Tag: wisdom
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5 Lessons on Living a Long, Healthy Life, from a 90-Year-Old
“In the end, long life is the reward, strength, and beauty.” ~Grace Paley
In September 2014, my grandmother turned ninety years old. She lives in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. It is where she has lived her entire life, and while my parents could have brought her to live with them in the US a long time ago, she has always preferred to live independently in her hometown.
I went to Rio to celebrate my grandmother’s ninetieth birthday. Although I was born there, I had not been back for over twenty-five years. I learned a lot about my country of birth, my hometown, and my relatives on that trip, but the most important things that I learned were from my grandmother.
She is healthier, more active, and more independent than most seventy-year-olds. By simply observing her, I learned some key lessons about what it takes to have a very healthy and long life. Here are the five keys to her longevity.
The Importance of Being Physically Active
When you imagine someone in their nineties, you probably imagine a person who has difficulty moving because of body aches, stiff joints, muscle loss, and a lack of stamina. You may imagine someone who needs a cane or walker to get around and can’t walk long distances without needing to stop for a break.
My grandmother is definitely not that person. She is very active every day. She cleans her apartment, cooks her meals, and does her laundry. She also goes to the market, the bank, the post office, and anywhere else she needs to go on foot.
Because she lives in a big city and almost everything she needs is within walking distance, my grandmother is able to walk to most places.
She doesn’t walk because she thinks it’s good for her. No doctor has ever told her that she needs to be more active. She is active because it’s how she has always lived her life.
My grandmother is twice my age, but she moves more on a daily basis than I do. I have to make a conscious effort to perform as much physical daily activity as she does. My grandmother doesn’t have to go to a gym to work out; her daily life is all the work out she needs.
The Importance of Living Independently
Although she has many relatives who live close by (her younger sister lives in the same building), my grandmother has lived on her own for over thirty years. She manages her finances, makes all her own decisions, and doesn’t need to rely on anyone to provide for her basic day-to-day needs.
She takes care of everything herself every day. As a result, she has been able to remain confident in her abilities and her judgment.
My grandmother doesn’t feel like the world is moving too fast for her to keep up. She knows how to use modern technology, stays current on world events and local politics, and has no problem speaking her mind. She knows that she is vital and doesn’t need anyone to tell her what to do or how to do it.
Nothing intimidates her.
The Importance of Mental Wellness
For as long as I can remember, my grandmother has loved to crochet. Both my mother and I have boxes of table runners, bedspreads, and countless doilies that she has created for us over the decades.
There is plenty of anecdotal information as well as scientific research showing that crafts such as crocheting and knitting are good for your brain.
Some of the ways that crochet has been shown to improve brain wellness are by:
- increasing mindfulness
- requiring problem-solving
- improving hand-eye coordination
- encouraging creativity
- improving ability to focus
If you think about it, the act of crocheting is very similar to the practice of meditation. Crochet is relaxing and repetitive, requiring focus without any stress. In fact, for my grandmother it has always been a stress-reducer and (without her even realizing it) a way for her to be fully present.
The Importance of Close Relationships
Although my grandmother lives alone, she has many relatives who also live in Rio. Her younger sister lives in a different apartment in the same building and they spend several hours every day together. The sisters are extremely close, but they both benefit from the independence they are afforded by having their own homes.
My grandmother is also a big part of the lives of her relatives who live abroad. She speaks to and Facetimes with my mother almost daily. She also remains in close touch with her grandchildren and her great-grandson through letters, phone calls, and video chats.
My grandmother may live alone, but she is never lonely. She chooses when to spend time with others and how much time she wants to spend them. She has worked a balance between being involved and remaining independent that works out perfectly for her.
She knows how important she is to all those around her. She knows she is still appreciated which provides a great boost to her emotional well being.
The Importance of Feeling Useful to Others
My grandmother doesn’t just live close by to her younger sister; she is also her unofficial caretaker. My great-aunt lost her sight several years ago and can no longer do a lot of things for herself.
My grandmother knows that her sister truly needs her. She does all the cooking for her and they share daily meals. She also helps her by running errands and performing other daily tasks that have become much too challenging for her.
One of the most powerful books I have ever read is Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning. In his book, Frankl states that finding a meaning that gives us something to live for is our best source of happiness and longevity.
My grandmother is a perfect example of Frankl’s statement. Although she and her sister bicker sometimes (as all sisters do), when I see them together I know that they have an unbreakable bond. And I know that my grandmother benefits just as much from that bond as her sister does.
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These are the five keys to a long and healthy life that I have learned from my grandmother. If you want to live as long and happy a life as she has, be sure to find ways to stay physically active, maintain your independence as much as possible, enjoy activities that will keep your mind sharp, nurture your close relationships, and find a way to provide and care for others.
Do you have any longevity lessons that you have learned?
Happy old woman image via Shutterstock
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Healing Through Service: 20 Ways to Help Others (and Yourself)
“To ease another’s heartache is to forget one’s own.” ~Abraham Lincoln
A feral cat tempered my most recent bout with depression. I wasn’t seriously depressed, nothing like the debilitating times in my past, but I had a fairly strong case of the blues.
It was just before Thanksgiving, that time of year when people across America break bread with family and friends, and I was feeling sorry for myself.
I missed the gatherings we used to have when I was married. My ex-husband and I both loved to cook and every year we put together a gourmet feast for a group of family and friends.
This year I would be alone.
I live on the high desert and winters are harsh. Outside a sixty mile an hour wind was howling and a blanket of snow covered the ground. It didn’t help my mood.
When I opened the door to let my dog out to pee, I heard a high-pitched mewling. From the frozen hillside a scrawny white and black cat came crawling out of the sage. Its fur was matted and its ribs showed.
When I moved toward it, it retreated with a hiss. My own calico eats well, so I borrowed some of her Fancy Feast, a cup of dry food, and a bowl of water and set it outside.
Before long the cat was a regular visitor, but what was more gratifying is within a week it had filled out, and while its tail was still matted, its fur began to look glossier.
The cat, however, showed no appreciation. It continued to spit and growl when I brought its food out, and I have no doubt it would have taken off a finger if it could.
As the days went by I found myself looking out the window for the cat. I stuffed some blankets under the shed, although it rarely slept there. Once it ate, it moved back out into the desert.
I also found my depression lifting. I shared Thanksgiving dinner with a small group of new friends and when I returned home, the cat, with its usual ill-tempered snarl, was under the shed.
I brought out its food and told it, “You could come inside if you’d just chill out.” It pulled its ears back and hissed.
Small things can change our mood and they often have one thing in common—helping someone or something else. As soon as we step outside our own problems and feel compassion for someone who has it worse than we do, we begin to appreciate the life that’s in front of us.
It was impossible to not feel moved for this tiny creature that had survived in such a harsh environment. At night it seemed coyotes crawled out from every bush and burrow, yet it eluded them.
When it snowed I worried about it, but the following day its tracks would be in the snow and I’d find it hiding under the shed.
There are many ways we can be of service in the world. Even small acts of compassion can go a long ways. I think it’s more effective than donating money.
Of course, everyone needs money and it’s great to contribute to something we believe in, but money is service at a distance. It doesn’t alleviate the heart the way genuine human kindness does.
When we hand over a plate of hot food at a soup kitchen or save an abused animal, we’re connecting with another living being. We’re touching hands or fur, sharing a smile or a word.
Even if you’re shy and don’t like to be in groups there are many low-key, private ways to help lift someone’s spirit or ease an animal’s suffering:
1. Do you like to cook? Bake some extra pies and donate them to a homeless shelter.
2. Become a virtual mentor for a teen through a site like icouldbe.org.
3. Volunteer at a local school. Many schools are short staffed and welcome community involvement.
4. Knit or crochet afghans or scarves and take them to your local senior center.
5. Offer to babysit for a friend. You serve the adult, who could use a night out, and being around kids is often uplifting.
6. Volunteer to shop for a sick neighbor.
7. Volunteer for a crisis hotline.
8. Offer to take an elderly person shopping, to the movies or just for a drive.
9. Volunteer to read to children at your library’s story hour.
10. Put together a hygiene kit for a homeless person that includes toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, soap, etc.
11. If you pass a panhandler, take them out for a hot meal. Listen to their story.
12. Volunteer at your local animal shelter. If you’re able, adopt a shelter dog or cat. If you can’t make a long-term commitment, you might consider becoming a temporary foster parent for a shelter animal until they find a permanent home.
13. Send a card to a hospitalized kid through a site like cardsforhospitalizedkids.com or to someone in the military through a site like amillionthanks.org.
14. Rake, shovel or clean for an elderly neighbor.
15. Donate blood. You never know when your blood will save someone’s life.
16. Color (alone or with your child) and donate the picture to Color A Smile.
17. Do you have a special talent? Offer to do a free one-day workshop at a low-income community center or battered women’s shelter.
18. Offer to teach someone to read.
19. Donate your used books or clothing to a shelter.
20. Do small acts of service throughout the day—hold the door for people, let someone go in front of you at the grocery store if they have fewer items. Smile.
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Once you begin to think of ways to help, the possibilities are endless. You are giving to the world, and as a result you’ll find yourself thinking less of your own problems and your heart softening.
When we approach life with an attitude of service we develop empathy. It’s no longer about us, but about what someone else needs.
As for the cat, when you feed something, a responsibility goes with it. For the past several weeks I’ve tried to trap it to take into our local feral cat clinic where they will spay or neuter and vaccinate it. So far it’s eluded me, even managing to twice steal the food without setting the trap.
There’s a lesson in this as well. Service is not the same as saving.
We can help ease another’s suffering, but we’re not responsible for saving them. We need to accept that sometimes our service isn’t wanted or appreciated and if necessary, we need to step back and let them go.
Some people don’t want to be saved. Some cats don’t want to be caught.
It doesn’t matter. Being of service isn’t about accolades or praise. It’s about healing the world and us by taking tiny steps to make the planet a better, more compassionate place for all the creatures that share it.
Woman and kitten image via Shutterstock
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How to Stay Calm in a Chaotic, Stressed Out World
“You can’t calm the storm so stop trying. What you can do is calm yourself and the storm will pass.” ~Timber Hawkeye
After another driver pulled out in front of me and narrowly missed a collision, I put on my brakes and waited for the car to stop. As the other driver sailed off ahead of me, my hysterical passenger screamed, “What an idiot! Didn’t you see him? Why didn’t you blast the horn? These people shouldn’t be on the road!”
I realized my reaction, or lack of reaction, was out of the ordinary, and I also noticed that despite the circumstance I had remained equanimous—I hadn’t let it disturb my peace of mind.
I wasn’t angry with the driver, my blood pressure hadn’t increased, and no damage had been done. I was at peace.
It hadn’t always been this way. I inherited a short fuse from my dad (at least, that’s the excuse I used for years).
I was a footballer and with it, competitive and aggressive. Road rage was common, even when I wasn’t in a car, and I’ve been known to throw things across the room in frustration.
The person I am now could not be more different in this respect, and I’m a lot happier as a result, not to mention the improvement in my relationships and my health.
Imagine a day where very little upsets you and in the face of annoyances you just sail through, calm, peaceful, and happy. It may seem like an impossibility, but when I look at where I was and where I am now, I can assure you it’s not.
So how did I become equanimous and how did it change my life?
It started when I began daily meditation.
I took up the habit to try to control stress in a busy life. As I progressed I noticed I was becoming more relaxed, centred, and calm. But there was more to it than that; my brain was changing and I was becoming more self-aware, and also more considerate and compassionate toward others.
I was able to notice my emotions arising and slowly regained control over my moods.
This isn’t the same as supressing anger and emotions; this can be even more damaging. It’s getting to a point where the emotions don’t even arise in the first place.
It’s a long journey, it doesn’t happen overnight, and like with everything it takes practice.
Before I could do anything about controlling them, the first step was just to notice them. I spent a long time at this point prior to progressing! But with awareness comes progress, and just noticing the emotions arise is a huge step in the right direction.
The funny thing is that, as I traveled with a friend recently, I was shocked by how frustrated she got with drivers doing the speed limit but getting in her way.
I watched how her demeanor changed as she got more agitated and how the experience affected her mood after the journey, and I thought, This is crazy, how can people live like this? Then I thought, Well, exactly how you did not so long ago!
It’s become so common we consider it normal, but when I spend time in Thailand and other Buddhist countries it’s refreshing to notice that people don’t really lose their temper or scream, swear, and shout.
I used to think it was an unattainable goal. I’d look at monks and nuns being zen and think, Well surely it’s easy to be zen if you live on a mountain top away from the world. But as one old monk (who looked very young) told me, while they may not have the outside pressures like traffic jams, shopping, and emails to test their equanimity, they still have human internal pressures.
He explained to me about his separation from his mother when he was a young child, living through a war, the death of his brother, and his overcoming cancer. There’s enough there to make any human mind an unpeaceful place!
Our minds are so precious and powerful it makes sense we should keep them as peaceful as possible. Not only does it impact on our mood, our relationships, and our effectiveness, but also our health.
Imagine how different life could be if the ups and downs and little annoyances didn’t affect us anymore, if our brains were trained to not react, not suppressing anger but not having it there to suppress.
It’s not as difficult as we’ve been lead to believe, and it opens up a whole new way of life, one I am experiencing now. Having been both sides of this fence I can tell you which I prefer, and the way to get there—equanimity!
I learned this skill by meditating most days for just ten minutes, and the change was so subtle that sometimes I’m not quite sure when it all changed and how I arrived here. But looking back in hindsight, I can see how far I’ve come and what a difference it’s made to my life and the life of those around me.
My days are not the same if I don’t get some yoga or meditation done first thing. Once I’m up out of bed I like to sit for just ten minutes and focus my awareness on my breathing.
On my more distracted days I might chose a guided meditation to help me focus. Some days if I don’t have time to sit on a cushion I find ways to incorporate stillness into my daily life. It could be a few deep breaths while I wait for the kettle to boil or a mindful walk on the way to work.
There are so many opportunities throughout our day to stop for a second, bring our awareness to our breathing, and notice what is going around us and within us. This is the key to developing equanimity.
The more awareness we have of our thoughts and feelings, the easier it becomes to detach from them, over time, with practice.
Imagine what a different place the world would be if we could all learn equanimity. Well, be the change you want to see and start today! Bringing stillness to our mind also brings peace, and when we are at peace nothing disturbs our equanimity.
Meditating girl image via Shutterstock
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The Truth About Social Anxiety and 5 Ways to Relieve It
“Perfectionism is a twenty-ton shield that we lug around thinking it will protect us, when in fact, it’s the thing that’s really preventing us from being seen and taking flight.” ~Brené Brown
About fifteen million adults suffer from social anxiety according to the Anxiety and Depression Association of America. Fifteen million. And we’re not just talking about what you’d call shyness. We’re talking about big fears of judgment and scrutinization from others.
When we hear statistics it can be difficult to remember the humanness of those numbers. These are people who want to find love, who want to make new friends, or who need to talk to new people for work. Maybe you’re one of them. I used to be.
I remember feeling uncomfortable in my own skin, being highly aware of what I was saying, how I was saying it, and how other people were taking me in. I even remember being in college at a party standing with a group of friends when one of them loudly declared that I looked super uncomfortable.
Well, I was super uncomfortable, and that statement only brought more attention to my demeanor making me even more self-conscious. It sucked. I didn’t want to feel awkward let alone be known as the awkward girl.
I was always so concerned with how I was presenting myself. I wanted everyone to feel like I had it all together. I wanted to appear cool, but mostly I didn’t want to do a lot of things.
I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself. And I definitely didn’t want to be disliked.
What I wanted was to be able to speak easily to people. I wanted to feel laid back. I wanted to not be “shy” in groups. I wanted to feel comfortable. I wanted to get lost in the moment instead of watching and analyzing my every move. I wanted to just be me, and be okay with it.
Often times when we talk about anxiety this is where we stop. But I’ve discovered something deeper. I worked on myself a lot in my twenties. I made a very dear friend who was super outgoing. Being in her presence helped me see that I could present myself differently.
I could open up a bit more, I could smile a bit more, and I could show my happiness to strangers.
I also learned a lot about my ego. I saw some of the ways my mind was holding me back. I was able to acknowledge that fear was driving me in these situations and that I didn’t have to pay so much attention to my mind.
I became more comfortable in social situations through practice. I found my edge and worked from there. I became more cheerful, more outgoing, and it worked.
People responded, and I connected more deeply. It felt great, but it didn’t entirely feel easy. I still didn’t feel 100% in my own skin, and I found myself exhausted after being in social situations.
Years later I discovered that all along I had been afraid of being seen.
I’m not talking about being out in the world and observed by others. I’m not talking about being afraid of showing up at a party or an event and having people look at me. I’m not talking about superficial self-consciousness. I’m speaking about a deep, spiritual need to be seen for who it is we really are.
All this time I had actually been terrified that if someone saw who I really was they would reject me, and I didn’t know that I could recover from that. But if someone rejected the persona I’d created, well, that wouldn’t be as bad—it wasn’t really me.
I discovered this truth through something we all have at our disposal 24/7. It’s actually something we all need and use: the breath.
Breathwork is a powerful active meditation, and it’s changed so many aspects of my life including this one. It’s given me access to deeper truths about myself and about human beings in general.
We all want to be loved, and to be loved means you’re accepted as you are. So if you’re deeply afraid, unconsciously afraid, that you might not be loved, how do you think your body is going to respond? It’s going to feel fear.
It shows up as self-consciousness because our minds work to remedy the situation. If I monitor my every movement I’ll be safe. I won’t show too much of myself, and I won’t be rejected.
The problem here, aside from the fact that we don’t want to actually be living our lives in constant moderation of ourselves, is that we expend so much energy watching ourselves, trying to be the person we think we should be.
That’s why I was so exhausted after being in social situations. It took up so much of my energy to be around people and not feel like I could really be myself.
There is so much relief in being able to be yourself. There is so much freedom in having deep, unconditional love for yourself and knowing that the only thing that matters is that you have your own back.
It leaves you feeling comfortable being you. It allows you to have a more intimate relationship with yourself, discovering who it is you actually are instead of living under the guise you’ve created for yourself. That guise was a defense mechanism; it was your shield so you wouldn’t get hurt.
But you don’t have to worry about getting hurt anymore. Yes, you will still feel pain, but you will have such a deep trust in life that you know you’ll always get through it.
With this trust and this love and this new life, it’s not scary to show yourself anymore.
You know that the right people will forgive you if you mess up. You know that the people who you need to have around you are the ones who love the things that come out of your mouth, who don’t push you or manipulate you or judge you.
From simple, immediate action steps to deeper healing work, here are five ways you can start relieving your social anxiety today:
1. Use the power poses.
Power Poses are simple body movements scientifically proven to increase confidence hormones and decrease stress hormones. Before you’re going into a social situation put your hand behind your head or even simply raise your hands wide and high in the air.
2. Focus on others.
When we’re self-conscious in social situations we’re so focused on ourselves that it’s extremely difficult to connect with others or to even relax. Try finding someone to connect with by asking them about themselves. Become interested in them and place all your awareness on what they’re saying. This helps us engage and removes us from our own self-concern.
3. Find your edge.
Know where you’re comfortable and where you feel like you’re going to have a panic attack. Somewhere in the middle lies your edge.
Your edge is the place you can go to that feels uncomfortable but not like you’re going to die. Hang out there, take some risks.
This might look like you starting a conversation with someone on your own, asking someone a question, making eye contact, or telling someone something about yourself that feels personal. Continue to practice living on your edge, and it won’t be your edge anymore.
4. Look deeper.
You can remedy things by watching and emulating those who excel socially. Or you could spend time getting to know yourself more deeply, facing the truth that maybe you’re afraid to show who you really are. Once we’re willing to face the things we’re hiding from we can begin to liberate ourselves from these deep fears.
5. Use your breath.
You can use your breath in the simplest way to reduce your stress levels. Take deep belly breaths very slowly. The slower and deeper the breath the more you activate your parasympathetic nervous system creating a relaxing environment in your body.
If you want to go for full transformation you could try breathwork and see what you discover about yourself.
There is a life free of social anxiety. When you choose to dig a little deeper and take steps to heal yourself, you’ll find yourself on a new path. On that path you may discover that you don’t even know who it is you really are. But once you discover yourself, you’ll see there is a whole world of people out there waiting to meet you.
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No Matter What You Tell Yourself, There Is Nothing Wrong with You
“I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.” ~Bronnie Ware from Top Five Regrets of the Dying.
I wish I could remember the exact moment I mis-learned that being myself wasn’t going to cut it.
It happened early. Maybe kindergarten. I didn’t do it consciously, but at some undetectable moment, I put my real self in a box and created someone else. This new me was so much better—always happy, very accommodating, super quick and witty, and an expert at everything.
This new me was almost impossible to maintain. She required constant observations, self-sacrifices, and living in fear of being found out. But I knew she was necessary. The real me was not an option.
Why? Because something was wrong with me. Even in elementary school, I had come to an unfortunate conclusion: Everyone is better than me. I can never let anyone see that.
There was evidence. I had the only divorced parents in a conservative suburb. I had stringy hair that never congealed into the halo formation I desired no matter how much spray I applied. (It was the eighties!) I didn’t own any brand names. And, worst of all, my father was gay.
My dad never told me he was gay. He just was gay one day when I was ten. The problem was, he left my mom for a man when I was three. That left seven years of deception in between.
I went to gay parades with him because he “had some gay friends.” I slept over at the house he shared with his “roommate.” So when my mom finally sat me down to tell me the truth, I was shocked. And betrayed. They’d both been putting on a show for seven years. Why?
My ten-year-old brain assumed they must have hidden it because it was supposed to be hidden. In a time before Ellen or even an inkling of gay marriage talk, I figured this was a secret so shameful that nobody should know about it.
I wasn’t against my father or against homosexuality. I was against being different. Flawed. Weird. I was surely the only girl in elementary school who had seen assless chaps at a street fair. I wish I had owned it and flaunted a rainbow flag backpack, but I couldn’t then. I was too obsessed with being ‘the same.’
I decided not to tell anyone. Not my friends. Not my teachers. No one.
But a story has all the power when the only place it’s allowed to live is inside you.
Keeping up a constant lie is exhausting. The anxiety alone about being found out can overtake your body. It controls the way you speak, the way you breathe, what you choose to share with friends. The latter kept all my friends at an arm’s distance. I craved so badly to feel closer to them. Connected. But connection was too scary.
Six years after I found out about my father’s true self, he fell into one of his many deep depressions and took his own life.
I had just gotten my driver’s license. His phone was off the hook, and I drove against my mom’s rules to see him. His apartment was a den of depression and his 6’5” body thinner than I’d ever seen. I gave him a hug, and when I drove away, I had no idea it would be our very last hug.
At sixteen, there were few conclusions for me to make besides: See! Something is seriously wrong with me. My dad didn’t even want to stay to see me grow up.
Outwardly, I pretended it was no big deal. I cried alone in my room, in my car, places where nobody could see. I wanted to rewind it all. I wanted to change everything. I wanted to go to sleep for years and wake up a happy adult with it all figured out.
I jumped further into people pleasing. That guy needs a date to something? Let’s go. My teacher is handing out extra credit? I’ll do double. Smile. Smile. SMILE! I got my grade point average to 4.5 and was crowned homecoming queen. (Kids, take notes! You too can become homecoming queen if you simply accommodate every single person who is not you.)
I went to college far away to get away from myself, but my self followed. My fear. My pretense. My anxiety followed. And as I compared my family to an even broader spectrum of strangers, it got worse.
The only time I would talk about my personal life was when I was drunk and making jokes. Once a salesman told me to buy a present for my father. I laughed and said, “My father is in the ground!” Then I walked out of the store laughing as if it was the funniest thing I’d ever said.
Years after college, I met a girl in a writing class. She was the tiniest person I’d ever met and had a voice to match. It happened that our leases ended at the same time, and we had a frank conversation about becoming roommates.
“I am a loner,” I told her.
“Me too. We can close our doors and we’ll know that it’s not a good time. Let’s do it.”
We moved into a two-bedroom apartment in Los Angeles, and one month after combining our silverware, this girl washed the dishes I’d left in the sink. I didn’t get it. She wasn’t my mom. She didn’t have to. I could not grasp the concept of someone else actually wanting to do something for me without being forced or wanting something in return.
She also insisted on driving me to the airport or paying for dinner or seeing if I needed anything from the store. She simply wanted the best for me. She was offering me the connection I’d craved, and I didn’t know how to handle it.
We would lie on the carpet at night and stare at the popcorn ceiling. I tried to be vague when she asked me about my life. I was used to short answers, accustomed to my motto: Get done with the talking fast so the group can move on to someone better. But she wouldn’t let me off the hook.
She reached for me. She held my hand. I’d never experienced such intimacy with a friend. I recoiled at first, but she persisted. It’s like she knew the terror inside my head—the terror to be close, to be discovered, to be guilty. She knew, and she was guiding me through.
And so I told her my truth. I let it out. And she told me hers. And we cried and we laughed and we didn’t stop until our lives made a pile on the living room floor. She didn’t hate me. She didn’t abandon me. She didn’t tell me I was weird or different or wrong. She just held me and said it was all okay.
At twenty-eight, she was my first real friend. At twenty-eight, I finally grieved openly for my father.
This first friend of mine began to unravel the mask I had spent years sewing. She pulled the first thread, and then I began to write, which untied me even more. I posted an essay about my father on my blog and was met with solidarity and hugs. And love.
Being real felt suffocating at first. I had to get used to awkward pauses when I’d say the word ‘suicide.’ I had to learn to relax and not be on constant alert during conversations in order to say the wittiest response first. I had to admit when I was wrong or didn’t know. I had to be willing to show others my imperfection.
I’m still working on it all. Every day. But since I came clean, my world is completely different. I drink less alcohol because I don’t need to hide from my own terror-filled brain. I have a set of friends with whom I can share every tiny detail about myself. I feel fulfilled. I feel honest. I sleep well.
And most of all, my story has lost its power. Once I began saying it out loud, I realized that every single person has felt shame at some point. No one thinks she or her family is perfect. But it takes sharing to find that out.
I felt such a relief from letting go of my secret that it became my mission to spread the word.
I started a show in Hollywood called Taboo Tales. I help people take their secrets and make them into emotional comedy pieces they tell on stage to a big crowd of strangers. It’s a mini version of what I’ve experienced over the last seven years. People get to tell their story, feel a relief from letting go, and then find immediate solidarity from the audience.
Brene Brown says, “When we deny the story, it defines us. When we own the story, we can write a brave new ending.”
It is the absolute truth. I have seen it firsthand countless times on stage. And I experience brave new endings every day. I have an entirely new life after learning to become vulnerable. To tell it all. To own what’s made me who I am. To be proud of my cool, gay, leather-wearing dad!
Sure, I’m still working on figuring out who I am after faking it for so long. But I know for sure I’m doing my best. And I’m not following in my father’s footsteps. He let his shame simmer inside of him until it was too much. Not me. Vulnerability saved my life.
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If you’d like to taste some vulnerability, you can start with a tool I use in my Taboo Tales workshops. Set a five-minute timer and write a list of all the things you would never share with anyone else. The timer makes you keep going, and you’ll be surprised at what comes up.
Take one of those things on your list—the scariest one— and write about it. You can burn everything later, but just getting the story out from inside where it festers is a necessary step. See where that takes you. Maybe read what you wrote to one person if you can.
If not, start with small truths. Post an honest picture on social media instead of something posed and perfect. Let someone see your messy house or car when you may have made an excuse in the past. Respond with anything other than ‘fine’ when someone asks you how you’re doing. And something I really value in my own life: tell the truth when it’s time to break plans.
“I’m really too depressed to hang out today” is actually what a good friend would want to hear instead of “I can’t make it.” Your honesty could open that friendship up to new and more intimate conversations.
Friends are really important in your path to vulnerability. Could you tell any of those items on your list to a friend or two? If you feel like they would all judge you, maybe you could use a new, cozier friend. They’re out there, I promise.
And one last tip: participate less in gossip. One thing that keeps us holding ourselves back is the fear of being judged. So I challenge you to not be a part of judging on the other side either. Once you begin letting go of your own judgments against others, the idea of being judged yourself becomes less scary.
Tips or no tips, the goal is to tell your story, whether it’s big and taboo or not. Start small and work up to letting it out in whatever ways you can. Hey, if you want to start below, let’s make this comment section a judgment-free space where everyone’s allowed to share whatever it is they can. That can happen on the Internet, right?
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7 Steps to Overcome Daily Despair and Start Living Again
“If you cannot make a change, change the way you have been thinking. You might find a new solution.” ~Maya Angelou
Have you ever felt really stuck? Like every day was a struggle to get through and you knew in your heart the next day would feel the same?
For the last seven years—since the crash of 2008—I’ve been redefining myself, and it’s been painful.
In 2009 I opened an Internet retail store, knowing nothing about retail, let alone the intricacies of the Internet.
After years of hard work and little to show for it, every day began to feel like total drudgery. Facing daily discouragement and defeat weighed heavily on me.
I began to lose my self-confidence and doubt everything I was doing. I was frozen by the fear of failure.
Every day was torture. Each morning I promised myself I would be productive, but day after day I failed to accomplish even the simplest tasks. Days added up to weeks, and weeks piled up into months of “stuckness,” frustration, and despair. I was literally ensuring my failure. And I knew it.
Despair encompassed every area of my life. I felt like I was thrashing through quicksand. I stopped meditating regularly, couldn’t get enough sleep, and the stress was affecting my digestion and my health. I was in a fog of depression.
Although these issues manifested in my business life, I placed such a focus on making my business succeed that I lost all balance. My personal life suffered greatly. Despair can’t be compartmentalized. It affects all aspects of your life.
Why do we get stuck?
The irony of life is that so many of our problems—the stumbling blocks that hold us back—are often there because we get in our own way. We can create a prison of continued, daily suffering for ourselves. And then all we can do is agonize because we desperately want out.
Each day we wake up in a fog hoping the cloud will lift. We simply can’t see clearly enough to evaluate our problems and realize that each one links back to an action or thought that created it.
If only we could see this, we could untangle the threads and clear up our lives. Knowing the cause can make the problem much easier to fix if we can just get our minds in the right place.
How to Reset Your Mind
Use the following seven steps to overcome daily despair and start living again:
1. Break the pattern.
The first thing to do with any negative pattern is stop what you’re doing. You’ve got to break a pattern to change it. This means emotionally removing yourself from the situation. You’ve got to regroup.
Taking time away is helpful. If that’s not feasible, find a quiet place where you can retreat for alone time during all spare moments. If you have kids, do this while they’re sleeping or safely occupied.
Tell yourself you’re leaving all your worries outside the door and you’ll pick them up later if you decide to. You deserve this time. You need it. Think of it as a gift to yourself.
If you’re open to meditation, this is a perfect time to start a practice or deepen your existing one.
I separated myself from despair during my time alone by admitting that I was torturing myself and not accomplishing anything. I declared that I refused to live like that any longer, and promised I would find a different way.
2. Free your mind.
During your free time, don’t think about problem-solving of any kind. Focus on resting, healing, and gifting yourself with positive, healthy thoughts and experiences.
Change your daily activities from TV and other distractions to calming interests. Take walks outdoors. Read only uplifting things. Catch up on your sleep. Get to bed early when possible.
Clear your mind by practicing silence. Silence does wonders to slow your thoughts and help you to be mindful of the present good moments.
I began to shift my focus to meditation and other down-time activities instead of work. I practiced silence every morning while walking to clear my mind and stay healthy. And I made time for friends and family even when I didn’t feel like I had the time.
I was so relieved that my despair soon began to lift when I stopped focusing all my efforts on work.
3. Collect ideas to kick-start your thinking.
Once you’ve broken your pattern, determine the key issue you’re struggling with and find a high-quality resource to begin collecting ideas.
Are your relationships getting you down? Do you need some spiritual rejuvenation? Is your problem depression? Do you need to learn positive thinking, stress management, or time management?
Plenty of resources to address your problem are at your fingertips on the Internet, in a bookstore or library, at a local group meeting or Meetup, or a seminar. Find something that sparks your interest and has received top recommendations from others, and dive in.
I took an online marketing course to rebrand my business. The instructor planted the thought that I’d be much happier shifting my business into something I was more passionate about.
After listening to me, she suggested that I share what I’ve been doing for years on my yoga path to help others like I was helping myself.
4. Give your situation some preliminary thought.
Armed with fresh ideas and with the new resilience gained from your self-care, begin to gently daydream some possibilities.
This is important. Approach this in a relaxed way—not grasping for answers but allowing them to surface naturally if they do. It’s not even a requirement. This is a creative process.
During this time, I casually ran ideas through my mind to see if sharing my yoga experiences was a possibility. A big part of me wasn’t sure it was right because my practice was so personal. But I loved the idea of turning my passion into my work.
5. Trust the process.
There’s no plug and play solution for transforming despair. Your subconscious, creative, problem-solving mind takes time to process properly.
Be patient. You don’t need all the answers right now—just some starter fluid to get your brain thinking. As with any creative process, the first answers won’t be your best.
Know that the right answers will come in time because you’re feeding your mind and you’ve removed all pressure. If you’re stressing out at all or pushing too hard for answers at any point, back off and resume Step 2.
6. Reset your reality through change.
Once you’ve cleared your mind, absorbed input from a trusted resource, and eased into daydreaming, you can start making some changes in your life.
When promising, unique answers begin to surface, start deciphering the details.
Although the advice you found probably felt uplifting and hopeful, in order to successfully transform your life, you’ll need to put the new ideas into practice. What steps can you take to follow the recommendations?
It took me a full year from the first time I thought about changing my focus to actually doing something about it. The more I daydreamed about what can be accomplished through the ancient yoga teachings, the more it seemed a perfect fit for me to spread the word.
I incorporated my instructor’s advice, and made sharing my yoga journey a main part of my business. This time I consulted respected resources to learn how to do it successfully rather than winging it like I did with the retail store.
Your answer doesn’t have to mean changing your work. My business had to change because it wasn’t working and I was allowing it to cause my despair.
You can change whatever aspect of your life is causing your pain.
7. Trace back to the thoughts or actions that caused your stuck feeling.
Changing the outer aspects of your life is often the best way to uproot despair. But to make the change permanent, it’s important to carefully consider the inner aspects. Identify the thoughts or actions that resulted in your situation to begin with.
For me, my business wasn’t taking off like I expected it to, raising serious issues of self-doubt. Not making it work meant failure. Hadn’t I already failed to hang on to my career in corporate America?
This doubt caused me to spend more time researching what I should do to market the business than actually marketing it. I was always being attracted to the next “best idea.” Fearing it wouldn’t work, I kept searching instead of implementing.
When I finally realized that self-doubt had caused my problem, I was able to start implementing instead of doubting, and complete my healing.
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No matter how bad life seems, you can find the way out of despair.
We all need time to rejuvenate, so break your pattern. Take time to reflect on what you truly want out of life and what you must do to get back on course.
The answers often are not complex. They’re just hidden because you lost your focus on what’s important.
Take some time to think about the thoughts or actions that may have led to your despair. Once you identify the problem, with a little guidance you can correct it and completely change your life.
The best part? Your answers will often arise on their own once you devote time to yourself to heal and reflect.
Man on mountain image via Shutterstock
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How to Help a Friend Through Grief
“Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.” ~Vicki Harrison
I’m no stranger to grief. When I was twenty-three I lost my mum, and then eight years later I lost my second daughter, Grace, when she was only one day old.
Soon after Grace died, my husband and I saw a grief counselor. He said something about other people’s reactions to grief that turned out to be one of the truest statements anyone has ever made to me.
He said, “There will be at least one friend you never hear from again because they don’t know what to say. At least one person will tell you not to worry because you can have another baby. And there will be one shining star—someone who you didn’t consider to be that close a friend—who will be there for you more forcefully and consistently than anyone else.”
All three of his predictions came true.
If you have a friend who is grieving, I know you will want to be their shining star. Grief is awkward and difficult; it’s something we tend to shy away from if we can help it. If you have never experienced grief, you may be at a loss to know what to say or do.
You Don’t Need to Say the Right Thing
In fact, you don’t need to say anything at all. You just need to be there.
It may not feel like much, but your physical presence alone is a comfort—a hug, a hand to squeeze, a presence in the room. These are all important crutches when someone is navigating grief. Remember that you can’t fix this; all you can do is open your arms and open your heart.
There were a few friends I never heard from again after I lost Grace, as the counselor predicted. It seemed so unfair to lose friends at the same time as losing my baby. I wish they had known that I didn’t expect them to say anything profound or heal my pain, but I did expect them to stick around.
Try to Steer Clear of Platitudes
The discomfort and awkwardness outsiders often feel toward grief has given rise to many platitudes over the years. Personally, I would steer clear from saying, “Everything happens for a reason,” or, “It is God’s will.” Even someone with the strongest faith will find that hard to swallow.
Many platitudes are focused on trying to make the griever focus on the future and move on. While the intent is admirable, I just didn’t want to hear that time is a healer and how all would be fine. My grief is a burden I carry with me every day, and while it is true that I have learned to bear the weight of it (most of the time), I will never “get over it.”
Try to consider your friend’s beliefs and values before offering words that you feel may be of comfort. Someone said to me, “Grace and your mum are up there watching over you,” which is a statement that just doesn’t match my beliefs, however much I wish it did.
Instead, I felt slightly annoyed and then guilty for feeling annoyed, because I knew how well-intentioned my friend’s statement was.
Remember Anniversaries
Try to remember anniversaries such as the birthday of the person who died and the anniversary of the date of their death. Sending a card or even just a text on the day will let your friend know that you are remembering too.
I have a friend who always writes Grace’s name on our Christmas card. This means so much to me at a time of year when Grace’s absence from our family is even more keenly felt.
Celebrate Together
Celebrating the life of the person your friend has lost can be as simple as reminiscing and talking about them. You could ask to look at photos and other mementos with your friend or help put together a life book.
Don’t be afraid to mention the person they lost. You may think it kinder to steer clear of the subject, but trust me; your friend will want to talk. Memories are all that remain after a loss, and talking about the person who died really does help to keep them alive.
If your friend is fundraising in memory of their loved one, you could offer to help. My husband and I carried out a lot of fundraising after Grace died, and it wouldn’t have been possible without the wonderful friends who helped out at and supported our events.
Always Remember
Deep loss causes lasting changes—I know I’m not the same person I used to be. Your friend may seem fine one day and angry or depressed the next. It’s all part of grief’s rhythm, which is eternal and has no logic or pattern.
Vicki Harrison’s quote above really sums up what it is like to live after loss. So don’t take it personally if your friend seems distant or has no wish to socialize at times. He or she is just learning to swim.
I can bear the load at times; other times I simply can’t. One of the consequences of my loss is that I have unintentionally become more introverted. Some days I just need to stay in a safe bubble with my little family, because letting the rest of the world in is too difficult.
It’s easy to remember the profound effect grief has on your friend shortly after the loss, but much tougher to keep this in mind months, years, and decades after. I don’t believe that time is a healer; instead, it seems to be an adapter. With much difficulty, I am learning to adapt to life without my loved ones.
The rawness may be dulled with time, but the emotions and sorrow are not. I know it can’t be easy for the friend of a griever, but if you can remember and be there for the long term, you will be the shining star your friend so desperately needs.
Friendship vector via Shutterstock
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The Beauty of Being Single: 6 Benefits of Solitude
“I never found a companion that was so companionable as solitude.” ~Henry David Thoreau
Shock. Rage. Sorrow. Excitement. Terror. These are just a handful of the emotions one experiences in the aftermath of a separation or divorce. Emotional rollercoaster? It’s more like being hit with the speed and velocity of a bullet train.
I should know. After twenty-five years of marriage to a kind and accomplished man, I found myself alone.
Our decision to divorce was neither acrimonious nor cruel; neither sudden nor impulsive. Rather, our decision to file for divorce was an incremental process.
We had more disappointment than hope, more unease with each other than affection and contentment. As difficult as it was to recognize the wrong turns we’d made in our two-plus decades together, we both realized that it was time for each of us to draw a new map.
While my husband remained in the home we had lived in together throughout our marriage and the raising of our daughter, the path on the new atlas of my life led me back to Italy, the country of my birth.
In retrospect, it was far easier to relocate to somewhere radically different from the place I’d called home for thirty years than it was to sit with the equally radical emotions aroused by separating from the person who knew me best.
Once the bags were unpacked, the boxes unloaded, and the small apartment I’d rented in the heart of Rome redecorated, I had to contend with the alien feeling of a naked ring finger and a heart full of pain.
The relief of our separation—no longer would I have to tiptoe around the mounting frustration and disenchantment between us—was short-lived; the rush of excitement at the idea of “a fresh start” evanescent as a shooting star.
With a job from home, only a shoebox of an apartment to tend to, and no wifely duties, motherly chores, or social commitments, I had only one thing to do and one place to go—and that was inward.
It was lonely in there. Where, I kept thinking, was that rock-solid husband of mine who was ready to jump onto the roof at a moment’s notice when the gutters overflowed?
Who would take care of me when I was sick, keep me warm when I was cold, ease me into sleep when I had insomnia? Who would share the beauties of life with me?
How could I live if I didn’t have a partner to love?
I was in profound disbelief (it wasn’t really over); angry (how could my husband let me go?); worried (would I end up begging for scraps of food in Piazza Navona?); ashamed (I should have tried harder); resolved (I’d get him back and we’d make it work), and adrift (life was pointless).
But then resignation arrived, and with it, a certain, glorious freedom. I was divorced, not dead. The questions I had? It was akin to asking a well where I could find a drink of water. And in their absence, new ones arrived: Who were my neighbors in the eternal city? Which interests could I develop? How could I create a routine that nurtured my values? And how could I march in single file?
As I began navigating life alone, I discovered that, while enormously different, a great deal of solace and satisfaction can be found in solitude. If you’re going through a similar transition, consider the following benefits of flying solo:
1. Your imagination will soar.
It’s true: Creativity emerges from quiet and an open agenda. Having long been a writer—but also a wife, mother, homeowner, and full-time corporate executive—I long ago learned to write against distraction.
In my new space, where the only distractions were those I created, my imagination was provoked in ways that I hadn’t experienced since I was a child. Without time- constraints and working to the tune of a television show I wasn’t watching, I found myself freer on the page, more productive, and thoroughly content daydreaming about a daydream.
If thinking of a long, unstructured weekend day fills you with the blues, use it to your advantage. Creative expression, whether through writing, drawing, or dancing, often proves to be cathartic for people.
Paint your way through anger, redecorate a room to lift your mood, or spend an hour imagining the places you have the freedom to explore in your new, unencumbered state.
2. Your life will become entirely yours.
Responsibilities have always been a large part of my adult life. From commuting to the office to hosting dinner parties for my husband’s colleagues, rarely did my former schedule allot much time for what I—and I alone—wanted to do.
In the absence of these duties, I found a surplus of time, energy, and excitement to pursue my passions. A candlelight yoga class? An art-house film on a Tuesday that would have been otherwise dedicated to household chores? Cocktails on a school night? Yes, yes, and yes, please!
I discovered the deliciousness of creating my own schedule and following what called to me rather than what was expected of me—and you are wholly free to do the same.
What fell by the wayside during your relationship—friendships, hobbies, unread novels, moving to the city of your dreams—are exactly where you left them. Only now you have the time and devotion to give them the attention and energy they deserve.
3. You will learn self-reliance.
While I was the master of my own life, I was also the one solely responsible for making sure that such a life worked.
Going from a dual income to one was daunting at first—until I recalled the gift I had for budgeting pre-marriage, which allowed me to buy my first apartment before I turned twenty. A leaky faucet, a flat tire, a frustrating day? I bought a toolset and watched YouTube videos, befriended our local mechanic, and learned that Rainer Maria Rilke was entirely right when he said that no feeling is final.
The more self-reliant I became, the more confident—and happy—I felt.
Should you find yourself in the same place, start slowly but stay determined. Pick one area of your life where you need to become self-sufficient, whether it’s in balancing your checkbook or learning to cook for one. Once conquered, attack the next…and next, and next, and next, until you find yourself surprised that at one time you depended on anyone else at all.
4. You will befriend yourself.
With only myself to please and take care of, I embarked on a new relationship—with myself.
I was tentative at first, much as one is when they first start dating someone new. Would I like a glass of cabernet out of habit because it’s what my husband often ordered, or did I think a Viognier might be a better fit with this dish? Would I like to stay at home and take a bath, or venture out to a café with a newfound friend?
The more I began treating myself with the kindness and attentiveness I showed toward my husband and daughter, the more I got to know myself on a deeper, truer level, realizing how much of what I did and what I ate and how I acted was an act of either submission or compromise.
If you’re in a similar position, listen to your needs, honor your wants (within moderation), and tune in to what your heart is telling you. The more you take care of yourself, the better equipped you will be to deal with the conflicting emotions your newfound single status has likely stirred.
5. You will learn the art of a healthy inner monologue.
Marriage and motherhood don’t leave much room for listening to one’s inner voice—there’s enough noise as it is. Alone, I was introduced to a whole cast of inner players I had silenced out of necessity for years. Some of these voices were unkind—judgmental, condescending, or tempting me in unhealthy directions—but with time and practice, I learned to conduct inner dialogues that were loving, beneficial, and illuminating.
As you set out alone, give yourself the time and space to listen to the voices inside of you. Silencing those that are cold or self-sabotaging will allow you to hear the tenderness and determination of others. And, with time, you will cultivate an ability to listen to what is best for you—and the backbone needed to ignore all the rest.
6. You will find peace with your past.
Those first few months alone were ripe with recrimination. If only I’d done this; if only he’d done that. How could I have done this; how could I have done that? I was reprehensible, a failure, destined for a future of take-out alone and two too many cats. But, again, with time (a true salve for most things), I realized that the old adage is true: Everyone we meet comes into our lives for a reason.
My marriage was not so much a failure as it was a stepping stone on my journey. I had lost, but I had also learned.
If you’re bearing similar grief, consider compiling a list of what you have gained rather than focusing on what you’ve suffered; what you look forward to rather than what you miss.
If you’re anything like me, you’ll find that the greatest lesson of all is that the person you were looking for was right where they were supposed to be all along: within.
