about me than her!
With a new awareness of how these dynamics operate between us, I’m able to take responsibility for my own negative feelings, which gives me a much better ability to do something about them, if that’s needed or possible. This also allows me to nurture more mutual trust and intimacy with my partner.
When you’re about to blame your partner for how you feel, step back and ask yourself, “How would I respond if I took responsibility for my feelings instead?” You can still acknowledge how their actions affected you, but you will be doing so from a place of owning your own experience and responses.
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Reflecting honestly on this process has been painful and challenging. If you’re at all like me, you may avoid doing any of this work for that very reason. It’s completely natural; we all instinctively avoid pain. All I can say is that, in my experience, it’s more than worth it.
By being clearer about what we are trying to communicate, and more conscious about how we share and listen to each other’s feelings, we can avoid the pitfalls of misunderstanding that could sabotage our relationships. And that will leave a lot more time and energy for what we really want to be doing: sharing love and being happy!


























