Tiny Buddha

Tag: wisdom

  • Mind Over Melodrama: 5 Lessons on Self-Awareness and Healing

    Mind Over Melodrama: 5 Lessons on Self-Awareness and Healing

    Healing

    “Be what you are. This is the first step toward becoming better than you are.” ~Julius Charles Hare

    In a few months it will be the two and a half year anniversary of my mental breakdown.

    I don’t really celebrate the date, partially because I don’t know it—it’s not the sort of thing that you remember to mark on your calendar—and partially because my entire life since then has been a celebration of what I began to learn that night.

    I began to learn about myself.

    It’s been a wild ride of healing, helplessness, forgetting, and remembering. Many times, I felt like giving up and running back to drugs and alcohol, but I didn’t.

    Many times, I felt like bottling my emotions or lashing them out onto the closest victim, but I didn’t. Many times, I felt disgusted by my reflection and compelled to stop eating again, just for a day or two, so I could feel the sick freedom of an empty stomach, but I didn’t.

    I guess after you almost kill yourself, you just can’t go back to being the way you were. There’s something in your mind that says, “No, that didn’t work for ten years, and it won’t work now.”

    Honestly, self-awareness saved my life, and I have no doubt that this simple, consistent practice is as essential as exercising and eating well. I like to dream sometimes about what the world would look like if we all committed to knowing ourselves, and it’s beautiful. It really is. We’re beautiful.

    Without further ado, here are five life lessons I’ve learned from two years of healing my mind and reconnecting with myself.

    1. Self-awareness is self-love.

    About two weeks after I broke down, I was flipping through stacks of old journals, feverishly looking for patterns. What I found amazed me: epiphany after epiphany that I needed to love myself, to be my own best friend, to treat myself better.

    Those epiphanies never translated into action until I was forced to look at my reflection, raw and real. When I saw her, I loved her immediately.

    You cannot love someone you don’t know. In the end, that’s why so many people in our society don’t love themselves, or each other. Not because they don’t try, but because they don’t know themselves.

    Once you find who you are—who you really are—self-love is not an option. And neither is unconditional human love, for that matter, because once you find that spark of magic inside of you that makes your heart beat, you find that magic in all of us.

    2. Believing all your thoughts is a dangerous thing.

    I used to believe everything I thought. For a while, my thoughts told me that I was fat and ugly. Believing them destroyed my confidence. Then, my thoughts told me I needed drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes. Believing them destroyed my body.

    One day, my thoughts told me to kill myself. Believing them was almost the last thing I ever did.

    As human beings, we have this amazing capacity to conceptualize, analyze, and create stories in our heads. That capacity can be used to build spaceships and save the world. That same capacity can be used to harm ourselves and others.

    It’s not that I don’t think toxic thoughts anymore. Sometimes, I still get anxious, fearful, and insecure thoughts just like anyone else. The difference is that I constantly observe and question what I think.

    I make choices about what I believe is true. And that makes all the difference.

    3. There is no quick fix (and you don’t want one anyway).

    When I was in elementary school, I tried praying for a few months. I wasn’t sure if God existed, but I was willing to give it a try.

    I said, “Dear God, please make me wake up tomorrow having lost forty pounds, with no pimples, and my stretch marks disappeared. If you do, I’ll start going to church. Okay, thanks. I mean… Amen.”

    Needless to say, it never happened. About fifteen years later, I’m telling this story to someone and they point out how, if that did happen, my life would have been much worse. Showing up to school suddenly forty pounds lighter is a sure-fire one-day ticket to being a “Freak” (much faster than just being forty pounds overweight).

    I was amazed. How could I not have seen this?

    Now I know; back then, I only wanted a quick fix because I wasn’t doing anything about my problems. We only crave miraculous, effortless change when we’re not helping real change happen.

    I used to tell myself stories about how I didn’t want to change because it would hurt too much. Honestly, healing has hurt more than I can possibly relate, but you know what? It’s not the same pain.

    The pain of enduring obstacles on a path that you’ve decided to walk is absolutely nothing like the pain of being trapped in a situation you have no plan to escape. Nothing hurts like helplessness and stagnation. That’s what we actually don’t want.

    4. People who adored your mask probably won’t like your authentic self.

    This just baffled me when it first happened. When I was self-destructive, rude, jaded, and fake, people couldn’t get enough. When I showed my vulnerable, inspiration-hungry, sparkly-eyed self, most of those same people recoiled in horror.

    My first months of healing, I spent alone in an empty room watching TED talk after TED talk eating chocolate chips right out of the bag. I was alone, but somehow, I wasn’t lonely anymore.

    Nothing is lonelier than being with people who don’t understand you. Those who love a person in a mask are wearing their own masks. They’re putting on a play for everyone to see—terrified of who they are underneath.

    A person who chooses to be authentic around the masked will always be rejected, because the masked reject that part of themselves.

    Don’t worry. There are authentic, open, loving people waiting to meet someone just like you in your raw, vulnerable state. They’re just waiting for you to get off that stage.

    5. You are the world’s foremost expert on yourself.

    For a long time, I was looking for someone to tell me exactly what to do. I’d read a book and it would have an inspiring idea, but then the implications of that idea would make me feel uncomfortable. Still, I’d try it on. After months of struggling, I realized it just wouldn’t fit.

    This happened again and again.

    I thought there was something wrong with me because other people’s frameworks didn’t fit me like a glove. It wasn’t until I started helping other people that I realized, they’re not supposed to.

    Other people’s words can inspire us, inform us, and, at best, give us valuable frameworks within which to place our experiences. But how we fill in those gaps and connect those dots—that’s still up to us.

    Self-discovery is supposed to be messy and confusing. You’re supposed to feel like no one has the answers for you, because they don’t. You have the answers. At most, you need a guide to help you find those answers, and even then, you always have the final say.

    —

    These five lessons all came to me as epiphanies at first, but I never stop learning them. These truths continue to come to me in different words and different forms, as I apply them to myself and others, as I forget them just to remember them again and again.

    It’s not always sunshine and rainbows, but I always know there’s a way out of any darkness and I know that, even if I forget, everything is going to be okay. And that makes it all worth it.

    Woman in Tree Position image via Shutterstock

  • Developing Confidence Without Becoming Arrogant

    Developing Confidence Without Becoming Arrogant

    Shy Man

    “What you think of yourself is much more important than what people think of you.” ~Seneca

    I used to labor under the gross illusion that confidence was elusive, like a Sasquatch.

    Or fleeting, like a shooting star.

    It’s there for a moment, then poof! Gone.

    Did I dream it? 

    To deepen this illusion, I believed that only a select few were anointed with confidence by an unseen hand upon their birth (this same mysterious hand also granted natural athletic ability), leaving the rest of us to muddle through, solely reliant on glancing blows of confidence that would hopefully show up when desperately necessary.

    Time to do an oral report on The Louisiana Purchase? Let’s hope confidence decides to make a rare appearance—or I’m doomed behind that faux-wood podium!                 

    To further confuse matters, I believed that any acquired confidence was the result of validation and admiration from others.

    Perhaps this seed was planted when I heard the phrase: “Insert appropriate term here gave me/her/him confidence.”

    The idea that confidence is “given” I apparently took somewhat literally, because I spent years looking for it outside of myself.

    I know now that this is a fairly ridiculous passel of assumptions and just about as opposite of legitimate confidence as one can get.

    I also used to think that it took arrogance to be confident and that confidence and arrogance were just about one and the same.

    I didn’t have the first clue about how to be confident, and then as an added complication, I had a hang up around not even wanting to take confidence for a spin for fear of seeming arrogant.

    Who does she think she is?!

    My first big wake-up call to true confidence occurred twenty years ago in a small downtown bar in New York City.

    My friends invited me out to see a new band, yet I felt like a “tag along.”

    This, of course, was in my head due to the silly soap-opera story of outsider unworthiness I told myself. (Please refer to my previous post You Are Enough for more backstory.)

    In said band, one member also happened to be a well-known movie actor.

    It was a cold winter’s night and the bar was not crowded, so when the band’s set was over, the actor came over to say “hello.”

    He was very friendly and a stranger to most of us, except to the friend of my friends who initially extended the invitation. They worked together and were making introductions.

    He pleasantly greeted each of us one by one.

    I was last in line to shake his hand and by the time he got to me, I said in the lamest most dismissive downtrodden way imaginable, “I’m Alix.”

    But I might as well have said, “I’m an afterthought.”

    Or, “Bleh.”

    He pounced on me in the best possible way.

    “Now don’t say it like that!” he reproached.

    He then mimicked me, “’I’m Alix.”

    As he did so, he was looking me straight in the eyes, perfectly impersonating my shruggy sad-sack introduction.

    His manner was so charmingly disarming that I cracked up laughing.

    I couldn’t believe how I had come across!

    His impromptu coaching continued, “You have to say it more like, “I’M ALIX!” I mean, come on, YOU’RE Alix! I should be excited to meet YOU!”

    No one had ever spoken to me like this before and it woke me up to the cultivated patheticism that had hitherto dwelled in a broad blind spot in my unconscious.

    Then, Mr. Actor made me practice introducing myself again, this time with vigorous hand shaking and committed eye contact.

    As I engaged in the exercise, I could hardly keep a straight face.

    This guy was giving such an unexpected gift by showing me back to myself.

    With his light and humorous method, I immediately snapped out of my “no one wants to meet me” mindset.

    I was liberated.

    He taught me not only how to act confidently, but without realizing it, he revealed to me a clear way in which one can be confident without being arrogant.

    He was confident, but he also didn’t take himself seriously. He made me feel I mattered and took the time to let me know.

    This was a five-minute conversation that altered the course of my life.

    Ever since that snowy night, I have been consciously aware of the energy that I present to others.

    Present? Check.

    Eye contact? Check.

    Firm handshake? Check.

    Engaged? Check.

    Sincere? Check.

    After my no-confidence rehabilitation, I can tell you that I may not have always felt 100% confident in every single instance, but I decided to appear as though I did.

    This is the definition of “fake it ’til you make it.”

    I soon discovered that more I “acted” confident, the more authentically confident I felt.

    I finally felt worthy, and worthiness is the prime ingredient of true confidence.

    True confidence begins with, or I should say, within us.

    It isn’t about stuff like success, rewards, accolades, or (and this may be the most salient point) the perception of others. It’s about the perception we have about ourselves.

    Only we can “give” confidence to ourselves.

    And here is the big secret:

    If we embrace our own worthiness…

    Well, then we are worthy.

    It really is that simple.

    Now I didn’t (and don’t) go around bellowing, “I’M ALIX!!” to strangers, but I certainly no longer feel I have to apologize for showing up.

    I also recognize that since I come from a place of love and kindness, I probably will not be mistaken for being arrogant.

    And if I am, then I’m all right with that, since that is really about “them,” not me.

    I cannot, nor would I ever try, to control how others perceive me.

    How others see us is really up to them.

    Here is my mini-handbook to determine the differences between arrogance and confidence so you can feel confident that you’re not arrogant.

    Arrogance is a mask for insecurities.

    1. When people are covering their fears, they must work extra-hard to convince not only themselves, but everyone around them that they’re confident, instead of posturing.

    2. This kind of bravado is a guise created by the well-meaning, albeit a misguided ego to protect what it considers to be the fragile eco-system of the mind.

    3. Arrogance also always louder and more competitive than actual confidence, because it constantly fears for its survival.

    True confidence is quiet (think Ninja).

    1. This quiet is a result of honest self-evaluation, tough questions, and feeling worthy to be on the planet.

    2. Confidence, once developed, then means we can be cozy—I’m talking couch-like—comfortable in our own skin, where the once pesky ego is now on a constant vacation.

    3. True confidence is not competitive. In fact, it prefers to make space for others to speak their minds without feeling the need to jump in and course correct the conversation, the plan, or the route.

    4. True confidence also breeds contentment, because we no longer exhaust ourselves trying to prove things to others or ourselves. Phew!

    5. True confidence means that we continually enjoy our own company, because at the end of the metaphoric day, we’re the ones with whom we spend the most time.

    6. True confidence also means being willing to dork out, be uncool, and be yourself whenever and wherever necessary.

    I will be forever grateful to that friendly actor, who was so wonderfully confident in himself that he had no qualms about sparking true confidence within me.

    Shy man image via Shutterstock

  • Overcoming the Worst Part of Finding Your Passion

    Overcoming the Worst Part of Finding Your Passion

    Reach for the stars

    “You gain courage, strength and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face.” ~Eleanor Roosevelt

    Finding my passion made me fat.

    Not fat in an “I have to wear a Homer Simpson Mumu” kind of way, but in an “I eat cookies and chocolate all the time and I’m not sure what happened to my muscle. Oh, and these pants, they don’t really fit anymore” kind of way.

    I always was a stress-eater. Not early in my life, but as soon as I arrived, confused and distracted, into the world of corporate America.

    I ended up being a consultant after merrily traveling the world and earning an international Masters Degree. But, tired of being poor and rained on (I lived in Belgium for awhile), I headed back to the East Coast and into an office. That’s when the stress eating started. And it stayed with me for years.

    I managed, through a lack of grocery shopping and the occasional bad break-up, to control my weight despite a ready influx of cookies and cupcakes that always seemed to find me. But I thought to myself, “Okay, I’m eating like this because I’m unhappy and bored at work. As soon as I find my passion, I’ll be really svelte and trim. No worries.”

    I spent years on the quest to figure it all out, dreaming about finding a career that required wearing a tiara and spending time at the pool, and complaining about how I’d be stuck in my day job forever.

    Finally, I really did start to find my way. I thought about a few career fields that fit with my interest in helping people with their careers, and explored them. After attending a weekend on coaching, I was hooked. I knew career coaching in some form was my destination; I just had to get there.

    So, I got certified as a coach.

    I set up a website.

    And, I finally quit my job.

    And that’s when the stress eating really happened. Terrified about being without benefits, a steady paycheck, and a pretty fancy title for the first time in a long time, I panicked. Hard.

    Cookies and ice cream and chocolate couldn’t do enough for me. They filled a void that I hadn’t even seen coming. And I ate. And ate. And then took naps because my blood sugar was out of control.

    I was locked in a crazy cycle of eating, sleeping, and worrying—and I was terrified. I had found my passion after all, right? How could I be feeling worse than I did when I was consulting?

    Every time I felt afraid, I ate.

    And then I realized: every time I felt afraid…I ate.

    I was literally eating my fear.

    And that’s when I took myself out for a walk. Sitting and worrying and staying in my head was doing nothing for me. I had to try something else. Walking seemed as good an idea as any.

    As I walked, I asked my heart this question: “Is this the right path for me?”

    And then I kept walking, took deep breaths, focused inward on my heart, and listened.

    As much as I was hoping for a “Yes! And here are three things to do right now to feel better,” what I got instead was a feeling of peace and certainty.

    I was on the right path; I just had to put down the cookie and feel my fear instead of eating it.

    I went back home and thought about all of the things I wanted to do with my life, even though they felt terrifying. Things like moving to a place on the ocean, traveling more, and only working with individuals and not companies.

    I put together a list of everything I thought I should do, even though I felt weighed down by these ideas. Things like buying a home in my current location, working for anyone who would pay me, and traveling less and saving money.

    Then I threw away that second list. I was determined to live life on my own terms, no matter how scary.

    And I’ve never looked back.

    So now it’s a few years later, and I did move from DC to San Francisco, I only work with cool people instead of big companies, and I’m kind of excited for my next trip… to Oregon. I know, nearby, but I’ve never been!

    For me, the worst thing about finding my passion was the fear. The best thing about finding my passion was facing down my fears and embracing what I really want.

    I still feel them, but they have less power over me now, and I don’t think I’d have the kind of success I do now without having taken a leap of faith and truly listened to my heart.

    Struggling with fears around your passion? Here’s how to stop.

    1. Get your body involved.

    Go and do something that relaxes you and brings you some peace. Walking, yoga, crafts, fishing, sitting in the sun—do whatever you love to do. It’s time to get out of your head so you can hear what’s inside your heart.

    2. As you do it, ask your heart: Is my passion the right path for me?

    Take a few breaths, and focus inward. See what you feel in your heart.

    3. Write it out.

    Go home, and make a list of everything you want to do related to your passion, no matter how scary, and why it’s important to you. Now make a list of everything you think you should do instead. Throw the second list away.

    4. Remember that feeling in your heart, and pick one thing on your list of wants.

    Now plan how you will do it. You only need to take one step to start the journey, and with every step you take the less afraid you will be. You can do this!

    Reach for the stars image via Shutterstock

  • Life Is Like a Road Trip

    Life Is Like a Road Trip

    Life is like a road trip

    Source

  • Ending a Toxic Relationship: When It’s Time to Say “No More”

    Ending a Toxic Relationship: When It’s Time to Say “No More”

    No More

    “Worry less, smile more. Don’t regret, just learn and grow.” ~Unknown

    The day finally came when my heart was strong enough to speak up.

    I had spent many years trying to be the calm, sensible one. The one who would try to rationalize my sister’s behavior just to keep the peace.

    For years the strategy was to keep everything in its place and accept what was said, done, or requested. The day finally came when the weight of accepting the burden was too much to bear.

    No amount of talking would convince my sister that I was being reasonable. It had to be her way. It had to be acknowledged that I had somehow erred, when in fact it was her very own thoughts that had caused her pain.

    So, no more, I decided then and there.

    “I am done. We are both far too dysfunctional to be in each other’s lives. I wish you all the best… You can blame me…This is what I want.” With those words I gave up on our relationship.

    The feeling of freedom rose. The confidence from finally taking a stand was a trophy I now held proudly. “Well done!” I cheered. I no longer had to deal with accusations. Hooray! I was now in charge. I was the creator of my life.

    Then, ever so slowly, it started to shift. Ever so gently the doubts crept in. Old scripts started playing. The mind was reverting back to old default programs.

    We had both suffered as children. Our parents had been abusive in many ways. We never told anyone what happened in our home. We believed we had to protect our parents.

    I became the surrogate parent. We both accepted that our parents did not know any better, doing to us what had been done to them. We allowed them to continue in our lives as adults.

    My sister was the first to end contact with our parents. I was convinced I was enlightened enough that I could save them. All that ended the night I found myself terrified, at a police station, explaining why I thought my father was about to come to my home and hurt me.

    That night I spoke the truth. That night I heard my mother speak another lie to protect my father. That night I said “no more” to my parents.

    That was an end I could justify. I had to find help to get through the flood of emotions that threatened to drown me. Among the consolations was the fact that I still had my sister. Nobody else understood what we had gone through.

    Now, however, I began to doubt my bravery. My sister and I were supposed to be there for each other until the very end.

    I worried that I had made a terrible mistake. My view of who I was had shifted. I was no longer the savior. I was no longer the protector. I was no longer the one who got along with everybody.

    I saw myself as abandoning my sister. How could I have been so mean? How could I just end it like that? I was a terrible person!

    The pain was intense. The anger, the hurt, the bitterness all began to choke my life. Overwhelmingly, they tortured my soul.

    Years of buried resentment began to rise up like icebergs slowly breaking the surface from their depths. The feelings, once anchored to my core, were now exposed to reveal infected open wounds.

    I cried. I screamed. I read. I meditated. I yelled. I punched. I got angry. I journaled. What was wrong with me? I had always held it together. To witness myself unravelling was terrifying.

    Dark and ugly thoughts plagued me. Driving was now an opportunity to vent. I was safe in my car; I could blast my horn, I could utter every imaginable swear word, and I could find fault with every driver’s technique.

    I was a person possessed by anger and looking for a way to punish.

    My daily meditation seemed to go nowhere. I connected to the universe. I begged for help.

    I had persevered with the early morning practice for months, when one morning I suddenly realized that my sister was no longer the first thought of my day. That was new. Then ever so slowly, other thoughts began disappearing.

    There was a gentle loving energy helping me to create new thoughts to replace the old. I was okay. I am okay. Everything will be okay.

    It was an inexplicably subtle process that I was convinced was not working when, on another ordinary day, I realized I was waking up okay.

    Realizations began emerging. It was fair for me to end the discussion. No amount of talking was going to change my sister’s mind. Years of role-playing had created an expectation that I was to be at fault.

    By speaking up, I was positioning myself as a priority. I was no longer willing to rate myself last. I deserved better, and I now saw that I had made the perfect decision for me.

    Another realization soon came to mind: “You can blame me.” Those were the words I was most angry about. Those words came out of my mouth. I was mad at myself. I was mad that I had given my sister a reason to ignore her role in our story.

    That had always been my go-to solution. Take on the blame to keep the peace.

    When that was done, everything would go back to the way it was. We could live a fantasy life of closeness, all the while not realizing that I was slowly breaking my own heart.

    This was the lesson I was now being shown. I had to learn to speak up when I did not agree. I had to learn to take responsibility for my role in allowing it to be that way.

    I had wanted my sister to love me and to make me feel important and needed. For this I had paid an expensive price. My sister, I realized, played her role to perfection in allowing me to wake up to this truth.

    A few weeks later another realization came to mind: Silently, we had both blamed each other for parts of our pain. We were two damaged souls trying to live our lives with massive wounds in our hearts.

    We could not give each other what we did not have. We did not know how to love each other without the past tearing open the old wounds.

    I realized that I was not a terrible person for making a decision that was in my best interest. No one should be given an automatic pass into your life, regardless of their title.

    It is actually a privilege that should be honored and treated with respect. The lesson may be painful, but if you find some way through the hurt, a better future awaits.

    Each new morning brings a little more light. The universe continues to coax me to take another step away from the ledge of my past. I realize that the heartbreak I felt was a dissolving of me into a million tiny molecules before the gentle re-sculpting of those atoms into a more open and peaceful me.

    Is it time for you to speak up? Is it time for you to find the courage to say “No more”?

    Woman on the rocks image via Shutterstock

  • When Someone Blames You: How to Cope with Misdirected Anger

    When Someone Blames You: How to Cope with Misdirected Anger

    Blaming man

    “Life becomes easier when you learn to accept an apology you never got.” ~Robert Brault

    My ex-boyfriend is angry with me.

    I met him soon after he had broken up with his then fiancée, and he thought he was ready to move on, but wasn’t. After many months of messing me about, we ended it. I cut off contact because it still hurt me and I still cared for him.

    Eventually, I wrote to him to see if I could get some closure and to consider if we could salvage a friendship. His reply was scathing, vitriolic, angry. He blamed me for the fact that his ex-fiancée would not give him another chance.

    Yet, he had made those decisions. He insisted that it was my fault, and that I had cost him everything, despite the fact that all I had done was support him and respond to his interest in me. I hadn’t even known him before their breakup.

    Beyond that, we had also been, I had thought, really good friends that had connected on a level that is rare to come across in life. It hurt that the person I thought I had connected with like this now felt so much anger and hate toward me.

    It was difficult not to be affected by that, and it hurt me deeply. I fell into a bit of a depression, and even though I knew I hadn’t done anything to warrant such vicious verbal attacks, I still questioned myself and my actions.

    Maybe I did deserve his anger. Maybe I was worthy of hatred.

    Then it dawned on me. This was not my issue. This was his issue and his inability to accept responsibility for his choices. I had not wanted nor asked for any of it! But how was I going to disentangle myself from the hate he was sending my way? I came to rely on five things.

    1.Know your truth.

    I know deep down that I am not the person he sees me as, that I did not set out to ever hurt or destroy him, that I gave so much more than most would have given to a relationship that was not good for me.

    I know that I am a good person. I know with certainty that his anger is misdirected; it’s not my truth. I’m honest with myself to a fault, and I take on what I deserve to and accept blame and mistakes when I make them. This was not my mistake to accept.

    2. Accept that people won’t see your reality.

    People won’t always see things the way that you do. You cannot make someone see what you believe to be a rational truth, nor will you see it from their point of view. Don’t try to; accept that we all think differently.

    3. Let go.

    It’s not worth your constant wondering and worrying. It isn’t good for you to hold onto it and over-analyze it. Let it go; visualise yourself blowing it all into a balloon, tying it off, and letting it drift away. Feel lighter because of it!

    4. Remember, all actions are based in either fear or love.

    Base yours in love. Realize their actions are based in fear. Often, these fears are ones that no one can reach because they are too deep-seated for the person to acknowledge. Accept that, and continue to operate from your own base of love.

    5. Surround yourself with people and things that make your soul sing.

    Let the angry be angry. Don’t let yourself live that way, and don’t deprive yourself of the things that make you happy because you’re giving time to something out of your control.

    See friends, indulge in books or art or physical activity—whatever makes you feel good. You’re not who they think you are; you’re a good person who deserves to live a bountiful, peaceful, happy life. Go and get it!

    Arguing couple image via Shutterstock

  • Love Shows Up When You Do

    Love Shows Up When You Do

    Love

    “Slow down and everything you are chasing will come around and catch you.” ~John de Paola

    After six months of being single after my divorce, I wanted to date again. I was still afraid of failure and rejection, but I wanted to try. I felt the best way to get over it was to dedicate my time to finding someone new.

    I didn’t know where to begin, but I knew I had a clearer understanding of what I wanted in a relationship. I definitely knew what I didn’t want in a relationship. I thought if I could just find someone with the right qualities, happiness would follow.

    I made a long list of qualities I desired in a man. I signed up on internet dating sites and asked friends to set me up on blind dates. I thought I could get what I wanted by playing the odds, like sending out 100 resumes for a job hoping one company would call back.

    I felt I had learned from my past mistakes and was impatient to find true love. Six months later, after a string of bad dates, I was no closer to finding the love I desired and the whiff of desperation seeped from my pores.

    I started to feel like maybe there really wasn’t anyone out there for me. So, I decided to stop chasing. I began to take care of myself. I decided to be the person I was looking for while at the same time, creating a way for the right man to find me.

    I decided to remove all the clutter from my home and my mind. I threw out boxes and bags of clothes and objects that represented the old me. I wrote daily gratitude lists and stopped thinking about what I didn’t have.

    I started going out to movies alone. I found new restaurants to try. I took long hikes in the woods.

    Once I took my focus off finding the right person, I started to find myself. I could sit for hours on my back porch reading a novel. I would buy myself chocolates and flowers for Valentine’s Day.

    Once I was providing for all of my own needs, I started to smile again. This wasn’t a race—it was my life. I intended to enjoy every moment of it, with or without someone by my side.

    Around this time, I started to think about finding some new friends. I lost half of my friends during my divorce. I was looking for positive people to hang out with that would be interested in the same things I liked to do.

    I started joining book clubs and meetup groups. I went to exercise classes and asked coworkers out for drinks. I started accepting invitations to parties.

    Meanwhile, I still meditated. I still read on the porch and I stopped looking at internet dating sites. I just wanted to have a good time and find some friendly people my age.

    I wasn’t having a lot of luck in the friend department, though. It seemed like I was in a strange age group. When I joined clubs, most of the members were either a decade older or younger than me.

    I wondered why no one my age seemed to go out. I reasoned they must be busy with parenting and working a lot like most people in their thirties and forties. I just wasn’t finding people my age.

    Then one day, sitting around the house doing absolutely nothing, I had an epiphany—I would start a group for people my age to meet and find friends!

    At the second meeting of my group, my future husband walked in the door. I knew I would marry him the second I saw him. And yes, he has most of the qualities on that original list.

    If you’re looking for love and feeling like time is running out, slow down. Breathe, go buy yourself some flowers, and stop trying so hard. Love comes to those who are at peace with who they are.

    Here are some tips for cultivating love while you wait for it to find you:

    1. If you build it, they will come.

    If you can’t find what you’re looking for, create a way for it to find you. I created a meetup group for people my age so I could meet friends in a casual atmosphere.

    2. Be the person you’re looking for.

    The best way to find love is to love you. Spend time exercising, meditating, and cultivating your self-esteem. When the right person does show up, a calm confidence will be far more attractive than fear and anxiety.

    3. Stop and smell the roses.

    It’s not a marathon. You’re looking for the best person to show up, not the first person to show up. When’s the last time you found someone who seemed panicked attractive?

    4. It’s okay to dine alone.

    Many people are afraid to do “couple” things alone. Try going to a play by yourself. You can really have a good time just enjoying your own company.

    Take action toward your dreams, but then step back and let those conditions manifest. Enjoy life and give yourself what you need instead of waiting for someone to give it to you. Meet each day with gratitude and joy in what you do have, and what you wish for will find its way to you.

    Love image via Shutterstock

  • How to Deal with Criticism Well: 25 Reasons to Embrace It

    How to Deal with Criticism Well: 25 Reasons to Embrace It

    “Criticism is something you can easily avoid by saying nothing, doing nothing, and being nothing.” ~Aristotle

    At the end of the day, when I feel completely exhausted, it often has nothing to do with all the things I’ve done.

    It’s not a consequence of juggling multiple responsibilities and projects. It’s not my body’s way of punishing me for becoming a late-life jogger after a period of laziness. It’s not even about getting too little sleep.

    When I’m exhausted, you can be sure I’ve bent over backward trying to win everyone’s approval. I’ve obsessed over what people think of me, I’ve assigned speculative and usually inaccurate meanings to feedback I’ve received, and I’ve lost myself in negative thoughts about criticism and its merit.

    I work at minimizing this type of behavior, and I’ve had success for the most part, but admittedly, it’s not easy. (more…)

  • We Can Be Happy Despite Pain from Our Past

    We Can Be Happy Despite Pain from Our Past

    Grateful

    “Think of all the beauty that is still left in and around you and be happy.” ~Anne Frank

    At first glance, the happiest person I’ve ever met appeared to be a simple man. There didn’t seem to be anything particularly sophisticated or spiritual about him.

    Srulik was five-feet tall, with a big round belly and a wide smile permanently plastered on his face. He enjoyed the small things in life: a good joke, a familiar television show, a wholesome meal. He radiated such joy, and was so unassuming in his demeanor that one would assume he was blessed with an equally simple and joyful life.

    Many years ago, when I was only ten years old, I remember coming home one day particularly distraught.

    My class had just learned about the Nazi Holocaust. At the sink, my mother was washing dishes. I started telling her about what I’d learned in school, when she gently cut me off and, in a matter-of-fact kind of way, said, “Oh, your grandfather is a survivor. You should talk to him about it.”

    “Wait, which one?” I asked.

    “Grandpa Srulik,” she answered as she continued scrubbing a pot.

    I was flabbergasted. What? Him of all people? How could that be? He is always so happy. It just didn’t make any sense.

    I was only a child, and yet I could feel that something out of the ordinary was happening here.

    Later I learned that, indeed, volumes of psychological research confirms that a difficult past leads to a difficult future.

    No need to go as far as the Holocaust. Common problems we suffer in times of peace and plenty, such as bullying and poor attachment to our parents, can have serious psychological consequences, preventing us from enjoying our lives many years after the problems go away.

    Veterans often suffer from severe post-traumatic stress, and Holocaust survivors in particular are known to suffer from a wide array of emotional problems after the unspeakable horrors that they suffered. Who would expect anything else?

    And yet, there was my grandfather, happy as ever—smiling, telling jokes, and laughing his heart out. I had to know what enabled him to survive so wholly.

    “How do you manage to stay so happy?” I said during one of our conversations.

    “You need to learn to be happy from any success,” he told me. “Any success at all. When some misfortune happens, we need to view it with humor and think of it as temporary. Think of something else.”

    “I view everything with optimism, it’s very important,” he added later.

    His secrets boiled down to gratitude, the power of positive thinking, and optimism. I must admit, I have heard it all before. But, suddenly I saw it in a whole new way. Can things such as gratitude and optimism help us overcome even the most tragic of traumas? How powerful are these principles?

    When Grandpa Srulik was ten years old, the Nazis came into the Polish town of Nowosiolki, and gathered up his family—the only Jewish family in town.

    With the entire town watching, a Nazi pushed Srulik’s father against the brick wall of his house. Then, the Nazi grabbed hold of his mother and pushed her hard against the wall. Next, he did the same to his brother.

    Realizing that he was next, Srulik picked up his heals and ran as fast as he could through the thick crowd surrounding his house. Behind the river across from his house, he suddenly realized that he was alone. He had escaped the Nazis. He decided to hide in the bushed until morning before returning home.

    The next morning, Srulik overheard three women doing laundry in the river. This is when he learned that, the previous night, his mother, father, and brother were shot dead into a hole in the ground. Devastated, utterly alone, and on the run from a powerful enemy, he tearfully mourned their loss.

    Yet through this pain, he never lost hope. He shared with me that even in that terrible moment, he believed with all of his heart that he would find a way through this challenge, monumental as it was.

    But, things got worse before they got better. Several weeks later, Srulik was discovered and imprisoned in a Nazi ghetto.

    There, he saw Nazis throwing live infants against walls and witnessed the murder of thousands of innocent people every day. He nearly died from starvation and disease, and narrowly escaped the Nazis’ bullets on numerous occasions.

    Against all odds, optimism carried Srulik through this unimaginable horror. Every day, he told himself that the Nazis would be defeated and he would be free.

    Through the years he spent running and hiding from the Nazis, Srulik never forgot to be grateful for the small rays of light that lit his path.

    He recalled with delight the wonderful homemade pickles that a young Polish woman gave with him when he had nothing. He never forgot the kindness of a German cook, who, instead of reporting him to the authorities, shared his delicious soup.

    Srulik held onto his positive attitude for years after the war. He was grateful for all the kind people he had met along the way, the orphanage that took him in, and the opportunities he had to earn an education.

    Until his last day, Grandpa was able to find something positive in every situation. “Even good weather counts,” he taught me.

    Despite an incredibly difficult past, Srulik grew up to be a joyful, contagiously positive man. Having had the most difficult past of anyone I’d ever known, my grandpa was, and still is, without a shred of doubt, the happiest person I’ve ever met.

    If gratitude, positive thinking, and optimism helped him lead a happy life, then imagine what these principles can do for the rest of us. Surely, there is hope for all of us, no matter what lies in our past.

    Man with raised hands image via Shutterstock 

  • 10 Ways to Let Go and Open Up to Love Again

    10 Ways to Let Go and Open Up to Love Again

    Love

    “A thousand half-loves must be forsaken to take one whole heart home.” ~Rumi

    When I met my first love, my dull black and white life became as bright as a double rainbow. The intense hues of love flooded over me with extreme joy and happiness.

    Soon after meeting, we married and lived together for ten years. Yet, like rainbows and raindrops, our love evaporated and I took our divorce especially hard, soaking in self-pity and sadness while grieving for the past several years.

    After experiencing a painful breakup, you never, ever want to be in a relationship again. A broken heart and pained soul wants to give up on love altogether.

    Why put yourself through so much pain and suffering for a love that hurts and could end?

    The reason to give love another shot, I’ve learned, is that by loving better and deeper, we become even more whole. Our hurt and tears clear the fog around our heart and illuminate the soul.

    The journey to love is a journey to one’s self, your highest, most sacred and loving self.

    There are plenty of obstacles keeping us from loving again. Sad to say, I’ve experienced them all.

    Here are ten way to let go of the obstacles preventing you from having love in your life.

    1. Let go of pain.

    You can’t let go of pain by resisting it. You could avoid the pain for some time, but in order to move on you must fully embrace the pain.

    Embracing the pain means experiencing loss, sadness, and grief. As difficult as it might be, allow the tears to flow and share your experience with your friends and family.

    Write down your feelings and come to terms with the emotions you’re going through.

    Instead of judging yourself harshly for your feelings, wash yourself in compassion for finding the strength to move through your pain.

    2. Let go of trespasses.

    When you break up, you feel like you want to blame everyone for causing your heartache. This includes not just your ex, but also their parents, your parents, their friends, your friends, and everyone in between.

    The only way to stop blaming others is to forgive them. No matter how grave the offense or how unacceptable their behavior, your healing starts when you let go of the gripe. Yes, it was unfair; yes, it was unjust; and yes, they did you wrong. But there’s nothing to be done now but forgive.

    Forgive people, because they, like us, have many imperfections. They know not what they do. They don’t live up to our expectations and have had difficult pasts that we may not understand fully.

    3. Let go of bitterness.

    The way to let go of bitterness toward others is to think of the many positive qualities and experiences you’ve had with them.

    Your ex is not an evil person; they just weren’t the best person for you.

    Instead of being stuck on their flaws and wrongdoings, allow the power of forgiveness to overlook what they’ve ‘done’ to you. Look at what good they’ve done, how much they’ve helped you be a better person, and the happy times you had together.

    Remind yourself of their redeeming qualities. See their light.

    4. Let go of resentments.

    We let go of self-pity and resentments by being more grateful.

    Not only be thankful to your ex and the relationship you shared, but start living a life filled with gratefulness.

    Notice the small things and the big things that are constantly occurring around you.

    Appreciate the kind gesture, the words of encouragement, and the favorable circumstances that unfold in your life.

    Making a small gratitude list as you start or end the day can help you move from focusing on resentments to focusing on thankfulness.

    5. Let go comparing yourself to others.

    What I’ve learned is that no relationship is perfect, and most relationships look good from the outside. Comparing your relationship to others isn’t very constructive.

    Once again, transform bitterness toward others to gratefulness that others have found love in their lives. If others have found love, let that be a message of hope and possibility for you.

    We are each on our own journeys to better understanding ourselves and loving better. Our journey is independent of anyone else’s.

    Your day will come. Your broken love and loss are the seeds of true love.

    6. Let go of expectations.

    We’ve grown up to expect a lot of things to turn out a certain way. But like the weather and weather reports, you can’t count on sunny and bright all the time.

    If we can’t expect good weather, we sure can’t expect a perfect love or a partner to behave a certain way.

    The way to be happy in and out of relationships is to let go of expectations and conditions.

    Your Mr. or Mrs. Right isn’t a certain height, a certain profession, or a specific personality.

    Be open to the magic of possibilities.

    7. Let go of resistance.

    Although love can be painful and heart-breaking, be willing to open your heart anyway.

    Be open to meeting new people, be open to being vulnerable, and be open to falling in love again.

    Love can only bloom if you’re open to love in your life. Set the intention for love to enter again.

    8. Let go of being tough.

    I know the feeling well. “The stronger and more closed I am to others, the less likely someone else will hurt me again.”

    If you close your heart and feelings to others, you may avoid pain, but you’ll also miss out on happiness and joy.

    Seek to be your most honest self. Instead of hiding behind a cloak of someone you’re not, be yourself in the world, which will only make you more attractive.

    By being true to yourself, you’ll also attract people who are better suited for you.

    Being vulnerable means being honest about your shortcomings and sharing your feelings. It’s choosing honesty over trying to look good.

    9. Let go of telling the same story over and over.

    You want to tell the same sad story repeatedly to friends—a love gone wrong, a love soured, a love that fell apart.

    What if that story simply wasn’t true?

    There are many perspectives and stories in every relationship. Are you holding onto a story of resentment and bitterness?

    Are you willing to see a different story? A different perspective?

    Could the lost love have helped you grow? Heal some part of yourself? Learn about an open wound?

    Is the story you’re telling yourself blocking love from entering your life again?

    10. Let go of fear.

    The way to let go of fear is to recognize and embrace it.

    How is fear holding you back? Is it keeping you stuck from living the life you want or the love you desire?

    Call fear out for what it is. What is the worst that can happen if this fear came true? How likely is it that this fear will come true? Have you overcome fears like this in your past?

    When you confront fear and acknowledge it for what it is, you can have an honest conversation with fear.

    Ultimately, a partner is a mirror and guide to help you complete the journey to your truest self. Even if you break up with them, they can be a conduit to healing and being made whole.

    Let go of your blocks keeping you from experiencing joy. Let go and choose love again.

    Couple with flashlight hearts image via Shutterstock

  • Finding Kindred Spirits by Honoring Your Inner Misfit

    Finding Kindred Spirits by Honoring Your Inner Misfit

    Friends

    “The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself.” ~Anna Quindlen

    It should theoretically be simple but being authentic is not easy. It takes gumption to assert with courageous conviction “This is me!” and grace to accept what comes after.

    From my first discordant bear cry in a nursery full of normally crying babies, I was different, quirky. My own way of doing things—dresses over jeans, art over sports—made me an early outcast. Nothing I naturally did fit me within my particular society.

    For a while, during a specific section of years, in order not to be misfit, I conformed completely. I lost not only the misfit but also myself, and with each false friendship, however popular, my spirit gradually disintegrated.

    I forgot the organic, things that for me bring me into alignment—nature, certain family members, words, a childhood best friend—while weekend hazes fizzled my concept of identity. In a fog of boozy, belligerent moments, I grasped for something substantial, some shred of tenderness, but nothing was there.

    Various events cleared the fog enough so I could see the way out—alternative schooling, a trip abroad, college. And out I ran. In the clearing of my twenties I realized popularity was the false idol of an insecure twelve year old. Older, I felt free to reject others and accept myself.

    I have devoted this decade to the integration of all my fractured shards. The process of authentic self-resurrection is like solving a puzzling mystery—examine the evidence, look for clues, decipher what is real and what has falsely been accepted to cover up excruciating truths, reach a conclusion.

    My conclusion is that I am most decidedly a misfit. I have not, do not, will not fit.

    I want winnowed “friend” lists, not 1,000+ and counting, a core group of loved ones, where reciprocity is the foundation—of kindness, respect, intimacy, and sharing. I want Saturday night curled up on a chaise with a stack of board games and a bowl of pasta, Sunday brunch with the seagulls.    

    I am an adult who likes stickers, who prefers a bird call to the drone of a machine. I am more comfortable in the company of older people, Disney still makes me smile, and I never feel more alive than when I am dancing with the wind.

    Energy and time are precious gifts. We do not all get a hundred years; some of us die before we take our first breath, others at six, twelve, thirty-one, fifty-eight, or seventy-four. I have bargained with Death during decades of ill health, so I know how precarious Life is. How brief.

    I do not want to misspend on dangerous entanglements what little time I have, to invest where there is little or no reciprocity, or where I feel unsafe. There are enough worthy recipients; I have especially learned that this year, so it is on these nourishing relationships that I focus.

    During a crippling period of sickness, one where I was completely dependent on others—for a bath, or a sandwich—I was humbled. It is easy to take for granted the use of legs, that we have twenty-eight teeth and five senses.

    I have learned this lesson repeatedly but when I literally could not move without collapsing, my days spent almost entirely alone, inside, I had little else I could to but consider not only the why my circumstances were such but also the who, as it was me I had for company.

    What helped me clarify my authentic self during this time of healing? A notepad and pen. These household items helped me synthesize into simple lists decades of self-examination:

    • Who unyieldingly matters to me?
    • Who do I feel cares deeply about me (during the light and shadow times, when I am healthy and sick)?
    • What do I most and least enjoy?
    • What dreams am I passionate about enough to pursue?
    • What are my flaws?
    • What are my strengths?
    • If this were my last day, moment, would I be sad or happy with my choices?

    The lists, because they were succinct, showed me essential truths.

    I saw someone who dreams sometimes more than they act, who around certain types of people gets weak, someone who can be melancholy, who agonizes, who needs to laugh more. But I also saw empathy, intelligence, a free spirit, a musical, imaginative, loving explorer.

    I saw real—shadowy and flawed, light and strong. I saw popular—with myself.

    I also saw a letter writer. Since I’m an old-fashioned soul, who still listens to records, who prefers the twitter of birds, it is no surprise the unfettered scrawl of my pen to an eager recipient excites and nourishes me. Others say this is a flaw; that I need to catch up with modern culture. I say not.

    Before last year this desire was dormant. I had stashes of stationary stored high on closet shelves, stickers and stamps collected and unused, scattered in drawers and stuffed into boxes. I feel more complete since owning and passionately pursuing this previously invalidated aspect of myself.

    Because I prioritized reflection, and went within to my most gnarly corners, I found something hidden, something incandescent, a forgotten romance, a creative reservoir for deep connection.

    My lists showed me the way to myself, then to a community of like-spirited souls. I listened with my pen, I recorded the words, and I heeded their wisdom. Via Interpals and the Letter Writer’s Alliance, I found in places as diverse as England, New Zealand, Russia, Austria, Slovenia, Canada, and Denmark, others who wanted authentic connection.

    These snail mail relationships are based on reciprocity, on honest, open exchanges. To with the hand intimate the what, where, why, when, and how, to take the time to stamp into an envelope a careful selection of thoughts, sorrows, and hopes, is not only to harken back to a time when this practice was regular, but to decipher profoundly what it means to live, and to connect.

    The status of a person cannot be confined to a certain number of words on a briefly scanned page. We are more complex than that. We deserve more attention, and to attend more thoroughly to others.

    Letters taken seriously are generous that way. We ask questions in letters, and lazy words like “I don’t know,” “Anyways,” “It is what it is,” and “Fine” do not merit a stamp, nor do they fill a page.

    My friend asks me to sum myself up in one word and I have to stop and consider not only the genesis and evolution of my story, but the magnificent supply of words I have to choose from. When “quirky” proudly surfaces it fits. And I am no longer misfit in her company.

    My grandpa said we should consider ourselves lucky if, at the end of our lives, we can count on one hand our genuine relationships. These are soul-level authentic connections, those we can be imperfect and honest with, the people who do not want our tears hidden or our smiles false.

    Use your imagination to honor the misfit within. List your truths, make them visible, and see what parts of your honest identity you have stashed away on high shelves. I might be a quirky letter writer, you an eccentric dancer, but as long as we are real with ourselves and others, how can we be wrong?

    Happy people dancing image via Shutterstock

  • How to Hear Your Intuition When You Don’t Know What to Do

    How to Hear Your Intuition When You Don’t Know What to Do

    Confused Man

    “Your mind will answer most questions if you learn to relax and wait for the answer.” ~William S. Burroughs

    Sitting in my office, I stared at the email in front of me.

    My heart sank.

    All energy and joy left me, to be replaced with confusion, anxiety, and a deep sense of frustration.

    As adrenalin rushed through my veins, one question engulfed my mind leaving little room for the answer.

    What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?

    I just didn’t know.

    The email was from a client. Someone who I had worked with for a long time. Someone who wasn’t listening to me. Someone who was causing me unhappiness.

    And as I re-read the email, I knew I had to make a decision.

    Could I deal with this any longer? The demands, the lack of control, the sharp tone that always seemed so unnecessary.

    Or did I have to stick it out? Put up with those feelings, just get on with the work and do the best I could? I needed the money, after all. Cash was tight—could I survive without this client?

    What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? 

    And then, in that one moment in time, it became clear exactly what I needed to do. I needed to step away from the computer. I needed to get outside. And I needed to breathe.

    So that’s exactly what I did.

    Twenty-four hours later, I was on the phone explaining to my client that I didn’t feel we were right for each other anymore. That we needed to bring things to a close. That it was time for me to move on.

    And move on I certainly did.

    That day when I stepped outside and went for a walk, I found peace and quiet, a sense of calm understanding, and most importantly, a moment of absolute pure clarity.

    My intuition spoke. And I listened to her.

    I realized that I had to remove myself from the situation that was causing me so much distress. Forcing myself to continue was no longer an option; it was not what my body and soul needed. Instead, I needed to follow my heart.

    And so, I let go of that client along with all those negative feelings. And I created space.

    Space for new people. New places. And new experiences.

    And do you know what? Once I made that decision, it was like an enormous weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

    My energy and joy returned to me in abundance, and I knew with absolute certainty that I had made the right decision.

    Once again, my intuition had guided me. And she hadn’t let me down.

    Tuning into your intuition during troubled times can be difficult. With so much noise, information, and clutter within the world, our thoughts can often be clouded with distractions.

    However, there are lots of ways that you can help your intuitive voice find its way to you. Just follow the tips below.

    Step away from the situation.

    I’ve found that during these times the best thing you can do is allow yourself some breathing space.

    Stand up and go for a long walk, head out into the wilderness, browse some antique shops, meditate, sit with a coffee and watch the world go by. Whatever you love doing, whatever calms you, now is the time to do it.

    Find some quiet space to let your mind wander, and your intuitive voice will have a far greater chance of being heard.

    Be honest with yourself.

    It can sometimes be very easy to ignore your feelings and push them away.

    We might push those gut feelings aside and take what may seem like the easier option because we’re afraid of failure, changing direction, and saying no.

    However, ultimately this is about your happiness. And if something doesn’t feel right, then maybe it’s time for a change.

    Be honest with yourself and acknowledge those unsettled feelings; they are there to guide and support you. Listen to them.

    Turn to your journal.

    I have found writing in a journal to be an incredible method for tuning into my intuition.

    Acting as a safe space to release emotions, work through problems, and process my thoughts, it can allow for greater self-discovery and understanding.

    Next time you are having difficulty making a decision, pick up a pen and some paper and let the words flow out of you. Reflect on the situation, explore those feelings, and consider the bigger picture.

    This free-flowing use of personal writing can be a wonderful catalyst for removing blocks and letting your intuitive voice lead the way. Just let the words pour out of you.

    — 

    The intuitive voice is a powerful one, but it often needs a quiet, calm, reflective environment to find its way.

    Learn where you can find some peace, go there when times are hard, and listen with all your might to what your heart and soul are telling you.

    Your intuition wants to guide and support you. So give it the space to be heard.

    Confused man image via Shutterstock

  • Are You Missing Out on Life While Checking Your Smartphone?

    Are You Missing Out on Life While Checking Your Smartphone?

    Distracted by smartphone

    “The present moment is filled with joy and happiness. If you are attentive, you will see it.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    “Yeah…Uh huh…Uh huh…Yeah…No way! Uh huh.”

    This was the response I got when talking to a friend the other day. I could tell he wasn’t really listening, because he was browsing Facebook at the time.

    Why was his smartphone more important than me? It didn’t used to be this way.

    I know I’m at risk of sounding out-of-touch and technophobic. But I really do think this is a much bigger problem than we perceive.

    We’re talking about our lives here. Do we really want to dedicate them to an iPhone?

    Another Smartphone Shocker

    The other day I saw a man on his Blackberry during an entire meal with his family. He was with his wife and young children (although they’ll be adults before long).

    How rare are moments like this? How precious are they?

    Yet, the man let this moment pass him by forever. If only he’d brought his attention to the present moment, he’d have experienced something far more valuable than anything displayed on a three-inch screen.

    And is there any joy in a stroll through the park or along a bustling city street?

    Last year I roughly counted one in five people glued to their phones while walking. And this was on New York’s 5th Avenue—one of the most exciting, alive, beautiful streets I’d ever walked on.

    Was it really so mundane to these people?

    Let me be clear. I’m not suggesting you throw away your smartphone and communicate with telegrams. The smartphone is an extremely useful tool, no question.

    What I’m saying is this: Bring attention to the moments when you reach for your smartphone.

    There are three questions I suggest you ask yourself every time.

    Question 1: What’s the emotion behind this decision?

    I work from home most days, and this wasn’t easy at first.

    I spent a good couple of years completely addicted to my email account. If there was an opportunity to check my inbox, you can bet your best socks I’d have taken it.

    But once I began meditating, I became much more aware of my emotions.

    I soon realized I didn’t check my email to check my email. I checked my email because I wanted fulfillment. I wanted somebody to praise me for good work, send me a dream brief, or tell me something fascinating.

    As you check your smartphone, try to pinpoint the emotion behind your decision.

    Is it anxiety? Boredom? Or are you subconsciously putting off something more important?

    Once you know the emotion, ask yourself: Can this emotion be fulfilled by something else?

    I realized I got the same feeling of fulfillment from writing. So I stopped checking my email first thing in the morning and would write for two hours instead. Since I’m a copywriter, this was doubly beneficial, because it made me better at my job.

    Question 2: What value do I place on this present moment?

    If you show gratitude for the present moment, you might think twice about using your smartphone.

    Riding the bus is a common place to start checking Facebook. The bus is, admittedly, quite boring. You follow the same route every day, and not much seems to happen.

    But what if riding the bus became a wonderful in-the-moment experience? Rather than grab your phone on instinct, notice the passing scenery, the feeling of movement, and the different people who hop on and off.

    This is a moment in your life. Never forget that.

    If you need to check your phone, the bus is a good time to do it. But if you don’t, why not experience the journey?

    Also, remember, if you’re with a friend or relative the present moment has twice as much value. You have someone else to consider.

    Personally, I don’t think it’s ever appropriate to check your phone in someone else’s company. (Unless you have something very serious going on in your life, of course.) Show people how much you value them instead.

    As Thich Nhat Hanh said, “The most precious gift we can offer others is our presence. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers.”

    Question 3: Can my smartphone really add value to the present moment?

    Before the smartphone, we had something very precious indeed—the unanswered question.

    Your smartphone can answer any question in a couple of seconds. That’s true. But don’t you find it’s the unanswered questions that spark the most interesting conversations.

    Unanswered questions start debates. They enrich friendships.

    The other day I mentioned that the author Jack Kerouac was Canadian.

    “You’re wrong,” a friend jumped in. “He was American.”

    “Are you sure? I swear he was from Quebec,” I replied.

    “I’ll find the answer,” another friend said, withdrawing their smartphone. Presto! Two seconds later, the conversation was over.

    Another time, at dinner, a group of us wondered who composed the Lord of the Rings score. All sorts of interesting topics popped up along the way—from Hans Zimmer to John Williams to Star Wars and back to Lord of the Rings again.

    “I’ll find the answer,” someone said. And again, it was a smartphone that killed the conversation.

    Unanswered questions are uncomfortable.

    Reaching for your smartphone is understandable. Perhaps it’s even human nature. But it’s important to stop, reflect, and question what might happen when you do.

    I believe mindfulness is more important today than ever before. Unless we take control of ourselves, our gadgets will take control for us.

    Notice the present moment. Understand it. Be grateful for it.

    And if you decide it’s not a good time to use your phone, please resist the urge. You’ll feel much happier.

    Distracted by smartphone image via Shutterstock

  • Wanting More Time: Have You Lived Enough?

    Wanting More Time: Have You Lived Enough?

    Woman with hourglass

    “When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive—to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.” ~Marcus Aurelius

    I remember attending a lecture by the Tibetan monk Sogyam Rimpoche, author of The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, in which, smiling all the while, he confessed, “So many people, they say, ‘I’m not afraid of death.’I tell you, they’re lying! Death? Very scary. Me? I’m very scared of death.”

    And I thought to myself, “Phew, if he’s scared, then it’s certainly okay that I’m scared too.”

    For many years after that, I carried a question around with me. “Have I lived enough yet?” Without hesitation my answer was always, “No way! Not by a long shot!”

    And then I’d follow this up with all the reasons why I wasn’t yet satisfied—I hadn’t left a mark on the world, wasn’t married yet, didn’t have children, didn’t know who was going to win this season of whatever reality TV show I was following.

    Even after I had built a decent career for myself, published a book that I know helps others, got married, had two adorable sons, and found out who won that season (and many others) of various TV shows and sports, the question and its familiar response still remained. Had I lived enough yet? No!

    It suddenly dawned on me that, if I continued to think this way, I would never experience fulfillment. I’d never arrive at that mythical destination I’d set out for myself where I’d finally cease yearning for more. Especially now that I had kids, this became abundantly clear.

    I’d always want to see what came next in their lives, to witness each step upon their journey into and throughout adulthood.

    Then if they had kids, I’d want to share as much of their lives as possible too. Feeling so much love in my heart, I knew I’d never reach a place where I’d had enough. I’d always want more.

    Realizing that I was chasing what could never be caught, I stopped to pose myself a new question.

    I asked, “What do I want my last thought in this world to be?” And my answer came back as something like, “I’d want to be thinking, Ahhhhh, that was good… that was nice… that was enough…”

    This new question might not have helped me much, if I didn’t remember something else, namely, that how we live this moment is the best predictor of how we will live in the future.

    So, it then occurred to me that, if I wanted to be thinking I have lived enough in the future, then the best way to get there would be to live with that exact same thought right now.

    Immediately, I started asserting this new notion that, already, I had actually lived enough. After all, there are many humans that are not blessed with the experience of even a second day of life on earth. How greedy was I willing to be? How selfish and ungrateful?

    The deeper this pronouncement that I had lived enough sunk into me, the greater the shroud of fear surrounding death lifted.

    Whether I initially had believed this or not, I slowly grew to the place where I knew, beyond any doubt, that I had lived enough. Yes! I had already lived enough! And, just like that, all my fears vanished and I finally felt free, overflowing with a sense of appreciation and contentment.

    Ever since, I’ve been discussing this concept of “enough” with others in the throes of grief and loss.

    What I explain is that “enough” is always a value judgment, rather than something that can be quantified or measured. It’s about perspective, a determination on our part to choose gratitude for what we’ve been granted over regret for what we have lost or fears about what we might lose.

    This can be tremendously powerful, though admittedly very hard at times. Is it possible to view the death of a young child and understand that he or she lived enough?

    Can a parent suffering through such a loss perceive their abbreviated time with their son or daughter as enough?

    When a friend or parent or anyone else we care about passes away, can we experience the time we had with them as enough?

    The answer is yes. It is possible, if and when we choose to exercise our right to invoke this perspective.

    We can view whatever time we’ve been given through the continually available lens of gratitude, appreciation, celebration, and love. We can understand each moment as a gift, as “enough.”

    To be a human is little short of a miracle. In the limitlessly vast universe of atoms and particles and stars and planets, gases and quarks and molecules, stones and trees and bugs and platypuses, of all the possible manifestations of life that are possible, we have been given the rarest of privileges of experiencing what it is like to be human. That’s cool!

    Just by being here, we’ve already beaten the odds, no matter how many more minutes of this miracle we get to experience.

    We know when we lived enough by knowing this right now, during this and all future moments, even while we crave to drink in as much as life continues to offer us. We appreciate that no more is needed.

    We’re thankful and, from the wisdom of this thankfulness, we smile, at ourselves and all around us. We’ve already lived enough—and that’s a beautiful thing.

    Woman with hourglass image via Shutterstock

  • The Happiest People

    The Happiest People

    The Happiest People

  • How to Turn Worries About the Future Into Action Right Now

    How to Turn Worries About the Future Into Action Right Now

    “Every day brings a choice: to practice stress or to practice peace.” ~Joan Borysenko

    After years and years of living with anxiety, I can’t tell you exactly what I have been anxious about.

    Is it a pervasive thought about how my life will end? Is it a constant worry about my financial security? Is it simply that I’m nervous to give a speech in front of people? Or a combination of all of them?

    Even thinking about anxiety causes more anxiety. Ahhh!

    Anxiety is also really hard to define. It’s so subjective.

    I don’t think my anxiety will ever truly go away. I still have thoughts about the future, and the “what ifs” still run through my mind.

    I’m not some blissful angel walking around in a constant state of Zen. At least, this is how I imagine how I would be anxiety-free. There doesn’t seem to be a cure for anxiety that works for everyone. If you find one, please let me know.

    However, I know that I am no longer miserable. It’s different now than before. There are some positive things that have worked for me.

    One of the worst parts of my anxiety was that nobody could tell I had it. When I told people, they responded, “Wow, you always seem so calm and put together.”

    That is not how I felt on the inside. Why was what I felt on the inside so different than how others perceived me? I wanted to change this, and I wanted to be comfortable.

    I have found some ways to cope with and significantly reduce my anxiety about the future. Because that is what anxiety is all about—the future. Yet, I experience anxiety in the moment, not in the future.

    Rationally, this does not make any sense. How is feeling anxious in this moment going to fix or solve any problem in the future? It can’t. Oh, how I wish it were that cut and dry.

    However, telling myself this simple fact somehow helps a little. Anxiety isn’t logical. The more I treat it that way, the less I struggle with it. Still, even if it isn’t logical, it is very real.

    I’ve found that small action steps can turn some of these thoughts into real positive change, which helps me be a little more comfortable. The best part is the more you do them, the easier it becomes. It’s like a muscle you need to keep working out.

    Here is a breakdown of action steps to take when you’re worrying about the future.

    First, acknowledge what you’re worried about.

    Let’s say I have constant anxiety about an upcoming work conference where I know I will have to interact with important people. When I acknowledge that I’m feeling anxious, and why, I can then begin to take action.

    Next, ask yourself, what I am actually afraid of, and why?

    Write it out if you’d like. In the above situation for me, it would have been the fear of passing out or throwing up as someone important approaches me or asks me a question. Why? Because I get uncomfortable in social situations and don’t want to embarrass myself.

    Imagine the worst-case scenario.

    My worst-case scenario is sweating profusely and having a room full of people laughing and pointing at me because of it. Oh, and then I’d have a heart attack. Sound crazy? Think about something unusual you have convinced yourself to be absolutely true.

    Move from fear to action.

    Ask yourself, how can I take this fear and turn it into something I can do today—something that will most likely not cause the absolute worst-case scenario to happen?

    We want to increase our odds here.

    How can I break this down into an action that will help?

    In my case, I could approach some friends at work and make conversation; nothing serious, just more than I usually do.

    Or, maybe I could go home tonight and research one of the speakers at the conference to get to know them a little better.

    If I’m feeling really brave, I could volunteer to present something small to a couple of coworkers or even to an all staff meeting.

    Maybe I could sign up for an improv class to get comfortable in front of people.

    Maybe I could just talk to someone I trust about how I’m really feeling.

    The more I take action toward that future moment, the less pervasive my thoughts.

    Think about the desire to become an expert at something. You can ruminate over and over again how you wish you could play the piano, but it won’t make a difference if you never take action and sign up for just one lesson.

    If you can do something of value at your best today, there isn’t anything about the future you need to worry about.

    You see, every single moment becomes another moment, and then becomes another.

    I’ve found that if I can do one action today toward something I am anxious about, and do it my best, that is good enough for me.

    If you take many small actions over time, when the big moment actually becomes the moment (no longer in the future), not only will it become easier to handle, but you’ll most like realize that it wasn’t worth all the stress.

    I like to think of life in this way: I don’t know how it will all end, nor do I want to. I know that I can’t control my fate. I’m not perfect and I make mistakes. And that’s okay.

    One thing I do know for sure, if I do my best today I can look forward to a future that’s much better than my worst fears about it.

  • What We Think We Become

    What We Think We Become

    What We Think We Become

    Source: ReligiousQuotes.net

  • That Horrible Job You Hate Might Just Change Your Life

    That Horrible Job You Hate Might Just Change Your Life

    “What you do today can improve all your tomorrows.” ~Ralph Marston

    Before I started my business, I spent three years at an ad agency and a little over a year at an international furnishings retailer. I also waitressed, wrote freelance articles, designed and developed a church website, and worked in an incredibly boring mailroom.

    Some of those jobs (let’s be honest, most of those jobs) totally sucked.

    In the mailroom, my boss was a sexist jerk with a Napoleon Complex.

    In waitressing, I spent too much of my time being other people’s emotional punching bag.

    And at the ad agency—the most relevant, fun, and useful of my full-time jobs—I worked myself half to death, burning out around the three-year mark and seriously contemplating a simple life spent working at Starbucks and never taking my work home with me.

    Sometimes, in the middle of the day, I would walk around the block and cry my eyes out because I was so exhausted. So you won’t be surprised when I say that I don’t look back on any of those jobs and want to relive them. I don’t think back on them and feel nostalgic.

    And if you told me that you hated your job or even that you loved your job but you’d burned yourself completely out, I’d say, “I hear that, sister!” And then I’d help you come up with a practical plan for quitting and doing something truly spectacular.

    That said, it’s only now that I’m truly working toward what I want, doing the things that inspire me, that I can look back and realize that every single job I had, with every good, bad, and ugly thing about it, led me perfectly to the place I am today.

    Waitressing taught me patience. It taught me how to work with people (even entitled, difficult, or angry people). It taught me not to take everything so damn personally.

    At the furnishings retailer, I learned about account management, event planning, eStore management, and editing content across multiple countries and cultures.

    At the ad agency, I learned how to run my own business.

    I sat with the accountant while she explained how she balanced the books. I worked alongside the designers and developers and learned to speak their language and respect their work. I wrote and strategized content for every format you can imagine. I managed client projects. I flew across the country to present on social media in front of hundreds.

    I also learned the art of the short sentence, the closely edited article. I worked closely with the Creative Director on brand slogans and ad concepts for big brands. And I learned how to sell. Sell my ideas. Sell our services. Sell my expertise.

    I learned that when you’re constantly selling yourself, you start to believe in yourself more.

    In other words, all the tools that made my first business successful were things I learned on the job at jobs that weren’t my dream.

    All the skills I’m using now as a full-time travel writer—my long-time dream job—come from a history of difficult, sometimes heartbreaking work.

    Which is why today I wanted to offer up a little encouragement:

    If you’re in a totally sucky job you hate or even a job that you kinda love but that is zapping your energy and killing your creativity…

    It’s okay.

    Because you never know how those skills you’re developing now might just set you up for future success.

    So, while you’re in that not-so-ideal job, learn as much as you can. Hone your skills. Connect with your colleagues. Go for that award. Volunteer for a task you want to learn more about.

    And in the meantime start looking for or planning for the thing you really want. That job at a company you admire. That career as a freelance creative type. That business idea that’s been coming up over and over again.

    Make a change. Do what you love.

    But also take advantage of what you can now. And remember that you can’t know just how much that job is doing for you until you’ve left it in the dust. The things you do today can change everything…even if you can’t see it yet.

  • Follow Your Heart: Stop Playing It Safe and Start Really Living

    Follow Your Heart: Stop Playing It Safe and Start Really Living

    Girl with Heart

    “If you do nothing unexpected, nothing unexpected happens.” ~Fay Weldon

    After an extremely harrowing time dealing with big life changes while working a very stressful job, I snapped.

    No, I didn’t reach for the nearest stapler and start attacking my colleagues (though this was a secret fantasy when the going got really tough). The words of that song by The Animals came to mind and I decided, “I got to get out of this place.” At least for a little while.

    And so, after much planning, globe spinning, and Google searching, I finally cobbled together an itinerary and nervously asked The Boss Man for six weeks off. Gulp. He said yes! Just goes to show, oftentimes, she who asks, gets.

    Fast forward a few months, the tickets are booked, accommodation arranged, I was off on a solo venture to Central America with nothing but a suitcase of dreams and me, myself, and I for company.

    Sometimes in life you get these crazy whims and suddenly decide to jump in the driver’s seat, grab the steering wheel, and make a hard right from the road of your life. To some, this may involve a lot of nerve and a yearning for adventure, and true, that is a small part of it.

    The other, more interesting part of it for me (for fear of sounding like a bumper sticker) was to feel the fear and do it anyway.

    It was about having faith that things will work out and trusting that the universe has my back. Keep the faith if you will.

    I didn’t know exactly why I was going away but just had a deep sense that this was what I had to do at this time in my life (or face a lengthy prison sentence for assault with a stapler).

    Funnily enough, the whole “the universe has my back” thing became the trip motto, and when I started to obsess over every last logistical detail, I had to give myself a stern talking to.

    “Girl, you don’t and can’t control the world. Let it go, it will all work out. And if not, then at least I tried. To quote that fine and wise Irishman, Samuel Beckett, “Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.” Truly words to live by.

    Once I let go of the expectation of what the experience should look like and put my inner control freak back in her place, the strangest things started to happen.

    I had a small stash of savings lined up that I like to refer to as the “F It Fund.” However, part of the deal with The Boss Man was that I was going to be taking unpaid leave. While paying for my apartment in Brooklyn. Those familiar with the rental market in New York City will feel my pain as I type this.

    I had my apartment advertised for sublet but no fish were biting. Instead of panicking, I just accepted that if I didn’t find anyone to rent my place I would be fine. That’s what an emergency credit card is for. As the young kids say these days #YOLO!!

    Again, once I had given up any attachment to outcome, three days before I was due to leave I had an email from the sublet agent. They had found someone last minute who wanted to rent my place for a month. Hallelujah!

    After much victory dancing in the kitchen, I readied my place for these subletters. I trundled downstairs to check my mailbox only to find a bunch of checks that were overdue to me and I had given up hope of receiving. Taxi! JFK, pronto.

    And so, the moral of this particular story is that sometimes in life you need to stop and listen to that little voice inside that’s desperately trying to get your attention. It’s trying to provide you with the wisdom to trust and follow your heart, not your head.

    Following your heart does not necessarily have to involve grinding your life to a halt and taking six weeks off work to travel; that’s just my experience. It’s about listening within to whatever it is that your heart is telling you.

    It may be telling you to work less and spend more time with your family. Or have more fun in life. Or cultivate more self-care by taking a yoga class on a regular basis, or even taking ten minutes of your day to sit quietly and just breathe.

    Whatever it is, know that in doing so you are subtly making a change. It really doesn’t matter how small or how big.

    Some people might go all out and create huge life changes, such as moving cities, ending a toxic relationship, or changing careers. Some might just choose to create more peace in their lives or remove a bad habit that no longer serves.

    The point is that whatever you choose, if it is coming from your heart know that you will be supported throughout whether you realize it or not.

    The end result might not look the way you anticipated or even have any resemblance to it. The universe works in mysterious ways, but will provide the best for you whether you like the outcome or not; after all, we are here to learn and evolve.

    Just get out of your own way, let go of attachment to outcome, and simply allow.

    Understand that this is a process and we are only human, so do the best you can. I chose to bat this little voice away time and time again, like a persistent fly, focusing instead on my job and generally trying to keep my head above water.

    But that little voice kept getting louder and louder until it was a roar in my ear. “Can you hear me now? Can you hear me now? I’m not going to stop poking you until you stop and listen.”

    Hands over my ears.

    “Still not listening? What if I push you out onto the corner of Awful Circumstance Ave & Bad Luck Street until you are so stressed out that you have no choice but to hold up a white handkerchief and surrender yourself?”

    It took me quite some time to finally concede, fully surrender, and accept that I had to make some big decisions, and from those decisions, big changes. But finally, cautiously, I stepped out of my comfort zone, peeking my head out much like a bear coming out of hibernation.

    It may feel strange deciding to let that little voice take the reins of your life, even for a short while, and even incredibly terrifying, but so far it’s been the best decision I have made in quite some time.

     Girl with heart image via Shutterstock

  • There’s a Light in You

    There’s a Light in You

    There's a Light in You

    Source: Princess Sassy Pants & Co.