Tiny Buddha

Tag: wisdom

  • Why Resistance Isn’t a Bad Thing and What to Do About It

    Why Resistance Isn’t a Bad Thing and What to Do About It

    Hiding

    “Worry looks around, fear looks back, faith looks up, guilt looks down, but I look forward.” ~Unknown

    I moved houses a couple of weeks ago. It was the perfect opportunity to take a break, pause and reflect, and decide on the directions I wanted my small business to take.

    And I did just that: I rested, took the time to think and get über clear about what I wanted to do next and how, revamped my offerings, made a super duper inspiring goal list and… decided that getting to know our neighbors’ cats was far more fascinating than, you know, work.

    It didn’t take me long to realize what was going on here: my old friend resistance was paying me a visit, and it didn’t want to leave anytime soon.

    When I see resistance, I usually choose to either push through (and end up so tired I could sleep for a month), or give in and get nothing done (resistance: 1, Emmanuelle: 0).

    This time I chose a new road. I chose to see it. To hear it. To listen to it.

    Acknowledge

    The first thing I did was to acknowledge resistance. It was my reality, it was there; I could not deny it. So instead of playing ostrich and burying my head in the sand, I chose to face what was really going on and become present to it.

    When you feel something that you don’t really want to feel, the first step in letting it go is acknowledging it, accepting that it is what it is, that it is your current reality.

    Feel the fear…

    Now that I was seeing the resistance, its true colors were showing. Because you see, resistance is a disguise, and what hides beneath is fear.

    It could be fear of failure. It could be fear of success. It could be fear of falling flat on your face and making a fool of yourself. What is hiding beneath resistance, what is holding you back from taking that next big bold step ?

    For me, it was fear of being seen. Fear of exposing myself in such a way that it brought back my insecurities and blocks. Fear of going to a new level and failing miserably, because apparently that is what was supposed to happen, right? Right.

    … and do it anyway

    That’s when I made another decision.

    Once I recognized my fear, I chose to have a chat with her. Yes she’s a she, a pre-teen hiding in the dark corner of the room, curled up into a ball. It’s much easier to have a conversation with your fear once you can see it as a person. And the truth is, it is usually a version of yourself, the dark version, the shadow you don’t want anyone to see.

    So I had this conversation with her. I told her I knew she was trying to protect me from the unknown, she was trying to keep me safe, but everything was going to be all right. I told her I was going to make sure she wouldn’t go through this again, because I committed to do my 100% best at all times.

    She smiled, opened up, and reached for my hand. She said she was going to watch, but she knew she could trust me. She knew I could trust myself.

    And you can, too.

    When resistance shows up, first acknowledge it, invite it to come in, and identify the fear behind it . Use that fear to propel you to do your 100% best at all times. That scared person in the dark corner of the room? Let him or her become your best friend and your fuel.

    Here is the thing with resistance and fear: When you decide to think and play bigger, to show up like you’ve never done before, to make bold moves, resistance will show up, there is no way around it.

    It’s part of the process; it means that you are on the threshold, waiting to take the next step toward another level of consciousness, another level of being.

    Resistance is here for you to make a choice : stay on the threshold, or look forward and step up.

    Which one will it be?

    Photo by r.f.m. II

  • 4 Ways to Embrace Slow Change When You’re Feeling Impatient

    4 Ways to Embrace Slow Change When You’re Feeling Impatient

    Time

    “Change is not a process for the impatient.” ~Barbara Reinhold

    I love it when change happens quickly. Sometimes things just click, and everything shifts all at once.

    When I met the man who’d become my husband, we were married only thirteen months later, and in those thirteen months we both transformed to our very cores.

    The problem is that those thirteen months aren’t the entire story. They cut off the three years of intense personal work I did before I met him, all the while wishing to be in a healthy relationship.

    Without those three years of work (and the years of work he did before meeting me), we couldn’t have moved that fast from a healthy place. We would have been living a fantasy.

    I’ve done that before in relationships—pretended that I was changing faster than I was. Eventually the bubble would burst, and we’d need to see where we really were.

    Real change usually takes a long time.

    So how do we deal with this? How can we embrace three (or one, or five, or thirteen) years of working on a change without caving in to our impatience?

    1. Find ways to get the qualities you’re wanting right now.

    Some of the qualities I wanted out of my changed relationship pattern were love, companionship, and adventure.

    There are plenty of ways to connect to those qualities without actually being in a relationship. I went on adventures with my roommates, talked things over companionably with my best friend, and learned to accept love from myself and those around me.

    Not only does this help you feel better in the moment, it also helps you begin the inner changes that lead to outer change.

    (Sneaky benefit: sometimes we only think we want something, and that’s why it hasn’t happened yet for us. When we connect to the qualities behind the change we’d like to make, we get what we’re really wanting, whether it goes according to plan or not.)

    2. Trick yourself back to the present moment.

    When my “internal committee” is throwing a small fit about how long something seems to be taking, I call its bluff.

    So you think it’ll take me ten years to get to the place where I can have the kind of relationship I’m wanting?

    Well in five years, would I rather be five years closer to that desire or not? In eleven years? In two months?

    Usually even my most stuck-in-the-mud resistance answers “yes” to all those questions. So then I bring us back to the present.

    Since I know I want to move forward on this no matter how long it takes, what’s one action I can do now to embrace the change I’m making, slow as it may be?

    (Sneaky benefit: though you’re focusing on the future, this gets you back into cultivating the qualities you’d like in the present moment, which is the only place you really live anyway.)

    3. Make friends with your resistance.

    If you could wave a magic wand, right this moment, and have the change you’re wanting, would you feel 100% satisfied with it?

    Hopefully at least part of you says “no,” because that means you have information on where to work.

    If a small part of you thinks that a relationship sounds rather terrifying, then you can ask it what needs to change so you can feel safe.

    Maybe you need to learn better boundaries. Maybe you need to choose better partners. Maybe you need to feel more comfortable receiving love from yourself first.

    Repeat this often enough, and you’ll have connected with all the parts of you that need to change.

    (Sneaky benefit: this helps you make a change from a place of wholeness and alignment, instead of running roughshod over parts of yourself to get what other parts of you want.)

    4. Let it be hard.

    Positivity is a wonderful thing, but forced positivity puts you in resistance to what’s really going on in you.

    So take ten or fifteen minutes to let it be hard.

    Write a rant in your notebook.

    Ask a friend for a hug.

    Listen to a sad song and cry a bit.

    When you free up the energy trapped in the sadness (or anger, or fear—whatever you feel), you may find it easier to embrace change with grace.

    (Sneaky benefit: this is also a backdoor to wholeness. While wallowing in negativity is usually counterproductive, giving yourself time to grieve helps you heal.)

    How about you?

    What changes are you working toward that you really wish would just happen already? What helps you deal with your impatience?

    Photo by Hartwig HKD

  • A Little Spark of Kindness

    A Little Spark of Kindness

    A Little Spark of Kindness

    Source: Sweet Little Mz Mia

  • Finding the Courage to Let Go of the Familiar and Make a Change

    Finding the Courage to Let Go of the Familiar and Make a Change

    Walk Away

    “Courage is the power to let go of the familiar.” ~Raymond Lindquist

    I’ve been processing my beliefs on courage since I turned 31.

    When I was in my 20s and teens, my idea of courage was that you fight until the death, never give up, be the one to say the last word, and always, always prove your point. And yet, I spent most of those years feeling unseen and unheard by my family and friends.

    I felt completely isolated and exhausted, yet I wasn’t expressing these feelings. (Not to say I hold regret; in my journey I had to seek and exhaust what didn’t work before fumbling my way to what could.)

    On the day of my 30th birthday, I found myself stuck in an unsatisfying four-year relationship, feeling so much pain, but I lacked the strength to move on. During those four years, I felt more and more isolated.

    Some research suggests that isolation is the most terrifying and destructive feeling a person can endure.

    In their book The Healing Connection, Jean Baker Miller and Irene Pierce Stiver define isolation as “a feeling that one is locked out of the possibility of human connection and of being powerless to change the situation.”

    I felt I had lost my self-respect and power, and that made me feel trapped and ashamed. As painful as it was to feel that way, it also felt familiar and comfortable. I was drowning with no life raft, holding my own head underwater.

    Part of me was staying because I didn’t believe I would feel worthy or complete until I saved my then-boyfriend and the relationship.

    At the same time, I wasn’t voicing my needs or feelings. I was expecting and depending on someone else to change instead of changing myself.

    Perhaps this is the gift when relationships don’t work out: We learn where we are not loving or accepting ourselves. Relationships bring to light the wounds we have yet to heal. For that, I am grateful.

    Once I recognized that the relationship had served a divine purpose—that the experience had happened for me, not to me—I was able to move on.

    I’ve learned that the experience of shame traps us in self-defeating cycles; we feel unworthy and powerlessness to change our life conditions.

    It also prevents us from seeing and representing our authentic selves. Then instead of airing it out and clearing the water, we muddy it further by keeping it all inside.

    Familiarity can be more comforting than the uncertainty of what will happen after we let go and jump into the abyss, but we have to ask ourselves what we value more: comfort or growth?

    Richard Schaub wrote, “Surrender is an active decision, an act of strength and courage, with serenity as its reward.”

    Perhaps courage, for me, meant not hanging on and pushing through, but accepting the hurt, surrendering the need for certainty, and making the active choice to break the silence and begin clearing up the water.

    I have learned that as unique as our stories may be, we all struggle with the same fundamental fears and we all lose our belief in ourselves. We all feel alone and isolated at times, and that leaves us feeling powerless.

    When we get stuck in toxic behaviors and relationships and we feel trapped in this vicious cycle, we need to ask ourselves, “What do we stand to lose by not changing?”

    For me, I stood to lose my authentic self, my integrity, my spirit, and the opportunity to live my best life.

    It takes courage to be completely honest with ourselves about what’s keeping us stuck.

    It took courage for me to accept that I was staying in an unsatisfying relationship because it was familiar, and even harder to acknowledge the shame and unworthiness I felt for being too scared to face the truth.

    To feel worthy and take control back, I first needed to feel accepted and connected.

    Sharing my story helped with that, and helped me release my shame. Shame and fear can hide in silence, but have a hard time lingering around when shared in a loving space.

    When we don’t tell our stories, we miss the opportunity to experience empathy and move from isolation to connection. Breaking the cycle ultimately means breaking the silence.

    To begin my healing, I started by cultivating a loving space within myself. I then stumbled into a Buddhist meditation center.

    I talked and cried with others struggling with the same challenges of fear and uncertainty. I took up yoga and explored the scary places of myself. I even I booked a trip to Thailand to volunteer and experience a new culture.

    I took to heart Red’s advice from “The Shawshank Redemption”: Get busy living, or get busy dying.

    To do that, we need to recognize that the pain of staying the same is greater than the risk of making a change, and it’s worth facing the fear of uncertainty.

    Who knows what the future holds, and perhaps that is part of the beauty of life. Each moment is fresh and new and maybe, just maybe, that’s what makes it so precious.

    What’s your idea of courage and how can you expand your pain into growth? How could you reframe the situations in your life to see them as happening for you, not to you?

    And if you are in a spot in your life where you feel scared to take a risk, ask yourself: what do you stand to lose if you don’t change?

    Photo by monkeywing

  • Create Your Own Tomorrow

    Create Your Own Tomorrow

    Create Your Own Tomorrow

    Source: themetapicture.com

  • 4 Questions to Help You Know When to Say No

    4 Questions to Help You Know When to Say No

    “It is not enough to be busy; so are the ants. The question is: what are we busy about?” ~Henry David Thoreau

    A couple of years ago my friends and I went on a weekend retreat to honor our dear friend’s fortieth birthday. It was supposed to be a relaxing weekend filled with yoga and meditation at an ashram in the mountains.

    But I had a serious problem with the retreat: I actually brought work with me! As an educator, it seems I am perpetually behind with my grading. And so I brought a whole stack of midterm exams with me to grade in my “free time.”

    There I sat, alone in the cabin, while everyone else was hiking or chanting or taking a yoga class.

    After grading just a few exams, it hit me just how wrong the whole scenario was. I was at an ashram in the mountains, for goodness sake, and here I was working.

    I had so many obligations connected with my job and my children and my community that I felt my only option was to keep going.

    And then I broke down. I started to cry as I thought about what I might be doing to myself. Can I go any further living like this, I asked myself.

    I started to doubt my ability to handle the life I had created for myself.

    I continued to cry until my friend Karen came back to the cabin. I confided in her that I was at a loss about what to do. I was extremely stressed out and saw no way out.

    She asked me about what I had going on. Well, one issue was I had committed to attend a meeting months before I knew that my daughter’s band concert was the same night. And I felt obligated to go to the meeting.

    Karen asked me what I was doing at the meeting: Was I running it? Was I speaking at it? Would it fall apart without me? Well, no, I admitted. I was just supposed to attend.

    And what would happen if you canceled, she asked next. I thought for a moment and realized that nothing would happen.

    So when I got back from the weekend, I emailed the meeting organizer and told her I had to go to my daughter’s concert. And guess what? It was fine; she said she completely understood.

    Then I started really getting into the saying “no” mood. Next, I declined to take on a project I was asked to work on. I stopped myself from agreeing to be on a church committee.

    I was going “no” crazy. But it felt wonderful. My stress level dropped dramatically and I felt free.

    I still have a lot on my plate. But I’ve gotten to the point where I can differentiate between what I must do, what I really and truly want to do, and what I don’t need or want to do.

    Another way of saying this is that I have learned to prioritize my time.

    So if you tend to over commit like I did, slow down for a minute and ask yourself the same kinds of questions Karen asked me:

    1. Do you absolutely have to do whatever it is you are contemplating taking on?

    We do have to do many things… for our families, our friends, our jobs. But a lot of times we just think we have to do something because of a sense of obligation or because we’ve always done it that way.

    To gain a different perspective on the situation, try taking a step back from the automatic thinking of “I have to do this” and ask yourself a few questions:

    What would happen if I didn’t do it? Would everything fall apart? Or could things go on without my help?

    2. Do you really and truly want to do it?

    Sometimes we don’t even know the answer to this question. What do we really want out of life?

    In order to prioritize our time, we need to know ourselves well enough to know what matters. And getting to know ourselves takes time, but a good starting place is again asking some key questions:

    What kinds of activities make you happiest or relaxed, free, focused, content, connected, alive?

    It helps me to think about the big picture of my life: What do I want to be able say I did with my life? This is kind of like my vision statement for my life. And then I can ask myself how individual activities fit into that overall plan.

    3. What will you get out of it?

    This doesn’t have to be a financial benefit or a plus for your career; it could be helping out the community or learning something new or spending time with your family.

    But whatever you might get out of it, just make sure that it is really important to you.

    It can be difficult to sort out when to put your priorities first over obligations to others. Sacrificing our time and our own wants for others is a part of life.

    But if you sacrifice too much of yourself for others, there is nothing left over for you. And pretty soon you have nothing left to give others.

    A balance between doing for yourself and doing for others is necessary. You can gauge if you are striking this balance by paying attention to your stress levels and how often you allow yourself to do something just for you.

    4. How much time do you have to devote to something new?

    The flip side of this question is: What will you have to give up to spend time on this new endeavor?

    In the end, the very bottom line is whether or not it is a priority for you. Think about what you want to do with your life, how you want to spend your time, and what would make you happiest.

    Discover that saying “no” to some things is absolutely liberating. It frees you up to focus on the things that are most important and really mean something to you.

    Don’t follow my lead by getting so overwhelmed with commitments that you break down and see no way out. Follow my lead with my new approach and prioritize your commitments.

    And don’t be afraid to say “no” even after you’ve said “yes.” Things happen; people change their mind; schedules change. That’s life, and most people understand that.

    Asking yourself a few key questions about priorities will start you on the path to more freedom and more time for the things you really want to do with your life.

  • When Your Friend’s Happy News Fills You with Envy Instead of Joy

    When Your Friend’s Happy News Fills You with Envy Instead of Joy

    “It is in the character of very few men to honor without envy a friend who has prospered.” ~Aeschylus

    It’s crazy, isn’t it?

    Your best friend enthusiastically shares some big news. You say all the right things and display the right emotions. But inside you’re burning up. Instead for feeling truly happy, you’re filled with uncontrollable envy.

    It’s not that you’re a bad person. You really want to feel happy for your friend. You really want to get rid of these feeling of envy. But in the moment, you just can’t.

    When the Green-Eyed Monster Took Me Over

    A few years back my closest friend told me she was pregnant. I responded with appropriate excitement, said the right words, and showed the right emotions. But with each smile, word, and act of joy, I died a little bit inside.

    The first chance I got to be alone, I wept bitterly. It seemed so unfair that while I’d been trying unsuccessfully for over four years, she got pregnant within a month of getting off the pill. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted a baby yet!

    Bad as all this misery was, I felt worse that I had these feelings in the first place. She’s always been a good friend to me, and here I was, seemingly incapable of being happy for her.

    I tried applying conventional wisdom—replace my envy with gratitude, look at all the good things I had, and stop worrying about what I didn’t. But I found out the hard way that’s not how it works in real life.

    I was worried. I feared that if I didn’t get over this feeling I might lose a very good friend. Worse, I might lose myself and become a bitter, resentful person.

    It took quite some effort to finally come of the situation without ruining my friendship or letting it poison my soul. Here are some of the lessons I learned along the way:

    1. Envy is a strong involuntary feeling that you cannot get rid of by just wishing or willing it away.

    Nobody gets up in the morning thinking, “Today I’m going to feel unhappy for my friend’s happiness.” (At least, I hope not!) And yet, sometimes when we want something bad and find that our friend got it instead, it fills us up with envy. It’s not pleasant. It’s not welcome. But it’s there.

    Just because you don’t like it, you can’t wish or will it away.

    Research has found that thought suppression is often ineffective, and can actually increase the frequency of the thought being suppressed.

    In an experiment, researchers found that subjects asked not to think about a white bear paradoxically couldn’t stop thinking about it. Other studies explored this paradox further, and support the finding that trying to suppress a thought only makes it more ingrained.

    So first thing, stop trying to get rid of these thoughts. Accept them for what they are—normal feelings that arise in a normal human being.

    2. Nail down the source of your envy to let the person who made you envious off the hook.

    At first glance it may seem like the person who made you envious is the source of your envy. However, if you dig a little deeper, you may realize that the reason you feel envious has little to do with the person who brought out the feelings.

    In my case, the real source of my feelings was that I desperately wanted a baby. Sure, the fact that my friend got what I didn’t triggered the feeling of envy, but the source was my want and my fear that my want won’t be met.

    3. Let this knowledge lead you toward personal growth instead of resentment and bitterness.

    At this point you have a choice. You know that there is something you want but can’t have. Will you become resentful of those who can, or will you make peace with the way things are?

    I knew there was nothing that my friend could do about my inability to get pregnant. I also realized how illogical it was to expect that nobody in this world have a baby just because I couldn’t.

    It didn’t mean that I stopped feeling envious instantly; I still desperately wanted to have what my friend had. But separating the source of my feeling from the person made it possible to feel happy for her, in spite of my continued feelings of envy.

    Ever so slowly, I started to feel excited about her pregnancy and the opportunity to experience the miracle of a baby through her.

    4. Focus your attention on addressing the source of your envy, instead of trying to eliminate the feeling.

    Your envy is probably here to stay—for a while anyway. Instead of fighting it, address the source of it.

    I knew deep down that four years was a long time to wait to have a baby. But I hated to face it head on. When I realized how easily I fell prey to the green-eyed monster, I knew it was time to take my head out of the sand and deal with the issue.

    I started infertility treatment. My friend was right there by my side as my biggest source of support through this emotionally exhausting roller coaster. In turn, I was able to share with her the excitement of her pregnancy. In fact, it was a huge motivation to keep going on rough days when all I wanted to do was give up and curl into a ball.

    I finally got lucky. Five months after she delivered her son, my daughter was born. Our friendship had survived the difficult test.

    The Green-Eyed Monster Is Never Too Far Away

    I could probably stop right there, and that would be a fine place to wind this story up. But I promised to keep this real, so here’s the rest of it.

    The year that I had my daughter, three of my other close friends had their first kids too, in addition to this one. It was as if the stork had declared a “friends and family” promotional event.

    In the subsequent years, however, it was clear that my little tryst with the stork was over. All my friends had their second kids, but my attempts at growing the family further just did not pan out.

    As my friends got pregnant one after the other and had babies, I looked at their growing bellies and subsequently, their tiny little bundles of joy with longing.

    Even though it’s been years since we’ve decided to move on, I still wish at times that my daughter had a sibling to share her life with. And at odd times, I still feel pangs of envy about my friends’ perfect families.

    Then I remind myself: while you really can’t stop feeling a sense of envy every now and then, you can choose how you deal with it.

    What’s your choice?

  • Happy Art: Be Yourself

    Happy Art: Be Yourself

    Be Yourself

    Source: Happy Art

  • You Can Make a Difference: Just Open Your Eyes

    You Can Make a Difference: Just Open Your Eyes

    See the World

    “Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does.” ~William James

    My mind wasn’t able to percieve the reality around me. It had been ten days since I’d woken up with a feeling of constant energy flowing through my whole body.

    It was so intense that I didn’t want to let it go. But I wasn’t ready for it. It was way too much for my unprepared body and mind. I didn’t even know what it was back then.

    Everything had happened so fast. I was on the way to Chicago with my friends after seeming to check out mentally. They wanted to help me by bringing me to a clinic, but the fear was stronger.

    Suddenly it grabbed me and made me jump out of the car. I started running in the opposite direction. Then I saw the fast moving vehicle coming…

    The highway was dark and cold. My body was lying down on the pavement and I was looking at it from above. My friends were crying around it, and I left the world.

    In the next moment I had reached my final destination, the place of pure love, bliss, and unity with all that exists. The place that we can not even explain with our limited-by-the-physical-reality minds. The place where we are all one.

    Then I felt a mighty force that drew me back.

    There was a light in the tunnel, with thousands of small episodes of my previous life on the walls. Tiny memories of who I was before leaving the world of forms as we know it.

    It was so beautiful. Then I got back into my physical body and opened my eyes. The pain was incredible, yet somehow distant. I was in a fast moving ambulance on the way to Springfield, Illinois.

    “What am I doing back here?” was my first conscious thought.

    I had no memories at all. I was all wiped out, like a brand new hard drive that just came out of the factory. I learned that some of my forehead was missing and my right knee was smashed.

    Doctors told my parents and my friends that I wouldn’t make it. I disagreed. I love this beautiful life too much to leave it.

    Four hours with a great team of surgeons followed, and another trip back to this unexplainable place beyond the perception of our minds. And again, there was this force that needed to send me back to Earth, as I didn’t really want to leave.

    A huge smile on my face. My first titanium peace was on. “Yeah! I’ll be like Ironman,” were my words before going in for surgery. I will never forget the look on the surgeon’s face after he heard that.

    It was quite funny not to know what to do with the spoon the nurse gave me for my first meal after the operation. She showed me how to hold it. Everything was so delicious.

    Miracles occurred. The doctors couldn’t believe I was so happy and smiling so widely.

    Then my parents came and the doctors let me go after a few consultations with the psychiatric department. My mind was clear like never before. This was one of my gifts, along with the energy that was, and still is, inside of me.

    I was passing twenty miles a day on my bike two weeks after the accident, doing hundreds of pushups and pull-ups afterwards. The energy inside my body was so incredibly powerful that I simply had to use it.

    My memories were coming back slowly. With every passing day I was putting more and more of them together—and I’m still remembering today.

    I received more than seventy thousand dollars worth of bills in the mail. Still, there was a smile on my face. I knew my only choice was bankruptcy, but I didn’t let it get me down—I was starting over.

    I’ve learned that even when things seem impossible, there is always a way. When there is a will, there is a way. We just need to let go of the fears that keep us stuck. Fear doesn’t serve us. It limits us and prevents us from reaching our full potential. 

    My heart is still filled with gratitude for all those men and women who took care of my body.

    I sent them my blessings, and then I left. Bye bye US. It was a pleasure. I bought a one-way ticket back to Eastern Europe. Welcome to Bulgaria, the country where I was born. It was almost five years since I had last seen it last. Family and friends met me at the airport with smiles and warm hugs.

    Years of meditation and self-observation followed. I had to find out what exactly happened. And I did.

    I was dwelling on my doubts and losing faith in myself. I wasn’t feeling unity with the people and the world around me. I was crying and giving up sometimes, but rising up again and continuing forward.

    You will most probably feel the same at times.

    We’re all on own unique path to self-realization. It’s a process. But if you keep walking, no matter how slow it appears sometimes, you will reach your destination. Then you can choose your next one and keep going toward it again, far stronger than you were before.

    There was struggling. There was irritation. There was love. There was compassion. There was pain. There were tears. There was laughter. There was pride. There was fear. There was courage. And sometimes it wasn’t so clear.

    It was a snowy Sunday when I went to my first self-development workshop. At the end I had the chance to share part of my story. It was the most satisfying feeling of all. Then everything started falling into place. I knew what I needed to do.

    One morning I started writing. And I wrote and wrote and wrote, day and night. My first book was on the way. It came out one year later.

    In the meantime, I spent hours preparing to be a speaker. Nothing happens without putting in time and effort. There is no shortcut to achieving your goals. You need to work on your skills and develop them as best as you can. And keep doing it after. Every day.

    Workshops followed lectures and speeches. Two blogs in two different languages. A second book, too. Great people, places, and moments of love, abundance, and gratitude.

    But most of all there was belief, a belief in my self. There was a knowing—that I have something unique to share with the world around me.

    And you have too. Yes, I’m talking to you. Don’t look behind your back. I really mean you.

    You are simply amazing. Right here, right now. You have some extraordinary experience you can share with us too. Please do. We all need it.

    We all need you to reach inside yourself, remember your deepest dreams and desires, and share your passion, as life is meant to be shared.

    Many times I thought about how insignificant I am. Have you done the same? It’s a lie that we’ve been told many times. It’s time for it to go away. You don’t need it anymore.

    You are great and you have something important to share. Remember? It comes back slowly, I know. I’ve been there. It takes time to break the program and wipe the slate clean of all the negative beliefs. But it’s worth it, every single moment.

    Are you ready? To see things differently? Just open your eyes.

    Photo by Rareclass

  • How to Find Your Purpose When Your Life Is a Mess

    How to Find Your Purpose When Your Life Is a Mess

    “What is my purpose here and how may I serve…in the midst of all this confusion?” ~Wayne Dyer

    Your life is a mess and you can’t do anything about it, right?

    Wrong.

    You may be closer to the answers than you think, even while right in the middle of the chaos that showed up.

    You ask yourself, “What happened to the life I had where I knew my purpose?”

    All you know is that a rug you didn’t know you were standing on was pulled out from underneath you, leaving you in a heap. You want a magic carpet to take you out of this craziness so you can find yourself a new world that’s nicer to you.

    Not long ago, that’s what I wanted too.

    One day I was minding my own business, feeling on purpose, and the next…

    California called my name and I listened. I felt all smug and purposeful in the sand and sun of Los Angeles as a stay-at-home mom. I knew my purpose as a mother after spending years in a corporate financial cubicle in New York, and I loved it.

    Along came the cyclone of lost spousal income and a dry job market. The dark winds of change (and a landlord that wanted his rent) moved us over to the shores of New Jersey. A better job was waiting.

    But the jobs didn’t work out, and the mailbox filled with eviction letters and power shut off notices. The nights got cold, and as I lay bundled near my children, I knew something had to change fast. Only I didn’t know what to do first.

    I just wanted the confusion and chaos to end so I could figure out what my purpose in all this was.

    Does this sound familiar? Do you believe you can find your purpose while in chaos?

    The following three steps will help you stop focusing on your problems and make room in your life for your purpose to reveal itself.

    1. Give away your time for free.

    Clear your mind of your problems for a moment by finding someone or some organization that needs a skill you have, and offer it for free, even if just for an hour.

    This may sound like you are being irresponsible; shouldn’t you be spending all your time finding a solution to your life—a job, or a loan perhaps? No. Take a break and step away from the spinning mind; it will be there when you get back.

    The Result: Volunteering makes you feel purposeful and grateful for what you do have, what you can offer. Service and gratitude are a magical combination that comes back to help you tenfold.

    You may even gain some new perspective about your life and purpose. Perhaps you will network, or be inspired to apply for a job you have not thought about before.

    2. Get moving.

    You can easily feel immobile when going through a crisis. Close your eyes and imagine a white light coursing through your blood to every part of your body, energizing it.

    If you can, get down on the ground and do a few pushups, or do some jumping jacks. Head out the door and walk until your feet hurt, or turn some music on and move, no excuses and no equipment needed.

    Choose an easy workout ritual to follow daily.

    The Result: The energy in your body gets shaken and shifted, and endorphins start to flow. You then crave healthy food, leading to a clear mind.

    The depressing thoughts disappear when you work out, and in this moment of clarity you can plan your next step. Perhaps you’ll think of someone that can help to call, or you’ll begin getting ideas about what your purpose is and how to go about living it.

    3. Stop and listen.

    Go to a place where you can sit in solitude and connect with your soul. Your soul is your partner forever and it needs attention; it will give you back as much as you give it.

    Sit under a tree, or on a bench in a busy city, or simply at a window, and breathe. Deeply.

    The Result: You are allowing your soul to guide you to the answers that your mind cannot seem to find about where this chaos is leading you.

    Deep in your soul is a knowing of what your purpose may be. Stop and listen to it. 

    These are the steps I took. I realized that I needed to get out of my mind and connect with my body and soul.

    • I started a four-minute workout every morning called The Peaceful Warrior Workout by Dan Millman. It’s awesome. Best part: it’s only four minutes. Every morning after doing this workout I felt better, good enough to reach out to anyone I thought could help me.
    • I spent time sitting alone on my steps at night, looking up at the stars, to consciously make soul contact. I felt peaceful, and I usually came inside with ideas that I could follow up on the next day.
    • I emailed twenty local recovery centers in my area and offered to do anything they needed for one hour a week. For free. (I am trained as a Holistic Addiction and Recovery Coach.)

    I got one response and started leading a weekly half-hour recovery meeting. The men and women in the meetings inspired me with their hope, strength, and courage exactly when I needed it. They saved me as much as I saved them.

    Their courage led me to write about it, and the essay ended up being published on the website for a magazine I dreamed of writing for all my life. I found my purpose as a writer once again, and the hopeless feelings disappeared.

    Life did not magically change, but when you know you are not staring down a scary path from a distance but are walking on the path, you access ideas and courage you did not have before. You feel deep down that you are living on purpose again.

    Your Path to Purpose

    Choose an area where you think you may want to serve and send out emails or make phone call offers. There are nursing homes full of people needing visitors, children in need of tutoring, and social service agencies available to guide you. Community gardens need gardening helpers and small businesses need an extra hand.

    Add a little workout ritual, maybe visualizing energy coursing through your blood while doing a few yoga poses or jogging outside. Or put music on at home and move around until you break a sweat.

    Find peace looking up at the sky, or out at passersby, or sitting in a park.

    You will realize that it’s a relief to take a break from thinking about your chaotic situation—and it’s productive. Stopping to calm your mind and connect with your body and soul is actually doing something!

    So go ahead and take a leap of faith. Have faith that you can find your purpose in the midst of confusion and chaos.

    And if you don’t have faith, pretend you do. Even a drop will do.

    When taking a step outside of your mind and connecting with your body and soul, your purpose may sneak up on you. So let it.

  • You are Enough: A Tiny Manual for Being Your True Self

    You Are Enough

    “Waking up to who you are requires letting go of who you imagine yourself to be.” ~Alan Watts

    When I was in third grade, I loved to hang upside down on the monkey bars on the playground of my all-girls school in Philadelphia.

    I would lock my little pale knees over the gray steel rods and then carefully let my hands go to swing upside down, like a pendulum in a pleated skirt.

    This meant I had to bravely trust that my normally feeble strength would be sufficient to suspend me.

    It was always a victorious feeling when the backs of my knees started to burn. This meant it was time to carefully return to earth on own my terms.

    Alix – 1, Gravity – 0!

    One day, a clump of dead grass attached itself to the sole of my Stride Rite. As I was flipping off the bars, it dropped into my mouth. I hit the ground gagging and spewing, completely grossed out.

    Doubled-over and hacking out the grass was not a little noisy. I made quite the scene; however, it failed to attract the attention of my teachers.

    They didn’t rush to my side to see why I was, for all intents and purposes, throwing up.

    “Throwing up” was a golden ticket to go home from school and I wanted to cash in.

    This is because I spent the first third of my life believing that in order to be validated, something needed to be physically wrong with me.

    The only attention I felt worthy of was sympathy. I thought ailments made me interesting.

    I was the kid who wanted a sprained ankle so I could get crutches. Do you know what the attention-getting street value of crutches is in kid world? It’s like friggin’ crack!

    And a broken leg? Think of the signatures!

    I wanted poison ivy so I could have bandages, “to keep from scratching.”

    The concerned questions were like gold: “Oh no! Are you okay?”

    I wasn’t going to let the fact that I am not allergic to poison ivy stop me from tapping into this potential cache of boo-boo love.

    One summer evening with the aid of red and orange magic markers, I drew a mock rash on my arm.

    Then I test-drove it with my family, who didn’t buy it. Thankfully, this ridiculous bit never made it out of R&D.

    To be clear, I got plenty of positive reinforcement at home. I was supported from dawn ‘til dusk by my loving family, for which I am intensely grateful. But I never felt like it really counted. In my kid’s mind, I reasoned that they had signed on to love me, and were biased.

    Plus, I was just one of those souls who required validation from the outside world.

    I felt that once I left the confines of my nest, that unless I was limping or retching, I was otherwise invisible. I needed to be a victim of something in order to matter.

    That day on the playground when my teachers ignored my blatant—and legitimate!—dead grass upset, I felt even more unseen which I didn’t even think was possible.

    Aren’t these paid-professional grown-ups supposed to acknowledge me when I’m in distress?

    Since I no doubt possessed a Chicken Little-esque flair for drama, they had probably grown immune to my antics by this juncture.

    I would cling to any and all ideas of pain in order to get the symp-attention that I craved.

    When I look back at this period in my childhood I just have to laugh at myself. Not only was I highly theatrical, but my level of insecurity was semie-staggering.

    Clearly, I did not think I was enough. In fact, it’s taken me the better part of three decades to make peace with the idea that I am not only enough, but that I am exactly who I am supposed to be.

    Growing up in the seventies and eighties I had all of these notions, largely fed by TV, pop culture, and my peers, about who I was supposed to be:

    The Breck Girl, a Charlie’s Angel, Wonder Woman (but I’d be happy to be Lynda Carter), and a career-bound (not a stay-at-home) Barbie.

    As I matured into my teens, I began to shed this billboard perception about life.

    My head was turned less by action-hero ladies with perfect hair and more by, well, if I’m being completely honest, cute boys who listened to the “right” music and wore Polo cologne.

    Now eager for their approval, I shaped myself into who I thought they wanted me to be: The girl in The Smiths’ “How Soon Is Now?” video.

    This only got me so far.

    When I graduated from high school, I moved to New York to model for a large agency. This was a dream come true.

    Before long, I was trying to figure out who the modeling industry wanted me to be: Edgy? Sexy? Wholesome? Commercial? Editorial? There were so many options and would never be a clear answer.

    Having looked at my life from the outside in for so many years was a hard habit to break.

    I was like a junkie for other people’s approval, permission, information, and maps.

    I thought everyone except me was issued a handbook about life.

    They seemed to “get it” while I was constantly scrambling to find my place in their world.

    Of course, I was laboring under a massive illusion that I was the only one who felt this way.

    Again, I have to look back and laugh.

    One day during my early twenties, the universe let me look under the hood and I was let in on a cosmic secret: tons of other people feel like they’re living without a manual. Lots of us are winging it, and being a little lost is how we actually come to find ourselves.

    This epiphany was such a relief that I stopped trying to be what I thought others wanted and started getting really good at being me.

    I would love to say that this powerful shift happened overnight, but no.

    The “just being me” remained a nuanced confidence-building process for a few more years (ten?) until I was able fully step into who I am in the world today.

    The wonder of it all—and another cosmic gut-buster—is that the more I align with my whole self, the more the world rushes into to meet me where I am.

    I venture that if there actually were a handbook issued at birth, it might go a little like this:

    1. You are a miracle. Never forget this fact. Just the science alone is mind blowing.

    2. You are unique. No one will ever be as good at being you as you are. Seriously.

    3. You are enough. Always. Never doubt this. There is nothing to add, but feel free to expand.

    4. There is always more to learn, but that is not failure; it’s a gift. It can be fun too.

    5. Every obstacle is an opportunity to fall further into the miracle that is you.

    6. Commit to being the best version of you every day. Recalibrate definition of “best” as needed.

    7. Leave room for others when they fall off the wagon of their own miracle.

    8. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive every which way. Forgive him. Forgive her. Forgive you.

    9. Compassion is the key to forgiveness. Compassion means you feel the humanity in others.

    10.The more you forgive, the more you’ll enjoy being you, because the lighter your load will be.

    11. In the end, as in the beginning: You. Are. Amazing.

    Photo by Emilian Robert Vicol

  • The 3 Pieces of Recovery from Addiction or Depression

    The 3 Pieces of Recovery from Addiction or Depression

    Mind Body Spirit

    “I now see how owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing that we will ever do.” ~Brené Brown

    When I started graduate school, it was safe to say that I was running away from things. I’d recently ended a nine-year relationship and I wasn’t planning on dealing with it.

    Upon the birth of my nephew, my father, a long-term addict, had begun rekindling his relationships with his three daughters. I didn’t recognize, though I should have, that this needed dealing with too.

    I began school so that I’d have something to pour my energy and feelings into wholeheartedly. And I did. It worked, at least for a while. I soon began to notice that I was increasingly unhappy in my new student position.

    While I had things I looked forward to, like teaching and program events, I spent my time alone watching television in bed and wishing I could be anywhere else, though I didn’t know where that might be.

    It was the closest I could ever remember feeling to depressed, a word that had long been whispered, though never addressed, in my family.

    There are few perks to being a graduate student, at least on paper, but one of them, for me, was school-funded student health insurance that included mental health care.

    I should mention that, although my family history certainly warrants mental health care, no one had ever sought it. If ongoing drug and alcohol addictions, divorce, and teenage pregnancy apparently didn’t warrant it, perhaps nothing would. But I was feeling pretty bad, and it was free.

    On the day I walked into the counselor’s office, I found two people from my very small program sitting in there.

    It was at first awkward and then comforting—each of us had found ourselves in a similar situation, and something about that Tuesday had summoned us to the office.

    Inside, I met with Krishna, a soft-spoken therapist who identified my family immediately as co-dependent and prone to addiction.

    I felt better already. She recommended that I be around animals and begin practicing yoga. I committed to both and began seeing Krishna every other week.

    Since I was a busy student and unable to commit to a pet, I decided to volunteer at a local animal shelter. Every Friday, I woke up at 6am to walk dogs for an hour before I went to teach. It was inspiring for a few reasons—one, it reminded me that things could be worse, and two, puppies.

    The animal capacity for cuteness and kindness is extraordinary, and I certainly felt better for having been around them.

    It is often said that volunteer work is a selfish task, designed to make the volunteer feel better for having done it. I don’t object to this, nor do I see anything wrong with it. Those dogs got me through graduate school.

    Next, I set out to learn to practice yoga. This was a scary goal because it seemed to showcase many of my fears and insecurities.

    I was self-conscious about my body and asked to put on body hugging clothes. I was uncomfortable being watched, and the eyes of the class would often be on me. Also, I’d never done yoga before and the thought of all of those skinny, stretchy people terrified me.

    With one of the girls I’d run into at the counselor’s office, I searched for a nonthreatening yoga class that I thought would meet my needs.

    Upon the recommendation of a friend, I joined a group with a focus on restorative yoga, mostly stretching, snacks at the end.

    I found a community of like-minded men and women interested in finding a mind/body/spirit balance to treat the various issues we were all dealing with. Is there anything that hurts today, our teacher would ask, mind or body?

    Because I come from a family of somewhat functional alcoholics going back as far as I can remember, I know that these parts of me may just be hidden, dormant for now.

    Yoga has allowed me to channel these possible proclivities into an activity that promotes physical and mental health, an activity that is no longer scary. It’s also my way of acknowledging that there is something outside of me, something larger than me, at work in the universe.

    Yoga is, for me, the acknowledgment of spirit.

    Recovery (from anything, addiction, depression, physical illness) requires the addressing of a triangle in its entirety—mind, body, and spirit. While counseling began to address the mind, yoga and puppies addressed both body and spirit. Learning this felt like my whole body sighing.

    While I’m not an addict, I can see how yoga would be useful there, too. A positive community, a refocus on the body, an attention to self-restraint and awareness that is hard to replicate.

    For me, breaking down the barriers and walls my family had tried so long create was no small feat. In acknowledging my own capacity for mental illness, I was able to begin a road to recovery that improved my health in many ways. That recognition and verbalization of ill feelings was, for me, essential to the healing process.

    In my professional life, I deal with this all the time—men and women struggling with mental disease, often accompanied by addiction, that lack the approval of families to move forward with treatment.

    For me, it was easier to say then to do. Eventually, though, it became a part of myself (this history of mental illness) that I was happy to disclose because it meant that I had begun recovery.

    Then, I suspected that I was alone. Now, I realize that it’s common to fear that acknowledging there’s a problem is failure.

    Be vocal, be active, be spiritual in any way that you find productive. Be alive.

    I have a triangle tattooed on my left foot to remind me that everything that goes to pieces also happens in pieces, even recovery. One, two, three: mind, body, spirit.

    Photo by HartwigHKD

  • Buddha Doodles: It’s Okay to Rest

    Buddha Doodles: It’s Okay to Rest

    Buddha_Doodles_rest_MollyHahn

    Source: Buddha Doodles

  • Learning to Enjoy the Process and Stop Worrying About the Outcome

    Learning to Enjoy the Process and Stop Worrying About the Outcome

    Happy

    “Slow down and everything you are chasing will come around and catch you” ~John De Paula

    Remember the Tasmanian Devil?

    That crazed Loony Tunes cartoon character spinning out of control, crashing into everything in his path? Arriving in a blur. Leaving chaos in its wake.

    That was pretty much me and my approach to “living my passion.”

    This is hard to write but here goes (deep breath)…

    Not too long ago I was seriously trying to accomplish all of these things at the same time:

    • Play in a rock and roll band of middle aged men living in New York City, rehearse regularly, play live shows, tour, and still play dad to a family of four.
    • Engineer and produce our own albums while simultaneously attempting to produce other artists to help them realize their artistic vision
    • Start my own blog to inspire awesomeness in other creators
    • Guest post for major blogs and write epic content regularly to help their audience and build up my own blog audience
    • Shoot my own videos, create graphics, and edit them (though I have little to no skills in any of these areas) for my blog
    • Write a novel and multiple eBooks
    • Design cool music themed apps
    • Stay gainfully employed (a day job I desperately wanted to quit to make more time for all of the above)
    • Practice meditation and find the deeper meaning to my life

    The idea was that my brilliant plan would eventually pay off and sustain my family completely so that I could:

    • Pay a New York City mortgage
    • Put food on the table
    • Make time for my two young children
    • Spend some quality alone time with my wife and stay married
    • Have the freedom to create more awesome art

    So how did that all work out, you might ask. Total disaster. Here’s a glimpse into my crazy Tazmanian lifestyle:

    I would commute to my day gig and write blog posts while standing up on crowded subway cars. I’d come home and have a quick dinner, hang out with the children, and pretend to listen as they would excitedly recount their day. But I wasn’t really present. Then I would dash off after their bedtime to my studio man cave to work on my music until the wee hours.

    Then I would collapse into bed every night, only to get up a few hours later and do it all over again. At the end of my self-imposed exile of several months, I would finally return home victorious, the proud father of a shiny new CD.

    But there was no applause in my household. Only a very chilly reception from an ever more distant wife who understood my passion but couldn’t accept its all-consuming nature or my many frazzled creative endeavors.

    Then I would spend the next few months trying to stitch back together our relationship. But the chasm between us was growing and heading to the point of no return, having repeated this scenario at least three times before since we had known each other.

    I knew something needed to change, and quickly, if I was going to try and stay married.

    How did I arrive here, you might ask.

    Simply put, I became a casualty of the Digital Revolution. A world where faster is better, multi-tasking is the national anthem, and technology will set you free to be more productive and make you more intelligent.

    Where you don’t need human interaction anymore. You can simply “connect” to your global audience, which was almost as good as being there with them.

    Except that it’s not.

    I was duped into believing that I could accomplish so many more tasks with all this technology and achieve incredible feats by simply sitting in front of a computer screen.

    I was also following several successful bloggers and online marketers and learning everything I could from them. But this only amplified the delusion that I could accomplish all these things at once because they had done it.

    Only all those marketers seemed very focused on just one thing and they were doing it really well. The problem for me was that I had many irons in many different fires and none of them were getting very hot.

    I call this The Flailing Effect.

    But thank God (or Buddha as it were) that somewhere in the midst of all this chaos I began practicing meditation. You could say I finally caught my breath. I quickly began to slow down and see a different perspective.

    It didn’t happen overnight. There were no tectonic shifts in my crazy lifestyle. In fact, I had to get up even earlier to now fit my meditation into my already insane schedule.

    But it was the best thing I ever could have done.

    Slowly, through the practice of quieting my mind, I began to find clarity.

    I clearly saw my attachment to this desperate need to accomplish something important in this life and be recognized by the world for it; and how these external accomplishments would somehow validate me as a person, as though who I was already wasn’t enough.

    It didn’t take long before I recognized the insanity in my ways.

    It became clear that I really needed to define what I wanted my life to stand for. Then I needed to eliminate everything else that didn’t serve that end.

    But the most important discovery was learning to finally let go of all expectations that any of these aspirations needed to come true. Or if they were meant to be, I needed to stop worrying about when they were going to happen, which it turns out was a huge source of frustration.

    Attachment, worry, frustration—these things don’t exist in nature. Things unfold as they are supposed to in nature.

    Sometimes the rains come. Sometimes they don’t. Sometimes one storm can change the course of millions of lives in just a few minutes.

    A river runs its course based on the lay of the land. When it meets an obstacle, it doesn’t fight with it. It simply goes around it…eventually.

    How long it takes is of little consequence. After some six million years or so, it might carve something as magnificent as the Grand Canyon. Nobody’s watching the clock in nature.

    A tree is happy wherever it grows. It doesn’t secretly wish to sprout legs and run off to some other more happening part of the forest. (Robert Frost wrote a pretty great poem on this subject.)

    In Buddhism, they call this patient acceptance.

    Life happens in spite of your wishes. This is the nature of all things. When I began to accept this, my frustrations started to melt away.

    When you can see yourself as a part of that nature, not separate from it, and start behaving as nature does, you will become more peaceful.

    I’ve learned to embrace the work now.

    The day to day. Nothing else matters, except my family. When I’m with my kids or my wife now, I try to really be present, to enjoy the now in each moment.

    When I finish a post or a song after many hours of editing and polishing it to a fine shine, I can stand back and smile. Another child is born. Then I put it out into the world.

    I do wish for it a happy, prosperous life as any father would. I just don’t worry so much any more about how it all turns out.

    It all turns out fine.

    Photo by Nguyen ST

  • Why We Lie to Ourselves and How It Creates Tension

    Why We Lie to Ourselves and How It Creates Tension

    “That I feed the hungry, forgive an insult, and love my enemy…. these are great virtues.
    But what if I should discover that the poorest of the beggars and the most impudent of offenders are all within me, and that I stand in need of the alms of my own kindness; that I myself am the enemy who must be loved? What then?” ~Carl Jung

    Mornings are delicious in the desert. In a summer climate that pushes above 100 degrees day after day, you learn to appreciate lingering cool gifts of pre-dawn hours.

    I’m typically awake by 5am these days. It’s the best time to open the windows and door to the patio to let new air in.

    On occasion, a sporty cactus wren has seen the open door as an invitation to come inside and have a look around. I delight in their curiosity and spunk, hopping from the doorway to the lamp on my desk, pausing to assimilate data before zooming out again.

    One day, a bee flew in and did not have nearly as much fun as the wrens.

    The bee went straight to the screened window, just a few feet from the open door, and stubbornly tried to will himself through. Up and down the screen, buzzing against it, the same spot many, many times with no success.

    On the other side of the screen, a leafy shade beckoned, but he could not get through. I watched and wondered why the bee continued to try the same thing repeatedly with no success. Not even a hint of success.

    Can you dig the metaphor? In what area of life could you be stuck in a similar scenario?

    We say we want happiness, peace of mind, harmonious relationships, someone to trust us, a more fulfilling job, healthier body, less stress, substantial joy. We say we want that, but we are so often the bee in the window, flying into the screen between us and the place we want to be.

    A fresh perspective may reveal a nearby open door.

    Years ago, I was the target of an unpleasant display of road rage. It was a simple scenario: I was going seventy miles per hour in the far left lane with another car parallel in the middle right lane. A hulky pick-up came hurrying up behind me and wanted to pass.

    He rode my bumper and flicked his lights to make sure I knew. To effectively get out of his way, I would have had to speed up past my desire and overtake the car to my right. It was a no-win situation for me, so I let it go and assumed he’d find another way around.

    Eventually, he succeeded: furiously zigzagged backward then forward, crossed three lanes, and zoomed into the path ahead of me. It was an impressive, totally reckless feat. As he moved in front of me, he stuck his muscular, tanned arm out and gave me the bird with a stiff, angry fist and explosive finger.

    Apparently, I upset the guy. Not only was seventy miles per hour too slow, it was personal; it was something I was doing to him.

    Maybe he thought the other car and I were in on it together, conspiring to block his lane. Maybe he was in a crisis—though, why bother summoning energy to get angry at me when you’re focused on solving an urgent dilemma?

    Why do we get so angry in traffic? Or in check out lines? Or in so many similar scenes played out with people we don’t even know?

    Why isn’t seventy miles per hour (essentially a mile a minute) fast enough?

    The challenge for me in that moment was to find the right question. Mostly, I felt bad for the guy, dosing himself with such an ugly gesture. His roar that did nothing to improve the spin of the planet or make his day roll smoothly.

    From his perspective, I jammed his joy. From my vantage, he could have swiped mine. I chose to keep mine and wish for him to find his.

    If we stop flying into the screen and look for a way around, much of the tension dissolves. Flipping me off with muscular anger may have seemed like a path to satisfaction for the guy on the road, but my guess is it took a painful bite out of his soul.

    Watching an old episode of “House” adds another layer. Dr. Chase was preparing to speak to the hospital review board regarding a case of negligence. While the gist of the plot focused on ramifications from his mistake, the bigger story was about lying and truth telling.

    I wish I could go back and count the number of times one character said to another: “You’re lying.” Every time, it turned out to be an accurate call. Everyone lied repeatedly, about big stuff as well as little stuff, and they constantly called each other on it until deeper truths were revealed.

    We seem to lie because we fear consequences. If I tell the truth now, I’ll get fired, sued, rejected—consequences imposed by an outside force. It’s a convenient explanation for why we side-step honesty, even when we know being upfront is the most direct path to repair and clarity.

    I believe we lie, not because we fear what “they” will do to us, but to avoid internal consequences; self-awareness unavoidably brings on a lot of responsibility.

    In this particular episode of “House,” Dr. Chase lied and said he wasn’t tuned in to the patient because he had a hangover; in reality, he was grief-stricken by news from home.

    Claiming he was negligent due to a hangover demands harsher consequences than the more human (and accurate) version of the story. So what advantage did the lie provide? When we deny the real cause, we relieve ourselves from having to do anything in response.

    More often than not, our lies serve to keep us in the dark, internally fragmented from areas of self unattractive to our conscious mind. Even more stubbornly, and more damaging, we lie to avoid the deeper reality of our greatness.

    This is the part to watch out for. We don’t just seek to avoid negative consequences; we also lie to avoid the responsibility of our own loving nature, the full potential of creativity or expansiveness of an authentic self.

    The guy on the road lies to himself when he says: we’re not all in this together; it’s me against them and they suck. That’s an internal lie designed to protect the self from having to accept the call to do good. Let off the hook in that regard, he’s free to throw his tantrum while a powerless power surges through.

    Each of us has the potential to enhance this world and our experience of it, in any given context. Tapping that potential demands more discipline than we may be willing to cultivate.

    It’s not easier to be mired in volatile emotions. It’s not easier to get from point A to point B in a sea of rage. It’s not easier to get to the nectar through the screen of our tired habits. It’s not easier; it’s just familiar.

    Happiness is the exotic commodity in our world. True peace of mind, resonant joy, sparkling sense of self, and purpose—all exotic to our distracted sensibility. The many miles between us and this exotic honey are cobbled by dishonesty, fragmentation, and fear of responsibility.

    But discipline isn’t “hard” and it’s not a leash restraining passion. Mindfulness is harmony. When all of our parts are working together, life hums around us.

    The bee catches a breeze and is blown off course, through the open door.

    The driver turns up the volume on a song, a good memory, a heartbeat and overlooks momentary annoyances. Then, arriving at his destination brings more of himself to the party. The doctor admits his grief—or his need for love—and the world is healed.

  • AJ’s Art Journal: No One Is Truly Mean

    AJ’s Art Journal: No One Is Truly Mean

    No One Is Truly Mean

    Source: AJ’s Art Journal

  • It’s Not Over: Failure Is Success in the Making

    It’s Not Over: Failure Is Success in the Making

    “A man’s errors are his portals of discovery.” ~James Joyce

    Everyone has a story of failure and disadvantage—those things we wish were done differently, better, or not at all. Take these stories for instance:

    A speaker intending to be unifying and encouraging onstage leaves the audience disappointed and bored instead.

    A lone manuscript is rejected by publishing houses over twenty-seven times, dismissed as too fanciful, fake, and “never gonna sell.”

    A poor eleven-year-old boy, deprived of toys his entire childhood, trudges through sleet and snow on his newspaper route in order to help support his family.

    An author struggles to write a novel, while a divorced, jobless, and homeless single parent facing a deep depression.

    Maybe your story sounds a lot like one of these? Is your situation cause to give up or is it motivation to keep pressing forward?

    I, myself, press forward past my bouts of feeling like a failure. Like when I ran for student body treasurer in the seventh grade and lost to my opponent. Or when I got fired from my first job after college. And especially when I had to dissolve my two-year old, bankrupt business at the turn of the 2008 recession.

    No fun.

    Fast forward: At the end of junior high, I graduated valedictorian. Weeks after I lost my job, I found work with a company that was a much better fit for my skill set and personality. And after shutting down my business, I went back to school, earned my Master’s in Business Administration, and graduated with honors.

    Not having perspective vast enough to see how failure could actually help me, I thought I had met my end during those painful days. Each event felt tragic. But I consistently came to find there was something else to be enjoyed after one door closed.

    Looking back, I see it was all good, everything that happened.

    What if we had that hindsight now—amidst the difficult times? Wouldn’t our experience be much more bearable (if not enjoyable)?

    The opportunities that arose after the so-called failures made what I wanted before pale in comparison to what I eventually got. I just had to be patient to see it unfold.

    You and Failure

    Failure is defined by Merriam-Webster dictionary as “the action or state of not functioning.” In other words, failure’s something that stops you; it gets you nowhere. Do you stop moving, stop breathing, or stop living when things don’t go as planned?

    This body only stops when its heart stops beating. So every day it keeps ticking is another chance at progress.

    Don’t you always take another step, even if it was just to pick yourself up out of bed today? Even when you think you failed, you haven’t because you’re still taking in air.

    Failure is a misnomer. It is an attempt to describe an event that leaves us with nothing—no opportunities, no chances, no understanding. When is that ever the case?

    Failure is only failure if you say it is. It only exists if you’re not willing to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and walk on. Besides, success depends on those struggles, those attempts, those defeats. Success requires that climb up.

    You and Success

    Success is a journey; it consists of every trial and triumph combined. And the best kind of journey…

    • Makes you stronger
    • Teaches you more about yourself
    • Gives you insight and answers
    • Is an opportunity to evaluate and do different
    • Is better than the regret of not doing
    • Puts your goals within reach

    Everything that happens contributes to a new awakening, a new way of life, a new way of being. We just have to see it as such.

    When we don’t stop at failure, we’re bound for success. So really, failure is success in the making…

    Which brings me back to the four stories I mentioned earlier. They didn’t end there. Their journeys continued:

    The speaker was Abraham Lincoln delivering the (now legendary) Gettysburg Address.

    The manuscript was eventually published. It was one of many books written by Theodor Geisel, also known as Dr. Seuss.

    The boy, Walt, went on to create the childhood he never had and opened Disneyland, a take on his last name.

    The author finally finished the novel. Using the pen name, J.K. Rowling, she wrote of a boy wizard named Harry Potter.

    Batteries fail, people don’t. We’re always full of potential to do different, do more, and do better. Failure is what you thought you couldn’t be; what you thought you couldn’t do; what you thought you couldn’t have. Change that thought.

    Start looking at life in terms of what you can and will do from where you are, with what you’ve got right now. Start looking toward success no matter what…and make lemonade!

    Success is our lesson learned. Success is our silver lining. Success is our second chance.

    What failures have you overcome only to find yourself living your own success story? What keeps you pressing forward?

  • Free Yourself from Regret and Transform Your Life

    Free Yourself from Regret and Transform Your Life

    Im Free

    “The practice of forgiveness is our most important contribution to the healing of the world.” ~Marianne Williamson

    I always had a hard time accepting all of me. As early as I can remember others defined me by saying “You are so weird.” Not in a malicious way but more in a “you don’t fit into our familiar box” sort of way.

    I spent most of my teens and twenties attempting to conform to others or numbing myself to a point of not caring what they thought. If someone would have told me that forgiveness and compassion would lead me to inner peace and wholeness, I would have asked them what they were smoking.

    So how is it that I came to learn that freedom lies within the forgiving and compassionate heart?

    I can assure you that it wasn’t because I have some super powers or a secret knowledge that you don’t. My discovery came through a real and messy life, no different from any other.

    Childhood

    My dad drank a lot. He was the obvious thorn in the family—the one that everyone else used as a distraction to keep from looking at themselves, the one that needed love the most but we were too afraid to give it.

    I was six or seven years old when my dad was pacing back and forth across the street from my grandparents’ house, yelling, “I just want to see my kids.” I thought to myself, “Why can’t he just come over and give me a hug? My daddy just needs a hug.”

    Someone in the house was assuring my frightened grandmother that it was against the law for him to come any closer to the house because of the restraining order, which didn’t make much sense to me, so I hugged my doll and disappeared into the background.

    As my father’s drinking and raging progressed, I too began to fear him. Afraid of my father, afraid of how people treated him, afraid life could actually be the way that he seemed to experience it—it was all so terrifying.

    It wasn’t easy watching my dad struggle his whole life, blaming his family, his job, my mom, and eventually me for his pain.

    Occasionally he would have a reprieve. Like the time he sent me a dozen roses for no reason. When I asked him why he sent them, he said, “My daughter is going to get a lot of roses in her lifetime and I wanted to be the first to give them to you.”

    He could be so charismatic, loving, and kind. I loved him with all of my heart.

    Growing Up

    In my twenties I found myself caught between a deep love and a desperate fear of my reflection. I fought a good fight not to become my dad. But as the saying goes, “what you resist persists,” and voila: I woke up one day and realized that I wasn’t like my dad. I had become him.

    Now in my twenties I was the one blaming others for my unhappiness; if only my childhood wasn’t so screwed up, if only my father was a better role model and had been there for me, and so on.

    Using relationships, alcohol, food, and whatever else I could to drown out daddy’s little mirror, I found myself plagued with the reality of not being able to live successfully anymore than he did.

    Healing begins when we can stand still and face ourselves in the mirror of another.

    The one thing that I had never witnessed my father do was take responsibility for his actions, which were the culmination of his life experiences. Knowing that I was just like him, I knew I needed to make a different choice, but how?

    Intuitively, I knew that I had to ask for help in learning how to become responsible—learning how to respond to life in a new way.

    I began reaching out for guidance through counseling, books, and learning from people around me who seemed genuinely happy. I soon discovered the power in connection.

    Connecting with people that were living life as creators, rather than victims, showed me a whole new way to live.

    I began to change inside. Compassion and self-forgiveness swelled. The principle “as within, so without” proved true as my newfound experience poured out and into my world.

    Forgiveness

    My thirties were a time of forgiveness during which my father and I were estranged because of his active drinking. At that time I didn’t know how to grow while simultaneously keeping my father in my life.

    Unfortunately, by the time my relationship with my father was healed, he had been dead for about five years.

    During those years I had made several attempts to make amends with him, once by spreading his ashes on Father’s Day at a place he used to take me and my brother as children.

    I’d written and read aloud two letters I wrote for him at different points of time.

    Interestingly, the action that created the ultimate healing came to me in meditation one morning.

    Sitting in silence I became aware of unkind and dismissive behavior I had displayed toward my father’s fourth ex-wife, Ann. Her only crime was that she loved him and was a kind stepmom. I blamed her for my father’s alcoholism, which made no rational sense.

    When I called Ann she was as gracious to me as she had always been.

    “It is so good to hear from you,” she said.

    I responded, “I’m calling because I have become aware that I somehow held you responsible for my father’s alcoholism, and because of that I was unkind and dismissive toward you. I wanted you to know that I am sorry for the way that I behaved and am extremely grateful that you were able to love and accept my father all those years, especially when I was unable to love him myself.”

    Her warmth traveled through the phone lines as she said, “You’re welcome; I understand. Your father so loved you.”

    Immediately after our phone conversation I felt something physically leave my body. I will never forget it. Beyond my understanding my relationship with my father had been healed.

    The Lesson I Wish I Had Learned Before It was Too Late

    After my father died I tried to convince myself that I had no regrets about never healing our relationship. The truth is that years earlier I intuitively knew that it was time to call my father and make things right, but I made the choice not to do it for one reason: fear.

    It is the one thing in my life that I would do differently if I could.

    Although I believe in a higher plan, with things always happening as they should, my actions play a vital role in the equation. Being responsible for my life has taught me to acknowledge my regret and the choice that I made which created it.

    Lessons I Learned from a Forgiving and an Unforgiving Heart

    • It is impossible to fully accept ourselves until we are at peace with our greatest fears.
    • Our greatest fears are easily detected by looking at those we are yet unable to love.
    • When we are willing to make things right in our life, regardless of appearances, seeking inner guidance will teach us how to heal.
    • If we still have breath, we can grow.

    Today when I find myself restless I ask, “Am I being stingy with my forgiveness?” And if the answer is yes, then I ask, “What can I do now to make things right with myself or between me and another?” knowing that they are one in the same.

    Forgiveness is a warrior’s journey where we grow into compassionate human beings. Regret surfaces when we know within what we need to do but we don’t do it. Forgiving is our opportunity to limit regrets.

    In our willingness to practice forgiveness we move from seeking acceptance to resting in our wholeness.

    Photo by Sara Jo

  • Happy Art: The Happier Among Us

    Happy Art: The Happier Among Us

    The Happier Among Us

    Source: Happy Art

  • Inspiring Video About What We Can Do: Are You a Hummingbird?

    Inspiring Video About What We Can Do: Are You a Hummingbird?

    I feel happy just looking at this woman, with her bright yellow attire and joyful face, but it’s her message that compelled me to share this. Watch it and ask yourself: Are you a hummingbird?