Tag: wisdom
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Think Like a 5-Year-Old to Start Living the Life of Your Dreams
“Don’t grow up. It’s a trap.” ~Unknown
A little over a year ago, my brother and I decided to write a book together. At the ages of nineteen and twenty-nine, this was a really scary thing for us.
Neither of us considered ourselves “good writers,” and we especially didn’t think highly enough of our writing to imagine that we’d ever write a book.
I made C’s on most of my papers in high school and college and, quite frankly, my confidence in my writing was pretty low.
Each time I tried to sit down and write even a two-to-five-page paper, I would spend countless frustrating hours banging my head against the keyboard and writing all night in an attempt to reach the page limit. For me, writing was an extremely painful process.
I’d made myself believe that I was bad at it. All of the bad grades and papers full of red ink had me convinced that it was a lost cause. They told me I’d never be a good writer.
So when my brother and I decided to write a book, you can imagine all of the thoughts running through my head…
“I’m not a good writer. Why would anyone want to read my book?”
“I can’t even write a three-page paper. How will I ever finish a book?”
“What if nobody buys the book?”
And the list goes on and on. These types of thoughts keep most people from going after their dreams. They keep us paralyzed in fear, afraid to take the first step.
Seth and I had to overcome these insecurities as writers to get started. We pushed past them with childlike curiosity and channeled our inner five-year-olds by asking questions, making mistakes, and reaching out to successful authors for advice.
I’m going to tell you a few things that helped us through these insecurities, but first I want to ask you a question. When’s the last time you truly thought like a five-year old?
You know, thoughts like: “I’m going to be an astronaut one day” or “When I grow up I’m going to be the president.”
As children, we tend to believe that we truly can do anything we want. But a funny thing happens: as you go to school, get a job, and eventually retire, the world’s expectations and beliefs about you shrink your own beliefs.
This process looks a little like this…
The things we believed we could accomplish slowly start to melt away and become unfulfilled dreams.
Our dreams of doing humanitarian work in Africa or playing in a band never see their start because we begin listening to others and accept that these things won’t happen.
It’s hard not to listen because many of these people have pure intentions. Some of them are people we love, who love us back, but they have no idea what is possible because it isn’t their dream.
Nevertheless, we follow the path they suggest based on their own beliefs of what is possible. Unfortunately, it can take years, decades, and even a lifetime to realize how our dreams were derailed and why.
What you can actually do continues to grow, even as your beliefs (what you think you can do) get in the way of that.
So how do you push past your insecurities and start believing in yourself again? How do you take advantage of the endless possibilities available to you when your beliefs about yourself won’t let you take the first step?
1. Start thinking like a five-year-old.
Ignore your doubts and negative feedback from others. Five-year-olds don’t pay attention when someone tells them they might not be a princess and an actress when they grow up. They just keep believing.
When my brother Seth decided he wanted to be a musician, many people around him suggested he try for something more realistic. Despite the insecurities and the extremely small chance of success, he believed in himself and went for it. Now he plays around the world with his band NEEDTOBREATHE.
When you start believing and acting on your five0year-old dreams, there’s a good chance you’ll be surprised by how often they come to life.
2. Be the biggest loser.
The weird thing about our potential is that it often gets hidden. It gets covered up by doubt and by the discouragement we get from others. We often forget our potential exists, and it takes a friend or coach to remind us of it and encourage us to take action.
The NBC show “The Biggest Loser” is a classic example of this principle. Before coming on the show, the contestants fail to lose weight on their own because they lack the willpower, the time and, most importantly, the belief in themselves. After getting on the show and working with trainers, they uncover abilities they never knew existed.
If you’re looking to make a serious change in your life, find a coach or accountability partner to work with. They’ll help you tap into your childlike thinking and uncover beliefs, abilities, and innate talents.
Because of our lack of experience, Seth and I reached out to several successful authors for help and coaching on our book. Reaching out to people you respect can be a scary process, but each time you do it you’ll learn something new.
3. Don’t be so scared of failure.
Many times we quiet our inner five-year-old because of the fear of failure. We fear that if we go for what we actually want, we might fail and look stupid. This was my fear before writing the book.
The best learning moments in life are when we fail. If you never fail, you’ll never make a difference in the world.
Think of the people who you admire the most. How many times do you think they’ve failed in their lives? Probably more than they can remember. These people are successful because they failed early and failed often. They got out there, gave it a shot, and learned with each failure.
Failure means you’re making progress. Don’t be so afraid of it.
When you were five, falling down and pushing yourself back up was an opportunity to build your muscles. You ran to explore possibilities because at worst you would learn something new and get stronger doing it.
If anything is b-o-l-o-g-n-a, it’s forgetting how to run and hope and dream the way we did when we were kids. So next time you’re feeling discouraged or insecure, ask yourself: “What would my inner five-year-old do?”
Editor’s Note: Chandler has generously offered to give away five signed copies of Breaking Out of a Broken System, his new book, co-written with his brother Seth. Each book purchased saves someone’s life through a life-saving malaria pill. Their mission is to save 10,000 lives by selling 10,000 copies.
To enter to win a copy, leave a comment below. You can enter until midnight EST on Monday, March 10th.
UPDATE: The winners for this giveaway have already been chosen. Congrats to M, VictoriaP, Tiffany Joi, Priya, and Alex
Photo by Praveen Kumar
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33 Ways to Be Childlike Today
“Great is the human who has not lost his childlike heart.” ~Mencius
Remember when life was simple?
When your friends were the most important thing in the world. When a snow day was a perfect excuse to have fun, not a block of time when you felt guilty about being unproductive.
When the ice cream truck could make your day, no matter what happened before. Bad grade? Big deal—it’s snow cone time. Skinned knee—who cares, you have a screwball!
If only you could bottle that sense of freedom, fun, and enthusiasm for the little things, you could carry it in your responsible adult pocket and take a swig when you started taking everything too seriously.
I don’t know about you, but mine would be in a glass vial embellished with red, pink, and purple swirleys, topped with a water globe stopper that had a palm tree in it. (Yeah—that’s right!)
Maybe we don’t need some major departure from business as usual to stop being stuffy and start being childlike (which can actually help you become more innovative, in case sheer joy isn’t motivation enough).
I’ve compiled a list of ideas to be more childlike today. I chose thirty-three because it’s the house number where my parents live, and it’s because of them I am the best couch cushion fort maker on both the east and west coasts. Enjoy: (more…)
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The “If, Then” Trap: How It Keeps You Unhappy and How to Avoid It
“Happiness is the absence of striving for happiness.” ~Chuang Tzu
Being an empty nester (the kids have grown up and left home), I noticed recently that I have fallen in love with little kids again.
After going through all the kid stages, and surviving them (most notably the teenage years), I took a long kid moratorium. Skiing, mountain biking, traveling, gardening, and reading—all filled to the brim with a commodity I had forgotten about: time just for me.
Now, unexpectedly, they’re back! Exhausting, enchanting, and a source of endless inspiration.
A few doors down to the west I have new neighbors—Parker, her brother, and her parents. Parker hollers my name when I drive by, waves vigorously trying to escape her car seat when her Mom drives by, and marches into my yard like she owns the place.
Full of “What’s that?” and “Why are you doing this?” questions. Needs to show me—no, demands to show me—whatever she has in her hand. Where she got it, what it does, and why it’s so important!
I’ll have to admit I was a little annoyed at this mini-interloper at first. But it didn’t take long before I was helplessly enchanted by whatever kid-spell she was weaving.
Parker is full out in the moment, fun, and crackling with excitement. What I quickly noticed, staring back at me, was how I was not (fun and in the moment).
Even though I subscribe to the practice of being present, it’s often more of an ideal than a practice. Every day there is the “to-do list.” What I need to get done, to keep everything moving, and (in my mind) to keep everything from falling apart.
I plan, scheme and, okay, I worry about whatever is coming up next. Finally, when it’s all over and done with, there is a big sigh of relief. Now I can go on to the next thing. Yet, once I’m on to the next thing the cycle starts all over again!
I’ve recognized that this daily trap can keep me from being truly happy and experiencing the fullness of being in the present moment. It’s what I call the “If, Then Trap.” It’s really a happiness trap.
The “If, Then Trap” goes something like this
If I can just get this finished, then I can relax…
If I were home more, then the kids would be happier….
If I had more money, then we would be happier…
If I exercised more, then I would be happier with myself…
If my son would only apply himself in school, then I’d feel okay…
What’s interesting about the “If, Then Trap” is that it is just a story. It’s a story about what we have decided things mean.
When I practice yoga, mediate, or just hike in the mountains, and quietly align with the present moment, what I notice is that there are no problems. Everything is perfectly okay! What’s extraordinary about this is that nothing has changed.
So why is there a deep sense of contentment during these life-stands-still moments when the external circumstances that keep us caught up in drama remain the same?
Here’s what I think: the mind chatter, the stories we tell ourselves, and what we decide everything means ignites emotions that are perfectly aligned with the story we have been telling ourselves.
It’s a viscous cycle: interpretation, and an emotional response that feeds right back into the story, the story grows and the resulting emotions make us unhappy.
Clearly, in the present moment, happiness just happens. Unhappiness is manufactured. Chuang Tzu was right: Happiness is the absence of striving for happiness.
As I finished writing this Parker appeared in my driveway.
“What are you doing???” she hollered.
“Writing about happiness,” I said.
“Why? Happiness is easy!” she yelled, peddling out of sight.
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10 Life-Changing Lessons I Wish I Learned Sooner
“Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow.” ~Albert Einstein
I recently turned thirty-eight.
Birthdays and new years always make me quite reflective and, for a long time, critical about my achievements—what I’ve done and what I have to show for it.
This time, though, there was finally a wonderful difference.
Over the past twelve months what’s mattered has been about the people I’ve met, the places I’ve seen, the experiences I’ve had, and the things I’ve discovered about myself—none of which have brought me anything physical to show for it.
I’ve learned character building life lessons, the kind that have changed my life forever and, to be honest, I wish I’d learned sooner. Perhaps these will help you too.
1. Being happy is not about what we achieve.
I had to start with this one, as someone who has spent so much of her life achieving, striving to achieve, and competing to win. The first half of my life I strived to ride for my country and compete in the Olympics, then to achieve in business, then academically, and always in relationships.
It doesn’t matter what I achieve. No job, promotion, money, relationship, house, highest mountain, or gold medal will ever change how I feel about myself.
Achievement is the icing on the cake, so it’s important to learn to like the cake that’s the sum of who we are first, so we have something to ice.
2. We are all doing our best.
I used to hold myself to the highest scrutinizing criticism and moral compass.
I was excellent at delivering self-punishment as judge, gaoler, and executioner for every small flaw, mistake, or underachievement.
However, I would forgive other people for every fallibility, choice, and indiscretion. I expected so little accountability or responsibility from other people and so much from myself.
I’ve learned to balance it out by being more lenient, forgiving, and loving toward myself and accepting that we’re all doing our best—and this rule applies to me too.
3. We have to know and respect our deal breakers.
Self-worth is an action, so I got clear about my relationship deal breakers. Sadly, I’ve let a lot of people throughout my life treat me with disrespect—lie, cheat, take liberties, bully, blame, shame, and even abuse. I didn’t stand for anything. I couldn’t say no.
Without no, my yes had no value.
Now my deal breakers are respect, honesty, and responsibility.
When we know our deal breakers, we don’t accept mistreatment because we know we’re worth more.
4. Other people’s actions aren’t about us.
When I was in my twenties, my ex fiancé cheated on me. For a long time I believed it was my fault, that it must have been something I did or didn’t do—that I wasn’t good enough.
I realize now that how any other adult chooses to behave is about them, not me. My ex felt there was a problem in the relationship, and in response, he chose to be the kind of person who lies and cheats.
We’re only responsible for our own actions, feelings, and words, which means the buck stops here, but this also frees us from wasting energy and time cleaning up other people’s messes.
5. We need to trust our intuition.
I’ve made many mistakes in my life because I didn’t trust my intuition, nature’s gift of survival, which helps us thrive.
I got involved with the wrong people, relationships, and jobs, ignoring that I knew they weren’t right for me from the start, and then paid the price by wasting time and energy trying to make them work.
Intuition can be as loud as someone shouting in your ear, and other times, it’s subtler.
When we slow down, take our time, allow it to get clearer, and listen, we save ourselves a whole lot of trouble.
6. All the studying in the world will never be enough.
I’ve spent years studying, seeking to understand people and the meaning of life, love, and the universe. I have letters after my name to prove it, and much of it was a waste of time.
Most things are just stepping-stones to somewhere else, often on a cyclical path back to what you knew already.
Knowledge is power, but experience in using it, applying it, seeing how it feels, and making mistakes trumps everything, because that’s wisdom.
Good old-fashioned hands on living and having the courage to get involved and experience makes you wise. Then you have a beautiful lesson to share.
7. Face the scary stuff.
I wasted so much time hiding from the boogie monster, the scary truth inside of me. I just had to be brave and come face to face with how I felt and what I desired.
I had to feel all that I had hidden, repressed, and buried instead of trying to unlock it all through my head with knowledge, or getting someone else to tell me what to do.
Only then was I free; I could I stop caring if other people approved of me or not and just love myself and know what matters to me.
We travel through life alone, and by becoming our own best friend we no longer have to fear being unloved.
8. Accept that life and people are inconsistent.
When I was little, like everyone, I was reliant on others and needed them to be consistent so I could feel safe in the world. Unfortunately, they weren’t, so I got stuck needing to please other people so they would take care of me, but I always felt let down and disappointed.
I was like a drowning young woman at sea, battered around by the force of the waves with nothing to hold onto, because I had nothing of substance to rely on.
Change is the only consistent thing there is. Accepting this empowers us to learn to depend on ourselves.
9. We can be our own best friends.
By facing the scary stuff, getting clear about my deal breakers, starting to trust my intuition, and forgiving myself, I began to like, love, and respect myself.
I turned my curiosity toward finding out about myself and what I actually like, enjoy, and don’t want. I became my own best friend and I’ve got my back if there’s a problem.
I came to know me, inside and out, and what matters to me, so I built a boat of substance and I’m no longer drowning. The world around me can be wild and changeable like the sea, but now I can ride out the waves without fear. The same can be true for you.
10. We are enough.
I never needed to strive to be anyone’s best friend, girlfriend, or wife by keeping a tidy house, cooking like a chef, and making wild passionate love every night, or by being a CEO, earning a fortune, or having a gold medal or a PhD.
It sounds exhausting just writing it, but that was how I used to live my life.
Yes, I sometimes do some cool, fun, interesting stuff; I am curious about the world and enjoying my life. But sometimes I can’t be bothered.
I like to slob around in my PJs watching old movies. I get morning breath and matted hair, but can scrub up well and attend the ballet.
I now know who I am, what makes me happy, and the value I can bring to any relationship or situation not because of what I do, but who I am.
We’re unique, priceless, and irreplaceable, and the sum of every experience.
Our greatest relationship is with ourselves, because it’s through that relationship that we learn how to truly love other people, including our children. And when we demonstrate how to love us, we can get the most joy out of our lives.
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Reflections: A Touching Performance from Two Young Sisters
Quincy and Gracie Latkovski share a passion for dancing, but they do it in two very different ways: one in ballet slippers, and one in a wheelchair. They performed this moving dance as part of 2013 WHAS Crusade for Children telethon. Just like these talented sisters, it’s both beautiful and inspiring!
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When You Feel Down or Stuck: How to Effectively Be What You’re Not
“Success is achieved by developing our strengths, not eliminating our weaknesses.” ~Marilyn vos Savant
I often hear the words “be yourself.” I love those words, and I truly believe that everyone should strive to be the truest version of who they are. There’s nothing more attractive than a person who is just so utterly themselves, even when society tries to push them the other way.
Strong willed people are some of my favorite types. They can be righteous. They can be overly moral. However, they know what they want, they know who they are, and they know that nobody else determines their definitions of themselves.
They stand up for what they believe in. And most importantly, they stand up for others when it matters.
As somebody who is quite strong willed myself, I appreciate the beauty in the statement “be yourself.” However, I have also come to appreciate the softer side of letting go.
This includes being wrong sometimes and even admitting it. This also includes opening my mind to the possibility of all possibilities; seeing the positive in the negative, understanding the behavior of those who may seem morally corrupt (to me), taking benefit from the other side of a passionate debate, and learning information when I want to reject it.
As somebody who preaches the importance of being yourself, I admit I have a trick up my sleeve that has something to do with pretending to be who you’re not. Yup! I feel deliciously devious even just saying that.
This trick is well known in the world of Positive Psychology, a term coined by Martin Seligman, Ph.D. in psychology.
So what is this trick? Well, when you find yourself feeling down and depressed, it can help tremendously to ask yourself:
“What would the happy version of me do at this moment?”
Not only does this get you into a goal-oriented state, but it also takes a load off the negativity that you might be feeling. It takes your mind state from “oh woe is me” to imagining what will actually make you happier. It’s proactive.
When you can imagine yourself being something greater than what you feel at the moment, you actually flip on a little switch in your brain that will attempt to propel you toward that image.
This can work not only when feeling down, but with any goal you may have in mind.
“What would the healthy version of me do?”
“What would the brave version of me do?”
“What would the successful version of me do?”
You’re not shaming yourself in any way; you’re only gently shifting your mind set into one that is proactive and ready to take charge of your life.
When I was struggling with feeling low, oftentimes I’d lie in my bed in the morning and not want to get out of it. It felt like there was no point.
I was given a beautiful child at the age of twenty-three, and even though she has been the light of my life, at the time my identity felt as though it had been ripped from my very soul.
The relationship I was in at the time was manipulative and emotionally abusive, probably on both sides. I didn’t feel like myself and I felt very restricted. My carefree spirit turned into a negative, depressed, shriveled up little hole inside my heart.
Now, this might sound odd to some, but I have always been impressed with warrior-type women. I believe that I possess some warrior qualities within myself (we all do), and when I think of them, I feel strong, like I could take on anything!
One day it just clicked. As I was lying in bed, not wanting to get out of it, I thought to myself, “What would the warrior in me do?”
Out of bed I jumped! I continued to use that saying in many different ways and for many months. Now it has become a part of me.
I am that warrior woman.
I am strong enough. I am not a victim of life’s circumstances. I create my life and everything in it. I don’t react to life. I make life what I want it to be.
To me, a warrior is not a victim. A warrior makes her life what it is; she creates it herself.
When I shift my mind into this realm, I realize that other people do not control me; I control myself. Nobody is in charge of how I get to feel.
In my relationship, I had been putting that control into somebody else’s hands, and when I decided to take back control over my life is when I finally realized the relationship was not going to work either way. Unfortunately, we had to part ways, but lessons were learned and I was finally able sit back and breathe.
Try this tool out for yourself, and see how it changes your perspective the next time you’re feeling stuck.
Who knew that pretending to be who you’re not (in a positive way) could strengthen the qualities that you never knew were inside of you?
Photo by Ohfooy
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Setting Emotional Boundaries: Stop Taking on Other People’s Feelings
“The way you treat yourself sets the standard for others.” ~Sonya Friedman
The longer I stayed on the phone, the more agitated I became. My mother was on the other end, as usual, dumping her emotions on me. I had moved to Los Angeles for graduate school in part to escape all of this—my mother’s unhappiness, my sense of responsibility, the pressure to be perfect.
When I hung up the phone, I felt an overwhelming sense of anger. At the time, I could not (correction: would not) allow myself to admit that I was angry with my mother. I couldn’t reconcile having such negative feelings and loving my mother at the same time.
After all, hadn’t she sacrificed so much for me? Hadn’t I always considered her to be my closest confidante? Didn’t I proudly declare her to be my best friend when I was younger?
Even the most positive memories between my mother and me have been eclipsed by the shadow of her depression.
As a young child, I could never understand why my mommy was so sad all the time. I cherished the rare days she was carefree and silly and held these moments close to my heart. When she slipped into a depressive state, sleeping days at a time in her dark room, I willed her to come out.
Early on, I learned to temper my behavior and my own emotions so as not to instigate or prolong her sadness. In my young mind, I made myself responsible for her and was not able to separate her feelings from mine.
I wanted her to be happy and thought that if I was always “good,” she would be. When she wasn’t happy, I blamed myself.
Unconsciously, my mother fed this belief when she constantly bragged to others that I was the “perfect daughter.” The pressure to live up to my mother’s expectations overwhelmed me. I suppressed many negative feelings and experiences in favor of upholding the ideal she and I had co-created.
That day, I turned this anger toward a safer target, my co-worker. That day at work, I blew up. I can’t remember what I said, but I distinctly remember the look of confusion on her face. My frustration with my inability to express myself made me even angrier. I excused myself, ran to the bathroom, locked myself in the last stall, and bawled my eyes out.
Soon after, I took advantage of the free counseling services on campus. Over the next several weeks, my counselor helped me realize that it was okay to feel the way I was feeling. This was a radical idea for me, and one I struggled with at first.
Because I had suppressed my own feelings for so long, when I finally allowed them to surface, they were explosive.
Anger, resentment, and disgust came alive and pulsed through my body whenever I spoke with my mother during this time. While she seemed to accept truth and honesty from other people, I tiptoed around certain topics for fear of upsetting her.
I never felt I could share the difficulties and challenges I experienced in my own life because this contradicted who I was to her. I felt I had no right to be unhappy. When I attempted to open up about these things, she often interrupted me with a story of her own suffering, invalidating the pain I felt.
She seemed committed to being the ultimate victim, and I resented her for what I perceived as weakness.
I realized that to get through my graduate program with my sanity intact, I needed to limit the amount of time and energy I gave to her. Instead, I found ways to protect and restore my energy. Writing became therapeutic for me. I found I could say things in writing I was unable to verbalize to my mother.
This won’t be an easy letter for you to read, and I apologize if it hurts you, but I feel like our relationship is falling apart, and one of the reasons is that I’ve kept a lot of this bottled up for so long. I never thought you could handle honesty from me, and so I lied and pretended everything was okay because I was always afraid I would “set you off” or that you would go into a depressed mood.
You unconsciously put so much pressure on other people (me especially) to fill your emptiness, but that’s a dangerous and unrealistic expectation, and people can’t and won’t live up to it. And they start to resent you for it. I do want you to be happy, but I’m starting to realize that I can’t be responsible for your happiness and healing; only you can.
Seeing my truth on paper was the ultimate form of validation for me. I no longer needed to be “perfect.” I gave myself permission to be authentic and honored every feeling that came up.
When I was ready, I practiced establishing boundaries with my mother. I let her know that I loved and supported her, but it negatively affected me when she used our conversations as her own personal therapy sessions. I released the need to try to “fix” things for her.
I took care of me.
Do you have trouble establishing healthy emotional boundaries?
Take a moment to answer the following questions adapted from Charles Whitfield’s Boundaries and Relationships: Knowing, Protecting and Enjoying the Self.
Answer with “never,” “seldom,” “occasionally,” “often,” or “usually.”
- I feel as if my happiness depends on other people.
- I would rather attend to others than attend to myself.
- I spend my time and energy helping others so much that I neglect my own wants and needs.
- I tend to take on the moods of people close to me.
- I am overly sensitive to criticism.
- I tend to get “caught up” in other people’s problems.
- I feel responsible for other people’s feelings.
If you answered “often” or “usually” to the above statements, this might be an indication that you have trouble establishing healthy emotional boundaries.
Like me, you’re probably extremely affected by the emotions and energy of the people and spaces around you. At times, it can be incredibly hard to distinguish between your “stuff” and other people’s “stuff.”
It is incredibly important to establish clear emotional boundaries, or we can become so overwhelmed and overstimulated by what’s going on around us that it’s sometimes hard to function.
Here are a few ways to begin the process of establishing healthier emotional boundaries.
1. Protect yourself from other people’s “stuff.”
I can feel when someone is violating a boundary because my body tenses up. I realize that my breathing is very shallow. I feel trapped, small, helpless.
The first thing I do is to remind myself to breathe. The act of focusing on my breath centers me and expands the energy around me. In this space, I can think and act more clearly.
When I feel myself becoming too overwhelmed, I try to immediately remove myself from the situation. Sometimes all it takes is a couple of minutes to walk away and regain my balance. Other times, I have had to make the decision not to spend time with people who consistently drain my energy.
Having a safe space to retreat, practicing mindfulness and meditation, or visualizing a protective shield around yourself are other methods that can help restore balance when boundaries are invaded.
Find out what works best for you.
2. Learn to communicate your boundaries in a clear and consistent way.
For many, this can be the most difficult part of the process for various reasons. We don’t like to appear confrontational. We’re afraid that if we set clear boundaries for ourselves, the people in our lives will begin to resent us. However, learning to communicate boundaries effectively is necessary for healthy relationships.
I’m not comfortable with that.
It doesn’t feel good to…
I’m not okay with…
I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t…
Please don’t…
If you cringed at the thought of using any of these phrases, you’ll be relieved to know that communicating your boundaries doesn’t always have to be with words. You can also effectively communicate through the use of non-verbal.
Closing the door, taking a step back, shaking your head, or signaling with your hands can be less threatening ways of letting others know what you will and won’t accept from them.
3. Be patient with the process.
When I first realized that I was taking on the negative emotions of my mother, I became extremely resentful and disgusted with her. Instead of taking responsibility for my role in allowing this dynamic to occur, I blamed her for every negative thing that had happened in my life.
I closed myself off from her and shut her out completely. Our relationship became incredibly strained during this time as we both readjusted to the new boundaries I was setting.
Eventually, I was able to allow her to have her own emotional experience without making it about me. I could listen and no longer become enmeshed or feel obligated to do something about what she was feeling.
Whenever you change a pattern, it is natural to feel resistance from inside as well as outside the self. As you practice, your ego may start to act up and make you feel like you are “wrong” in establishing boundaries.
Others may also become resentful of your newfound assertiveness. They may be used to a certain dynamic in your relationship, and any change has the potential to cause conflict.
Remember to be kind to yourself through the process and repeat the following affirmation:
I respect and love myself enough to recognize when something isn’t healthy for me, and I am confident enough to set clear boundaries to protect myself.
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Are You Holding Yourself Back with a Story About the Past?
“The distinction between the past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.” ~Albert Einstein
One morning I woke up inexplicably sad. I sat on my bed trying to make sense of how I felt and what could be behind it. Intuitively, I grabbed one of the many books lying on my night table and opened it in a random place.
What I had in my hands was A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose by Eckhart Tolle, and the chapter was called “Breaking Free.”
Tolle explains how we tend to be unconsciously engaged in stories from the past and habitual thoughts about them and how we avoid the feelings associated with them.
Avoiding uncomfortable feelings instead of allowing them to wound us is not the answer, Tolle warns us; emotion is a response to what is happening in the mind.
Our ego clings to false stories that create fear, anger, jealousy, and other emotional responses because it feeds on the past and future for its existence.
The best thing we can do to reduce the impact of these emotions is acknowledge them.
Uncomfortable emotions bring the precious gift of making us aware that we’re trapped in thoughts, beliefs, stories, and old interpretations of ourselves. By being present with our emotions, we can break our identification with them and release the past.
Reminded once more that every emotion is a messenger of something else that’s running deeper, I allowed my sadness to just “be.”
I could see how my past beliefs of being unwanted, undeserving, and punished were dominating the scene. I was living a past story as if it were happening today with an intensity that surprised me.
I realized then that the stories we tell ourselves are a mixture of “old emotions” and experiences we have come to feel as our identity.
“The Unwanted Me” is a personal story that has pervaded my life for too long, making me feel terrified about showing what I have to offer and taking pertinent actions.
From an early age I felt that I was somehow “different.” My environment was one of noisy activities—hanging out, watching TV, or playing video games—while I enjoyed reading, silence, nature, learning, being by myself, and engaging in artistic or volunteering activities.
I was an extroverted introvert; I loved to talk about things I was passionate about, and others mocked me for this.
The rejection made me disappear into a very rich but lonely inner world. As I grew up, I developed an inquisitive mind and artistic tendencies, which seemed to aggravate and scare my relatives and acquaintances even more than my “nerdy” style.
How could I feel so inspired and touched by things that drove others nuts? The battle to correct and bring back on track this lost sheep became so fierce and devastating that it ended with me having to leave home to be able to pursue my dreams.
Finding my way to who I was included not only being homeless and broke but also feeling enormous amounts of guilt and shame for the disappointment and pain I was causing my loved ones by doing the “wrong things.”
It took a lot of hard work to get where I am now. Long nights filled with doubts about my abilities and choices made the call for becoming an artist a painful one.
The pleasure and wonder I felt for the arts became tainted by the belief that there was something inherently wrong with me and I was being punished for challenging traditional points of view.
What I understand today is that I was struggling not only with the “real” day-to-day challenges but also with this invisible past story silently sabotaging my efforts. This is the reason why I feel so tired and frustrated sometimes.
I have actually enjoyed the benefit of having good people in my life and even recognition, but because I was unaware of a hidden script running the show, it took me loads of effort to believe people actually appreciated me for my qualities instead of pitying me.
I felt left alone many times in my life, which was both the result of the old pattern of being unwanted and punished and the fuel that kept the pattern going.
I know better now than to let the old story run wild instead of building the one I want to live. Whenever I feel this way again, I can ask myself: Who is speaking? Is it the real me, or my old “unhappy,” “unwanted,” “unworthy” (fill the blank) story?
Knowing what story we are telling ourselves helps us learn, little by little, to trust life and build the sense of self-worth we need to succeed and be fulfilled.
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Owning Our Stories: Overcoming The Fears That Make Us Play Small
“I now see how owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing that we will ever do.” ~Brené Brown
It’s taken me a long time to figure out my story.
I kept thinking, “Nothing particularly dramatic has happened to me, so how can I have a story?”
Yet recently, after years of personal growth work, that’s shifted. I see the golden thread that weaves through my story and what that means for how I show up and what I bring to the world.
I now see that this whole thing about owning your story isn’t about drama. It’s not about having a story that you feel is significant and worthy enough to share.
In many ways, it’s a metaphor. If I own my story, then I put my name to it. I become the author and with that I take the role of protagonist.
It also makes me ask the question, “If I’m not owning my story and authoring it, then who is?”
My story is one of learning to accept that I am enough, just as I am, and that what’s in my heart matters.
For most of my life I’ve strived to be enough without consciously being aware of it. It seemed to be what everyone did in the corporate world to get along. Reach. Stretch. Push. Always seeking more.
I can’t say it felt exhausting, because with every new goal I’d have a ton of energy to push through. I would think, “If I get that promotion, then I’ll feel happy.” Or, “If I get that Masters Degree, then I’ll be credible and heard.”
No, it didn’t feel exhausting. It did feel relentlessly unfulfilling.
It was as if I kept promising myself it would all be better when—even though I knew on some deep level it wouldn’t.
I felt so stuck. I knew I had all this powerful energy, but it was locked inside me. It would show up in bursts, but so often I would hold it back.
I was blaming others for my circumstances. I was arguing for how I had no choice; I had a mortgage to pay and kids to support. I was angrily frustrated and I found it hard to contain.
I would start my day at work believing “I can change things and make a meaningful contribution,” yet, I’d keep being met by the story of the organizational culture: “It’s not the right time,” or, “it’s not the way we do things around here,” or, “we just care about the numbers.”
I was so frustrated that I would come home and complain to my husband about how awful it was and how I should be doing something different but I couldn’t because we needed the money.
I blamed him on some level. I also blamed myself for not having enough courage to really change my circumstances.
People kept telling me how lucky I was to work part time while the kids were little, but it felt like such a trade off. Almost as if I could have part-time work but I couldn’t expect it to be meaningful.
For me to really look inside and discover what I wanted to do, it took a coach to point out that I was being a victim in my current story.
I remember when he said it I cried, and, truth be known, I felt embarrassed that I was crying on the phone to a guy when I was supposed to be professional!
Yet it was a painful release of the truth of how I felt. It was as if in some way he had just lanced a boil. I was being a victim. I had given my power away because I was scared.
I had lost touch with who I was, what was in my heart, and what I wanted.
From that moment on, I made a commitment to myself to get to the heart of who I was and what I bring to the world.
I wanted to become the protagonist in my story. I made the decision to quit my job and follow my heart.
It felt completely counterintuitive. My head was going wild with sabotaging thoughts, but somewhere deep inside me I trusted that I could handle what showed up.
I talked to my boss about what was happening in the organization and how the role wasn’t turning out as we had anticipated. We talked openly about this and I asked for what I wanted. We agreed to negotiate a severance package.
From there I started to notice opportunities and invest in myself so I could pursue my dream of running my own business.
I decided I had to manage my fears and made a conscious choice to let courage trump them. I would say things to myself like, “Seriously, what’s the worst that can happen?” The answer would be “I go and get another job.” More often than not I would say, “You’ve got this. You can do this.”
I clarified my minimum-squeak-by and dream income amounts and worked out a simple business plan based on these.
Most importantly, I kept going. I had a mantra that was based on how we learn to walk as babies. I would say to myself when it was tough, “Just one foot in front of the other, Vanessa.” And I would do the next small thing, even though I had a tendency to focus on the big vision.
That was nearly four years ago now and I’ve been on such a rollercoaster ride of adventure. Of course it has had ups and downs, and I wouldn’t change it for anything, because I have grown so much and I now know what it means to be fully responsible and at choice.
I have discovered the golden thread in my story: that my deepest fear is that I am not enough and I need to be more than I am to thrive.
That thread sabotages me when I believe it, because it makes me try really hard to perfect myself, procrastinate, and play small. It also has me seek approval and validation and hold back my truth.
Being aware of it helps me consciously work the muscle of radical self-acceptance and self-empowerment. It enables me to learn to practice compassion, kindness, self-love, and enough-ness.
It helps me to let go of old defensive ways of playing small like people pleasing, avoidance, and perfection.
It also helps me create connection. When I stand in the story of I am enough, just as I am, I’m great at helping people grow and find their soul truth. I’m perfect at showing up just as I am and every time I fail or show up trying to be something other than who I am, it serves as a wonderful opportunity to help me grow.
I had two fears when I started to own this story:
- What would people think about me? How could I openly stand up and say, “I practice radical self-acceptance,” because my wound is that I fear I am not enough as I am?
- I would come across as egotistical if I fully owned what I’m good at.
Interestingly, they form a double bind, with being not enough at one end and at the other, being too much. Underneath them is a fear of your opinion of me.
The key to unlocking my ability to stand in my story and fully own it has been learning to make my opinion the one that counts (at least where I’m concerned).
Making my opinion count is a practice for me. It requires me to ground my energy and often to slow down, take a step back, and quiet my inner critic.
In this place, I can connect to my inner wise woman and hear her truth. Then my only job is to trust it. It’s why my word for the year is trust.
Trust that I know what I know and that I am enough.
Trust that my heart can lead.
Trust that I am the protagonist in my story and it’s a worthy story.
Trust that the fear inside that you might judge my story is part of the old story of not being enough as I am.
Trust that when you and I stand fully in the center of our stories, we come from love.
Photo by ByLaauraa
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How Relationship Issues Can Lead to Growth (and Why It’s a Daily Process)
“When something bad happens you have three choices. You can let it define you, let it destroy you, or you can let it strengthen you.” ~Unknown
Relationships are tough. Even more difficult is maintaining healthy boundaries within a relationship.
My head hurts and I feel like I’m going to throw up. Let me explain. I’m in a loving, healthy relationship with a beautiful woman, and I’m proud to call her my partner.
Great, so why do I feel like I want to throw up? Well, because last night was a tough night for us, for me, and today I have an emotional hangover.
Here’s the breakdown. She was going to her girlfriend’s house for dinner and girl time. Great. I was home cooking myself dinner and doing a little reading and television viewing. Great again.
I sent her a text at 9:40 asking if she was having a good time. No response. Okay, no worries. An hour and a half later, worries—a head full of them.
Is she okay? Why no reply? Did I do something wrong?
She always replies to my texts. Always. So why not now?
Good question.
A healthy response would’ve been to tell myself she’s having a great time and will call when she’s on her way home. I didn’t have a healthy response.
I leaked. Leaked all over the place. Leaked as in my boundaries were nowhere to be found, and hence what should have been kept in my head instead leaked all over our relationship.
I texted a pissy good night text saying I was going to bed and hoped she was having fun. Tough to tell tone via text, but anyone could have seen that I was pissy.
A leak = poor containment. I wasn’t containing.
She replied!
She said she was having a blast and that I was entitled to be upset. Not good enough. By now I was shaking.
Containment breach! Containment breach! We have leak in the dam.
I couldn’t stop. I texted her saying her behavior was anything but normal. That she always texted me back.
This didn’t help. Stop Zach! I couldn’t.
The scared, wounded little kid had his hands on the steering wheel. He was in charge, not me.
I called her. Told her how she had hurt me, that her lack of communication triggered my abandonment issues.
I blamed her for my own stuff. Great boyfriend I am. Actually, I am a good boyfriend; I just had a tough night.
My lack of containment led to my leaking all over the place, all over her. Bad boundaries, it happens to the best of us.
Here’s the growth. Yes growth. There’s growth all over this and I’m thankful for the opportunity.
Today I can own my part, which was assuming, taking things personally, lack of containment, and blaming. My breach of containment led to all of this. There’s growth because I can see my part, learn, and make amends.
There’s growth because although I have an emotional hangover, I know in my heart that the relationship is not over. In years past I would have shut down and never recovered from something like this. Not the case today.
As my therapist told me (yes, I texted him about this), we have to make mistakes to learn and grow.
Sometimes containment means holding back our own crazy and being the functional adult who can move beyond it. Other times we leak looking for the other person to be responsible for us. It’s about practice and progress, not perfection.
Relationships are tough, but I’d rather say relationships are rewarding if we’re willing to look at our part and do the work. It’s a daily practice. And not just with a significant other.
I’m talking about relationships in all areas of our lives: work relationships, sibling relationships., relationships with our parents—all of this and so much more. The biggest for me is relationship with self. I wasn’t taught growing up how to like and love myself.
I was taught that everything is my fault and that I don’t matter. Makes having a loving relationship with myself tough work. It’s a daily practice, as mentioned.
If daily is what’s needed, then daily it is. Some days are better than others but still daily, nonetheless.
I call it re-parenting.
I call it love.
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Life Isn’t a Race: Allow Yourself to Be Happy in the Present
“Happiness is the absence of striving for happiness.” ~Chuang Tzu
At an early age I learned that nothing in life is guaranteed. When I was eleven years old, a close friend and classmate lost his battle with cancer. After that, I had several more instances of losing loved ones, some expected, others not so much.
After having gone through so much loss at such an early age, my outlook on life was one word: rushed.
I wanted to get through college as fast as I could, while taking on as much as I could. I wanted to have meaningful relationships and foster my athletic abilities. I wanted to get out into the real world and have a great job where I felt like I mattered, and made a difference.
I had graduated college a semester early, and I was blindsided by how seemingly cold the real world was and by the fact that I had all of these dreams with little to no understanding as to how they were going to come to fruition—as fast as possible.
After all, time was of the essence because I could die tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that… (What twenty-something year olds think like that?)
With the economy on the decline, I was only able to find a job at a nearby hospital as a transportation aide. This basically entailed bringing patients to and from their appointments within the hospital.
While I did enjoy certain aspects of this job, such as trying to make each and every person I transported smile during their otherwise not-so-great day, the attitudes of fellow hospital staff left me feeling worthless, as I was mocked by physicians and nurses for no other reason than my job title.
As months crept on, I became seriously devastated at the thought of my future success being delayed any further. It was hard to feel like success was on the horizon when those who were supposed to be my “teammates” were treating me so poorly. I was genuinely distraught over the uncertainty of what tomorrow was going to bring.
I tried my very best to trudge on, with the sole thought and hope that “surely another career wouldn’t be like this, right?”
About six months later I was offered a different job. It wasn’t exactly like my previous one, but left me feeling once again like I was on another rollercoaster ride, this time with a healthcare consulting company.
When I was offered this position that would have me relocating to Pennsylvania, I packed my bags as quickly as I could. I seized the moment, not knowing when another opportunity would present itself.
In this position I had effectively transitioned from a job that required direct interaction with patients, to a role that was focused on how hospitals and medical groups financially managed themselves.
While my previous critics during my time as a transportation aide would have deemed this job title more favorable, this consulting position did not leave me feeling any better at the end of the day.
Now, I was boots-on-the-ground implementing change within an organization, with one major problem: my boss was one of the most despised people at the hospital.
This left me putting out fires at every turn, and put me in a position where I felt forced to back certain causes I didn’t truly believe in because I was told to “step up, or step out,” by the management within the consulting company.
During this time, I was spending ten to twelve hours a day at work, getting nothing more in return than feeling emotionally and mentally drained at the day’s end.
While I did have a small group of friends in the area, I wasn’t close to any of them, as this group of individuals primarily focused on surface-level relationships and drinking.
To fill any remaining time I had available to me, I began training for an Olympic distance triathlon.
More or less, I threw all of the things that I felt I needed to achieve to feel happy in life up in the air, hoping at least one would catch, but none of them did.
My failure in this approach was that I was running—not just in a “hey, I’m training for an Olympic distance triathlon” kind of way, but in an “oh-my-gosh, I’m terrified to leave any amount of time free because if I truly take a step back and look at my life, I will realize how unhappy I am and how unimportant all of this is” kind of way.
I was cramming my days so full in an attempt to truly experience the world like my other friends and family members never had the chance to, and in doing this, I wasn’t actually experiencing anything at all.
I didn’t know who I was, and I most certainly didn’t know what I wanted.
Fast forward a year and a half and here I am, now located in Boise, Idaho, where I have relinquished “striving for happiness,” because happiness is not something you strive for.
When I moved to Idaho for another job opportunity, I decided not to fill all my downtime like I had in the past.
At first, I felt truly and utterly alone. Things were quiet, and it became apparent that in trying to experience everything around me and check items off of my bucket list, I had neglected to cope with several past experiences.
The loss of loved ones, the ending of relationships, and past decisions that did not suit me all haunted me in my downtime.
Through counseling and deep self-reflection over the past several months, I have been able to resolve many of these feelings and have learned, among other things, that happiness is something that already lies within us.
It is a personal choice, however, whether or not we allow ourselves to feel it.
I believe happiness is choosing to let go of those situations and people who do not suit us personally. It is living in the moment, rather than, in my case, living in fear that the moment is going to be over before I’m ready.
It is here that I have allowed myself to only invest time in what truly interests and suits me, rather than what I feel obligated to achieve.
I have made time to enjoy exercising, to cherish my family and friends, to read and write, and to enjoy the simplicity of life rather than stress over all of life’s complexities. In realizing how much I have missed while running from my past and planning far into the future, I have become truly present.
We all have the ability to enjoy our lives, but it can’t happen if we’re racing toward the future. If we want to be happy, we have to choose to create happiness now.
Photo by rusticus80
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Change Your Life by Changing Your Mind About Yourself
“The way you treat yourself sets the standard for others.” ~Sonya Friedman
I’d had enough.
Once again, I’d sent follow-up emails to guys who had shown interest in my dating site profile. Once again, I’d included full-length photos with those emails, unlike the headshot that went along with my online profile.
And once again, days later, my inbox was a virtual ghost town.
Didn’t these guys know how much courage it took for me to set up a profile in the first place? I was twenty-six years old and been on fewer than a dozen dates in my life—including my senior prom, to which I took a freshman.
I was morbidly obese for most of my twenties and had only recently lost fifty pounds. I was still overweight but in better shape than I’d been in years. And yet it still wasn’t good enough.
As soon as these once-interested guys got past my witty, self-deprecating profile full of catchy phrases like “loves to cook,” “enjoys watching football,” and “can quote The Godfather” and saw me head-to-toe, they remembered that it doesn’t matter if a girl likes watching sports or can cook a mean Sunday dinner—as long as she’s “fit and athletic.”
My self-esteem was lower than low. This was just as bad as being ignored to my face in bars and at parties.
I felt like I had to apologize for the way I looked. “Hey, sorry I’m fat, but I’m a really nice person! And I’ve spent a lot of time developing my sense of humor while the rest of you were out dating and stuff!”
I’m not sure what finally flipped the switch inside my head, but I remember the date the switch got flipped: March 7, 2006.
I’d had enough. I realized (somehow, for some reason) that I didn’t have to apologize for anything about myself.
That there were plenty of girls who looked just like me and managed to find love on their own terms—who managed to live life regardless of the voices in their head which tried to tell them they weren’t allowed to.
I got mad, both at the world and at myself for wasting so much time feeling apologetic. Like I had to gratefully accept any little crumbs thrown my way.
So I went on a rant. And I took that rant to the bastion of all that’s sketchy about the internet.
Yes, I went to Craigslist. Hey, why not? I had nothing to lose at this point.
I wish I’d kept that rant because it was gold. I derided the nameless men who let me know without saying a word that I wasn’t good enough once they got a look at the full package. I called it exactly as I saw it, with all the vitriol I could manage.
I then announced to all of the world that I wore a size 14/16, and that anyone who had a problem with that shouldn’t bother wasting my time.
I listed the same qualities I’d listed on my dating profile, and asked if my size really mattered in the face of all I had to offer. My humor, intelligence, hatred of reality TV, love of old timey movies, insanely huge music collection spanning six decades, mad cooking skills…did my size matter all that much, really?
I may even have referred to myself as “a catch.” I don’t know, it all became a blur after a while.
And much to my surprise, my inbox exploded with responses. Many of them were immediately deleted—you know, pictures of genitals and all that. (Craigslist will always be Craigslist.) Some were practically unintelligible, so I moved past them pretty quickly, too.
But one reply…one reply caught my eye.
The guy could spell and knew how to use punctuation. He seemed warm and friendly and smart, and appreciative of what I had to say. The fact that he liked to cook earned him points, too. (Ladies, I think we can all admit that we get a little swoony over a man who knows his way around the kitchen—men, pay attention!)
I knew immediately that if nothing else, this guy and I would be friends. What I didn’t know at the time was that I would marry him in September 2008.
See, I know now that the moment I decided to start treating myself like I was worth loving—no apologies, no holds barred—was the moment the Universe breathed a great big sigh of relief and said, “Finally.”
That’s when a man who’s called me beautiful every day since we first met found me. Things started clicking within minutes of me publishing that post.
For years I had assumed that everyone else saw me the way I saw myself: fat, unattractive, worthless. I know now just how deep my self-loathing went, and I wish I could go back and hug that old version of me.
That sort of thinking is a vicious cycle—the worse you think you are, the more you cut yourself off from others, which makes you feel even worse than you did before.
All I had to do was change my mind about myself, about what I was worthy of, about what I was willing to accept from others.
Bonus: Because I was so utterly myself—snarky, sassy, smart, sarcastic—I attracted someone who likes those qualities and I never have to pretend to be any other way.
If you’re in a situation where you feel as though you have to change yourself in order to measure up, or like you have to put up with someone else’s mess because you can’t do any better (be it in a relationship or a job), change your mind.
Know that it’s just your insane, misguided ego trying to keep you small and quiet—and that’s understandable, because your ego wants to avoid going out on a limb and possibly being hurt.
But you absolutely have to ignore that fearful voice and start speaking and living your truth anyway. And as soon as you put yourself out there, your life will start to change.
This doesn’t have to be anything on an epic scale—no Lifetime movies-of-the-week here. It can just be something as small as posting a rant online, claiming your worth, and announcing that you’ve had enough of feeling “less than.”
Maybe you’ll simply start holding yourself to a higher standard when it comes to the way you talk about yourself and others.
And maybe that new way of talking about yourself will leak into the way you talk to yourself. You might actually start smiling when you see yourself in the mirror.
You might then start seeing all the ways you’re playing small in your life, and you might start making subtle shifts in how you handle things going forward.
You’ll stop putting yourself last. You’ll start speaking up when a situation doesn’t feel right to you. You’ll stand a little stronger every day.
And the Universe will breathe a great big sigh of relief and say, “Finally.”
Photo by kris krüg
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5 Tips to Accept Your Imperfections, No Matter How Different You Feel
“I follow four dictates: face it, accept it, deal with it, then let it go.” ~Sheng Yen
Growing up different isn’t easy for anyone.
I was born normal, happy, and healthy. I had five fingers and five toes. I reached all my developmental milestones and showed promise as a vivacious, energetic child. It all changed when I was ten months old.
I became violently ill with bacterial meningitis. I battled the infection with a strength I was naturally graced with at birth. One week into my hospital stay, I was finally able to lift my head; two weeks later, I was back home.
I was lucky to escape with my life from the meningitis. When it’s not fatal, it can result in long-term complications, such as low IQ, cognitive impairment, loss of limbs, and learning difficulties, to name a few.
I came away with profound hearing loss. Not quite deaf, but enough loss to have it impact on my daily functioning.
At seven years of age, I got my first pair of hearing aids. It opened my world to a whole new experience. I could hear a lot more and I have this vivid memory of hearing a leaf scatter across the pavement for the first time. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what that noise was.
It brought challenges along with it too.
I was known as the kid with “the things in her ears.” I was bullied for being different. I hung out with the boys playing football and cricket because the girls didn’t want a bar of me.
It left me emotionally dead. I was really good at burying all the pain inside and trudging along every day.
I became a master robot—a mechanical human being incapable of trusting and feeling. It was my survival mechanism doing its best to avoid accepting who I really am.
Entering the real world after school became a shock. Out of my comfort zone, I had to enter a world of large groups, noisy parties where I couldn’t hear what anyone was saying, large lecture rooms, and meeting new people. I had to suddenly be more than okay with my hearing loss.
I had to be okay with being a little different.
It was the biggest lesson of my life—my own perceived fears are far more powerful than anything else.
I perceived people would treat me different or look at me differently if I told them I had hearing loss. By believing this, I practically encouraged them to treat me differently without realizing it.
So there I was, in my late teens, brewing with years of buried emotions and a confronting new reality of accepting who I am. So what did I do? Partied hard of course. The emotions came out in a flurry of binge drinking and hangovers worthy of a death bed.
It took me three years to finally wake up. Three years to finally realize that I must accept every part of me in order to live the life I want. Negative emotions continue to build up when we cannot accept ourselves for who we really are, and burying our emotions is no different to avoiding our true self.
Accepting who we are is a beautiful, bone-achingly hard thing to do. It’s about being vulnerable, consciously opening our eyes to our flaws, and seeing them in a whole new light. It hurts at first, but it’s a pain worth a thousand lifetimes.
By changing our perception to see our flaws as neutral traits that are both good and bad, we change how we choose to react to things. It will ultimately change our life for the better.
I’ve learned to see the benefits of my hearing loss. I’m a world-class lip reader who can probably “hear” better than you in loud settings. I’m more visually aware and observant than most, which has been incredibly handy in understanding human behavior.
I had to face my hearing loss through accepting it as a genuine, unique part of me. I am absolutely in love with my life, despite all its challenges and pitfalls, and I have no doubt that if I didn’t have this unique part of me, I would be in a very, very different place.
If I could give you five tips to help you accept who you are, they would be this:
1. See your perceived flaws in a whole new light.
Nothing is ever completely good or completely bad. In fact, everything is in perfect, harmonious balance. Find the benefit of that one thing you have trouble accepting, and change your perception to see that it’s not so bad having it after all.
2. Practice gratitude daily.
We all have so much to be grateful for. Gratitude helps to cultivate a positive mindset, which will help you to accept yourself for who you really are.
Create a daily gratitude journal and list three things for which you are grateful. Do this in the morning to start your day on a positive note.
3. Recognize that you are not your thoughts.
We get so lost in the story that goes through our minds. Our egoistic mind is, in fact, our greatest storyteller. And too often, we believe everything it tells us.
Learn to recognize that thoughts are created by an egoistic, survival-focused mind. It sees the threat in everything. Start to separate yourself by asking your mind this: “Does this thought serve me and my purpose? Does this thought actually help me?”
4. Be vulnerable with others.
You will be pleasantly surprised to know that you are not alone in this big, beautiful world. Someone out there has gone through your tribulations and trials, and they will understand what you are going through.
We can feel so alone with our ego at times, so sharing with others can help us to see the light at the end of the tunnel. It also helps us to change our perception, as others can guide us to a different angle.
5. Look after yourself.
Eat a nourishing diet, move regularly, rest often, and be mindful. We, too often, underestimate how the mind and body work both ways. By looking after your body, you are creating a sacred environment for your true being. It makes acceptance a lot easier when you look after the house your soul resides in.
It wasn’t until I started applying these five tips that I finally began the arduous process of accepting every little part of me, including that ever so tough one of my hearing loss. Every day, I accept myself a little more.
I just want you to remember this: you are imperfectly perfect, just the way you are.
Photo by g-imagination
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You Are Enough (Even if You’re Not in a Relationship)
Tamara Levitt, the talented writer and illustrator who brought us the inspiring video Ode to Failure, has created another uplifting short film about being single. If you’ve ever felt that you’re lacking because you’re not in a relationship, this one’s for you!
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6 Things to Do When You Feel Small and Insignificant
“Tough times never last, but tough people do.” ~Robert Schuller
On nights when the stars shine bright in the Arizona desert, I remember to tell myself to pay attention to the universe’s handiwork. From space, the Earth is a mere speck in the galaxy. I am humbled by this knowing, by my smallness. I call it my Ratatouille moment.
Ratatouille is an animated movie that tells a story of a dreamer, a remarkable rat named Remy, who aspires to be a chef. Emerging from the sewers one day, Remy was shown a different vantage point of the city.
To his great surprise, Remy discovers that he’s been living in one of the most celebrated cuisine capital of the world, Paris.
Like Remy, I was lifted from my version of the gutters, a refugee camp, and exposed to a world of richer possibilities.
Americans know something of the Vietnam War, only if by name, as a thing that happened in a distant past, in a distant continent. The ones who fought in it knew firsthand the cost of going and the cost of returning home. They returned to a country that failed to appreciate their sacrifices; they defended an idealism no one understood. But they survived.
There was another group of survivor. What you may not know is that there was a third country involved. Laos. The US dropped more than two million tons of bombs on Vietnam’s neighboring country in an effort to thwart its enemy from moving food and weapons to strategic locations.
After the war was declared over, many Lao citizens were left homeless and took refuge in the neighboring country of Thailand. My family was among them.
And much like Remy’s world, inside a refugee camp, the only thought that existed on anyone’s mind was, how am I going to survive today?
Refugees are forced to live in the moment because they can’t fathom a future beyond tomorrow.
Food, when available, came in the form of a packet of dry protein handed out by missionaries. Most times, you are left scampering for meals that others throw away, buying meat that was left sitting too long in the sun, and making do with what kindhearted merchants were willing to give away.
But like Remy, I saw my life taking shape beyond my family’s makeshift, one-room thatched hut. Something planted itself in my heart.
I knew I didn’t belong here, and that where I belong was a world beyond the barbed wire fences that kept my family in.
The hope that was in me was due in part to my courageous mother. She taught herself English by using a tattered Thai-English dictionary. Then she taught me, her little daughter, all that she learned.
When others accepted that this was their lot, my mother had the audacity to see beyond her circumstances.
I’m grateful for this remembrance and for my Ratatouille moments.
We need a dose of humility from time to time. And if our humility serves to bring appreciation and a broader perspective of our place in the universe, feeling small once in a while is healthy.
But then there are times when I feel small in an unhealthy way. It’s that crashing wave of emotion that comes at you like a tsunami, leaving you with a dignity crushing, self-reducing kind of insignificance.
While it’s happening, I feel completely blindsided by it. But after it passes, I can usually spot some triggers. All of them points to change.
Though I make light of them, see if you recognize any of these scenarios.
Career Change
Your boss did not appreciate your contribution. You salvaged the last shred of dignity and quit. You took the leap of faith, followed your passion, and birthed that passion project. The world ignores your talent.
Value and Lifestyle Change
Discovering your true value in life, you rid yourself of the fancy cars and the fancy home. Your spouse, however, does not share your fervor for the minimalist lifestyle and served you divorce papers.
Lost of Support System
Furthermore, since you no longer pick up the tab, your old pals stopped calling. Your hygiene suffers. Then you become too depressed to leave the house and make new friends. Without family, friends, and your material possessions, like a TV to fill up your time, you are left to contemplate life.
You feel lost.
But you are not.
The only thing you lost is the hand-me-down values. The most important person in the world found you. You.
Don’t feel it in this moment? It’s okay. Sit with it. Change feels like death because your old self is dying. But with every winter, there follows a spring. Allow yourself to have the bad feeling.
But don’t let yourself linger there too long.
Recognize this set of numbers? 000. It’s a reset position. You are starting at zero. An unhealthy mind will see this as a place of failure. An undefeatable spirit will see this as a blank canvas with wondrous possibilities.
Believe me when I say your mind will go into complete panic, paranoia, or pity party mode. If it shifts into any of these modes, you will sink into the quick sand of despair. Cut it off. Here are six things that can help.
6 Things That May Help When You Feel Small
1. Get out of the house.
Just the fact that you are out in the sun and breathing fresh air will lift your spirits.
2. Stand tall.
Just changing your posture changes your mood. Throw that shoulder back, chin up, smile. Smiling will trick your mind into thinking it’s happy even when you are not.
3. Have a car karaoke.
Simon Cowell’s not there to judge, so belt out your favorite tunes. For me, when Joan Jett is singing, “I Love Rock ‘n Roll,” my inner rocker chick cannot be denied. Drum on that dashboard. Strum the air guitar. But don’t take your eyes off the road.
4. Volunteer in your community.
It will give you a sense of purpose. You are needed. You have something to offer: your time. That’s rich.
5. Donate something to Goodwill.
You will feel rich instantly. You have things of value that you can afford to give away.
6. Pay a checkout clerk or any service person you come in contact with a lavish praise.
See how you have the power to make their day? You just made them feel big.
What helps you when you feel small?
Photo by Ryan Hyde
