Tiny Buddha

Tag: wisdom

  • How Anger Leads to Anxiety and What to Do About It

    How Anger Leads to Anxiety and What to Do About It

    Calm

    “Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.” ~Buddha

    I have a confession: I’m mildly obsessed with anger.

    Not the negative feelings, the volatile outbursts, or the fly-off-the-handle reactions, but rather how humans express anger.

    I’ve largely made my living by dealing with various states of anger. More on that in a bit…

    Years ago I was shopping at a bookstore with my friend Alex. We were first time parents with toddlers at home.

    The idea was to find resources on how to raise emotionally healthy children and how to avoid the parenting mishaps we witnessed too often at work.

    As school social workers, we provided family counseling to young children and wayward teens in the inner city.

    As Alex obsessively scoured the aisles for the latest research-based writings on emotional intelligence, my eyes gravitated toward an entirely different topic.

    The black, matte-textured book with the blood red title practically screamed at me: Hatred: The Psychological Descent into Violence.

    I devoured it that night.

    It’s not that I didn’t want my kid to learn to soothe himself when upset, to resist peer pressure, or to misread social cues. But in that moment I felt a stronger pull.

    Part of the fascination stems from my ancestry; I’m half-Italian and half-Irish. A DNA hotbed, if you will.

    Meals were eventful. When I would lose my cool at the dinner table, my dad would wildly gesticulate in my mom’s direction. She, in turn, would shrug and reply “It’s The Fighting Irish in her, I suppose.”

    Additionally, I’m a psychotherapist who specializes in anxiety issues—generalized, panic, and social anxiety disorders.

    Do you want to know the quickest way to get a handle on your anxiety? Get ahold of your anger.

    I realize this may sound counter-intuitive. After all, we don’t normally associate anxious people with bad tempers and loud voices.

    The anger management connection is not exactly linear.

    It takes courage to express anger—to stand up for yourself and your values, which sometimes includes taking an unpopular stance.

    Bravery is valiant, strong, and admirable, while anxiety is cowardly, weak, and anything but enviable.

    Because many anxious people have a problem asserting themselves, feelings of helplessness, avoidance, and frustration take residence.

    Compounding the issue is the fear that if you express anger, you might lose control.

    And since many anxious individuals are people-pleasers and caretakers, these feelings are especially unwanted.

    But feelings go somewhere.

    And typically, when you take on too much responsibility, you inevitably feel exhausted, taken advantage of, and angry.

    If you don’t have a firm grasp on your anger responses, you’re going to hold it in until it explodes, or you’re going to yell, scream, stomp your feet, and possibly say and do things you regret.

    Then comes the guilt. And next, the overwhelming urge to fix the situation. And before you know it, the cycle repeats itself again.

    All the while, you’re wasting precious emotional energy that could be better used on enjoyable tasks.

    The good news is there’s strategies you can do today to help you feel more calm.

    I included five common ways I help us go from anxiety to zen below:

    1. List the places in your body where you feel anger.

    Is it in your chest? What happens to your heart rate? How does your stomach feel?

    It’s important to recognize the physical cues of anger in order to alert youself that it’s time to calm down.

    2. Visualize different behavioral responses. How do you react when you feel angry?

    Do you scream, tantrum, throw things, bottle it inside, or pretend that everything is fine?

    Write down three different reactions you will do instead, such as:

    Calmly assert your needs, deep breathing, count to ten, walk away rather than stick around for a fight, and close your eyes to reduce visual stimulation, etc.

    3. Make friends with the word “no.”

    Many nice people have a hard time with this one. The association with conflict makes us feel mean, insensitive, or too direct.

    Know that “no” means you respect yourself, your time, and your values. Practice saying it in the mirror until it sounds deliberate and natural.

    4. Ask yourself if you value expressing anger over getting along with others.

    It’s a fact that some people enjoy the adrenaline rush of letting go and projecting their uncomfortable feelings onto others.

    Recognize that the short-term feelings of power are no match for the sleeplessness, headaches, and despair, which endure long after the “anger high” wears off.

    5. Think about the last time you got angry. How did you go from anger to a calmer place?

    You’re probably really good at getting angry already, so let’s focus on the other side. Be specific. What behaviors did you call upon to get to zen?

    This will reinforce your coping strategies, and it will serve as a reminder to focus on solutions rather than stewing in anger.

    The more you practice reacting in positive ways, waiting until the anger subsides, and considering your options, the more skilled you will become at managing anger.

    It’s possible that your body is wired to be more anxiety-sensitive, and you’ll have to work harder than others to calm yourself. And that’s okay.

    These are temporary solutions, and you’ll still need to control the anxiety itself. But they’ll get you started in learning to respond with more awareness, and less emotion.

    You’re the expert on your life. And you get to choose how much anger to allow in your heart, mind, and body every day.

    With intentional focus on doing things differently, you can feel more calm, confident, and in control.

    Photo by skyseeker

  • Dharma Comics: If This Is the End

    Dharma Comics: If This Is the End

    DharmaComics_LeahPearlman_IfThisIsTheEnd

    Source

  • Why It’s Not Selfish to Ask Someone You Love for Help

    Why It’s Not Selfish to Ask Someone You Love for Help

    Two People

    “Learn to appreciate what you have before time makes you appreciate what you had.” ~Unknown

    I’m a woman in midlife who thought she was set after a long successful career and the promise of financial security. I supported my own way through most of my life, fending for myself and then my two children, even during a 15-year marriage that ended badly and another that never really began.

    For a number of reasons my plans for an early and secure retirement ended a few years ago. The long story is for another time; the short story is health, burnout, spiritual growth, reorganization…life.

    A few months later, my oldest daughter announced she was engaged. I wanted to do for her what I always had been able to—give her what she wants—but I was no longer able to. 

    Now the wedding is only weeks away and the final plans and payments are being secured. More than we expected of course, despite her diligent attention to adhering to a modest budget.

    “You don’t have to, but I was just wondering…if you can…can you send more money? If you can’t, it’s okay. We will spend our own money,” she requested by e-mail reluctantly.

    On the one hand, I wanted to just say, “Yes, of course,” no questions asked; on the other, I thought it was a perfect opportunity to draw boundaries and to not do more than I was able.

    But on the hand that holds my heart, she was my little girl about to get married, and I didn’t know how to say no. 

    But how could I say yes, with mounting medical bills, another year of tuition for my other daughter, and having found myself unemployed and unable to work for more than two years? 

    I had never done this before, but in a quizzical moment that felt something like an inspiration, I decided to call my parents.

    My parents struggled financially for most of their life, but in their senior years they found themselves able to live fairly comfortably on their fixed incomes, with some money in the bank.

    I had never asked them for help before, and at 54 years old—having taken care of my own needs without help my whole life—it felt like some sort of failure on my part to make this choice.

    But for the sake of my daughter, I had to.

    My Dad picked up the phone, as I had hoped he would, and my Mom was out, as I hoped she would be. Daddy’s little girl and all. A much easier appeal.

    At first I felt so bad having to ask my Dad for money. I didn’t ask for much, but for a man who never was able to give much, not much is a lot.  

    I cried, and he tried to soothe me, hardly able to stand his little girl crying. Only now his “little girl” is 54 and he’s 80.

    He’s starting to break down. Little things, I can tell. But still, we are father and daughter, you know?

    He didn’t hesitate. He said he wished he could have done more. He said, “You are my flesh and blood.”

    Then soon after, I stopped feeling bad. I think I actually started to believe I made him feel good. He got to be a hero today.  

    It’s still such a small gesture, but such a large one.

    After I got off the phone I saw it all differently. There was indeed some goodness that came from my shame of not working and not making my own money right now—a chance to let him shine, to help. In a small way but a big way at the same time.

    Suddenly, I felt glad that I’d asked, and that I hadn’t let my ego need to show up as strong and infallible outweigh my daughter’s need, my need, and my Dad’s (and Mom’s) willingness and ability to become a hero for our family.

    I’m glad he got to do it. I’m thinking he needed to, in a way. Something for him to leave of himself before he goes.

    This whole experience made me realize something else, which was even more profound. I’ve had my parents around for so long that I’ve been lulled into believing they always will be.

    I’m lucky and grateful to be this age and to still have my parents—both of them to call on, and even more so for them to be there for me.

    I have not given much thought to what it would be like to no longer have them, but this exchange gave me the opportunity to realize that I’m really going to miss them when they do pass on.

    It will be strange and empty and weird when there physical presence is no more. In their own way, they have always been there, no matter what.

    I think my Dad got to be a hero today. And my daughter gets to have the wedding she wants.  And in some indirect way, I got to give each of these to both of them.

    Give someone you love this chance if it comes up. Don’t view it as weak or vulnerable to allow someone to step into their light and glory, and to give of themselves in a way that makes them feel good.

    Photo by Thejas

  • Buddha Doodles: You Deserve Downtime

    Buddha_Doodles_Downtime_MollyHahn

    Source: Buddha Doodles

  • Wabi Sabi: Find Peace by Embracing Flaws and Releasing Judgment

    Wabi Sabi: Find Peace by Embracing Flaws and Releasing Judgment

    Meditating

    “Remember that sometimes not getting what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck.” ~Dalai Lama

    Several years ago, a colleague and I were invited to give a presentation on mindfulness at our State Mental Health Conference. I was a novice and flattered to be asked.

    Singing bowls, which are metal and look like a mortar and pestle, are useful tools in mindfulness practice. The bowl is placed on a cushion and, when struck, makes a beautiful sound like a bell.

    The tone and pitch are determined by the size of the bowl and thickness of the metal. They’re used for various purposes, but always signal the beginning and ending of a mindfulness meditation.

    At the time I owned a tiny brass bowl that made a beautiful high-pitched tone. It was a lovely bowl, but the sound only traveled to a small area.

    Needing the sound to travel to a larger audience, I took a shopping trip to our local New Age Emporium. It was a large store with every thing you could want: art, bamboo plants, books, Buddha statues, hemp clothing, incense—and singing bowls.

    I made my way to the meditation section and was quickly drawn to a Tibetan bowl with metalwork that looked old and well used. I picked it up and felt how it nestled in my hands like a warm cup of tea.

    To quote Goldilocks, the words “just right” came to my mind. I fell in love with it, and though the bowl was a little pricey, the comfort it gave me when I held it was priceless. The singing bowl was going home with me.

    Next I needed to find a cushion. I wanted it to be deep red, green, or maybe even royal blue, but where were the cushions? I was expecting a large stack to match the number of bowls, but alas, there was only one. 

    It was magenta: not my favorite color to say the least. Magenta! Absolutely not! I am not a magenta person, and it looks so garish next to my earthy singing bowl. But if that wasn’t enough, there was something even more disturbing than the color magenta.

    The embroidered circle on the top of the cushion was off center. It wasn’t a little off. It was a lot off.

    Are you kidding, I thought. How could anyone expect to sell this thing? No wonder it’s the last one. It’s the leftover; who would want it? I can’t imagine using a “misfit” cushion for my presentation.

    It would be humiliating—almost like I left my zipper down or had toilet paper hanging under my skirt.

    I felt a physical sense of resistance when I looked at it, as if my heart had hands that were pushing it away. My stomach began to twist, and I felt a golf ball forming at the base of my throat.

    After recovering from my horror, I laid the cushion down and decided to scavenge the store. I was banking on the chance that there was an abandoned cushion misplaced. Surely in a store this big, there was one more cushion.

    I investigated as though I were a detective looking for clues. Trust me, if I had been looking for a needle in a haystack, I would have found it—but I didn’t. There wasn’t another cushion.

    I sulked back to the scene of the crime, aka “the misfit cushion,” and glared at it. Once again, the resistance began to bubble up, but this time something miraculous happened.

    The whisperings of wakefulness called my name, and gently I returned to the here and now.

    Stop I thought. If you’re going to give a presentation on mindfulness, practice what you preach. You can’t be mindful if you have fallen into the trance of being judgmental. You are being mindless.

    Observe the resistance. What does it feel like viscerally? How does it feel in your hands? Close your eyes. Hmmm, it feels like a cushion. Set the bowl on it and strike it. Oh, it sounds beautiful—what a mellow tone. The cushion is perfectly functional.

    Look closely at it…

    The solid color is magenta. It’s shiny and soft. The embroidered circle is on the bottom left hand corner, and it’s about 3 inches in diameter. Hmmm. The sides have a band of embroidery circling it. Hmmm.

    Then the insight began to pour in. Who said the circle has to be in the middle? Why is the middle correct, and off center not? Perfection and imperfection imply right and wrong, but is that true? Who said symmetry is beautiful and asymmetry is not?

    As I questioned everything I had mindlessly assumed, I realized the cushion was perfect in its imperfection and utility.

    Understanding, along with my new eyes for finding beauty in unexpected places caused me to meet my teacher, in the form of a singing bowl cushion. I held it close to my heart and welcomed it home.

    My epiphany was an example of the Japanese term Wabi Sabi, which is a hidden treasure available to us all that offers peace, balance, and freedom. 

    Wabi means simplicity, quietude, harmony, peace, and poverty as in being stripped down to the basics.

    Sabi means things that come with age or time, and taking pleasure in that which is old or well used; “the bloom of time” as someone once said.

    Put those two words together and you have a feeling similar to faith—hard to explain, but a way of knowing that represents the peaceful acceptance of things as they are, including imperfection, impermanence, and incompleteness.

    Wabi Sabi doesn’t only help with changing how we see physical objects. We can practice Wabi Sabi in our relationships, in our professional lives, and in any situation where we may be causing ourselves stress with expectations and judgments.

    When navigating these life experiences, it’s important to remember:

    1. Flaws are the leveling field of humanity.

    We all have them, rich and poor alike. It is our blemishes that connect us with our humanness.

    2. Wabi Sabi doesn’t imply giving up striving for excellence, but it does ask us to accept what is true.

    It asks us to slow down and look at things deeply, discovering beauty that might ordinarily be passed over in unexpected places.

    3. Resisting judgment allows us to see the whole picture, not just the fragment that too often is allowed to run the show.

    In doing so, we make room for peace that comes with acceptance. Peace brings relief, wisdom and connection.

    4. By calling a truce with imperfection, impermanence, and incompleteness, a paradox happens, and we discover harmony and balance.

    My magenta, off centered cushion; my sensei, takes its place at the top of my gratitude list and continues to teach all who meet it.

    Photo by Wabi Sabi

  • 5 Tips to Stop Making Comparisons and Feeling Bad About Yourself

    5 Tips to Stop Making Comparisons and Feeling Bad About Yourself

    “The reason we struggle with insecurity is because we compare our behind-the-scenes with everyone else’s highlight reel.” ~Steve Furtick

    I remember one day when I was around six years old, my older brother came home from school with one of those star-shaped highlighters that had a different color on each point. I laid my eyes on it and in that moment I wanted nothing more than I wanted that highlighter.

    It didn’t matter that as a six year old, I had less use for it than paper shoes in rainy weather; I just simply had to have it.

    Being the loudmouth child that I was, with a scream my mum only describes as “hell-breaking loose,” I fought (cried) tooth and nail for that highlighter until my father made my brother give it to me.

    I scribbled an obscure masterpiece of color for a solid five minutes—until my pupils dilated at the new pencil case my brother had pulled out of his school-bag. It’s safe to say my brother sure didn’t like my company for a while. Anything he had, I wanted.

    This wasn’t just an innocent childish trait. It seemed to follow me as I grew a little older too. I found myself wanting many things other people had.

    It didn’t have to be tangible. In fact, most of the time it was a character trait, a skill, or even academic ability. I always wanted something somebody else had.

    The problem was that it was no longer a case of just wanting the highlighter; I was putting myself down and getting frustrated at why I wasn’t given one, or why I wasn’t capable enough to get my own.

    The self-doubt questions start seeping in: Am I good enough? Why can’t I do this or have that? Am I ever going to achieve the things others seem to so easily? Why is it so hard for me to be happy and easy for everybody else?

    The thing with comparing ourselves to others is that it’s something every one of us does, or at least has done in the past.

    Remember coming home with a 95% on an exam? One of the first things our parents would ask is (second to “what happened to the other 5%?”): “How did everybody else in your class do on the test?”

    It seemed like it didn’t matter that we had gotten an A+, not if everybody else did too.

    It is always a comparison. In fact, education boards compare schools, teachers compare students, and employers compare interviewees. It’s just how the world works. It’s inevitable that we will learn to compare.

    At an individual level, we might attend parties or ten-year high school reunions and analyze in fine detail what successes everybody has achieved in their lives, and our drive home consists of brooding, trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong for us.

    If that wasn’t bad enough, enter: Facebook. Correction, social media as a whole has taken the lead in creating an online universal medium for comparisons all day every day!

    Now we know instantly when our friends are lying on a sandy white beach while we’re slaving away at a nine to five, which we have probably loathed for eight years.

    We see our friends getting married, and we can’t help but think about why we haven’t settled down yet. Our Facebook News Feed is filled with photos of couples with their first new-born, and we ask ourselves if we’ve missed our chance at having a family.

    We need to remember that on the outside, things may seem a certain way, but it’s almost always inaccurate. And that leaves our comparisons with very little basis.

    We’ve heard the phrase “Everyone’s fighting their own battle.” I had a friend once tell me that, on the outside, I looked like I lived a princess lifestyle. Princess!

    Apparently, I always had a smile on my face. I joked around, and seemed as though I hadn’t a single worry in the world. After she got to know more about me, she said she would never have guessed I had the problems I was actually dealing with at the time.

    Personally, I don’t recall having a particular incident happen to me that prompted a change. Perhaps it was just my gradual disinterest in other people’s lives and a heightened interest to focus on my own.

    But I realized there was zero benefit from comparing myself to others. Emotionally, it would only bring me down, and mentally, it immobilized me. No progression occurs at a standstill like that.

    Whether it’s something innate that we develop as kids, or something we’ve learned from the nature of our society today, we compare. And although logically we know comparisons are no good for us, we still can’t help doing it.

    So how do we actually stop?

    1. Appreciate what you do have.

    I realized it had never crossed my mind that perhaps someone out there could be looking at me, wishing for something that I had. When you’re lost in a world of comparisons, your focus is always outward, analyzing others. You forget that you already have a million and one things to be forever grateful for.

    2. It’s not a fair game.

    As our man Einstein says, “Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”

    We’re all different, we see things differently, we’ve all had different experiences and come from different backgrounds. So comparing ourselves to others is synonymous to comparing a fish to a monkey.

    3. Things aren’t always what they seem.

    For some odd reason, we tend to make up our own judgments on people just on the way they look on the outside. You may look at two people working at the same firm, judge them both, and wish to have their position, but what you don’t know is while one may have got the job through his father’s connections, the other had worked twenty years at the bottom of the gutter to get where he is now.

    4. If you must compare, compare to yourself.

    Some people use comparisons and convert it into motivation. And for those who can do that, go for it. It’s definitely a positive spin; perhaps seeing someone’s success drives you to do the same.

    I often use this one, but I also believe that the best person to compare yourself to is you. Compare the present you to the past you. It’s a much fairer scale and a sure way to progression and peace of mind.

    5. Accept what you can’t change and change what you can’t accept.

    Leading on from the last tip, change the things you want to and when you have, compare back to yourself and see how much you changed for the better. And with the things you can’t change, accept that it was how you are supposed to be—own it, live it, love it.

    If you want to take one thing from this post, take my favorite: The only person you should be comparing yourself to is the person you were yesterday.

  • 3 Lessons to Help You Find Peace When Fighting a Hard Battle

    3 Lessons to Help You Find Peace When Fighting a Hard Battle

    “He who has health has hope, and he who has hope has everything.” ~Proverb

    August 3, 2001. I still remember it like it was yesterday. It was around six o’clock in the evening when she sat us down. Luther Vandross was singing in the background on the radio: “And it’s so amazing and amazing, I can stay forever and forever. Here in love and no, leave you never.”

    Quite ironic when you think about the news I would soon receive.

    I had just finished summer school and my sister had just returned from an internship on the East Coast. My mother had such a pensive, yet positive look on her face when she asked us to come into the living room.

    “This is hard for me to say, so I am just going to say it: I have cancer.”  

    Immediately, my sister and I  broke into tears because, up until that point, every single relative or friend who had battled cancer lost. And in my shocked state, I thought it was perhaps time to start saying goodbye because I was already feeling quite defeated.

    The person who had always been the anchor in our family would soon become lighter due to weekly radiation and chemotherapy appointments. Although she physically grew weaker, her actions taught me a few lessons I will never forget.

    Today, I would like to share three of them with you:

    Learn to Let Go

    Impermanence. Everything fades away and nothing lasts forever.

    My mom used to have long, beautiful black hair with a sheen that many envied.

    Unfortunately, the type of chemotherapy she was being treated with slowly killed her hair cells. As for many women, this was very hard for her to accept because it was a part of her identity, her femininity, and it’s generally what society deems to be beautiful.

    But as the appointments stacked up and the strands dwindled away, she had to face a reality that was quite sobering: most of her hair was gone, and she needed to find the courage to ask my father to completely shave her head.

    Then the day finally came.

    As the remaining hair fell to the ground, Black Rapunzel was replaced by a cancer patient who learned to be grateful for what was instead of trying to hold on to something that no longer existed.

    As Steve Maraboli wrote, “The truth is, unless you let go, unless you forgive yourself, unless you forgive the situation, unless you realize that the situation is over, you cannot move forward.”

    My mother learned to let go and finally made the decision to move forward.

    Inspire Yourself with Your Journey

    “That it will never come again is what makes life so sweet” is something my mother would say. “So write it all down—the victories, the setbacks, the magical moments, the not so loving moments, and the moments of complete loneliness. Write it all down to serve as a reminder.”

    Each day we awaken, we are given a pen with 86,400 seconds of ink to write with.

    During her first week of treatments, my mother picked up a journal to write about her fight with the Big C and how she planned to defeat it, even though she was sometimes the one knocked down for a while. Nevertheless, she persisted.

    Sure, she wrote about her hair loss, the pain at night, and the sadness she sometimes felt. But she also wrote about the joys of raising her children, the extra energy she could sometimes muster up to walk a bit further, and the faith and hope that was keeping her grounded.

    She saw her journal as a way to inspire herself when she wanted to look back and see how far she had come on her journey thus far.

    Love Well and Far

    Cancer woke us up to the fact that nothing lasts forever, and words that go unsaid may never be spoken.

    After my mother’s diagnosis, my close family got even closer as she expressed her desire for us to show more love to each other, and to be grateful not only for the fun, easy times, but also for the tougher times.

    That’s what it means to love well and far: loving unconditionally even when it’s hard. Sharing your love even when it’s difficult. Being there for the people you love when they need you the most.

    So I ask you these three important questions: Is there anything in your life that you feel you need to let go of? Are you recording the magic moments from your life? Are you reaching far with your love?

    I wanted to share these three lessons not only to pay tribute to my mother, who has been in remission for the past twelve years, but also to serve as a beacon of hope for those who may be dealing with something similar right now. It’s hard and it hurts, but now is the time to be stronger and more loving than ever.

    Now is the time to love well and far.

    Photo here

  • Facing Life’s Big Challenges and Coming out on Top

    Facing Life’s Big Challenges and Coming out on Top

    On Top of Mountain

    “Life always waits for some crisis to occur before revealing itself at its most brilliant.” ~Paul Coelho

    I will never forget that day.

    It is still as clear in my mind as if it were yesterday.

    My son was just a little over three. He was going to a mainstream kindergarten and, well, his teacher had very gently suggested we seek a professional’s help.

    You see, he didn’t understand what the teachers were saying to him. He was restless and fidgety. He also bounced form activity to activity.

    This was our first ever visit to a speech pathologist, and she suspected autism. The possibility that our child has a life-long disability seemed like a death sentence.

    So we did what any normal, self-respecting parent would do: we dismissed her concerns.

    We were outraged. How dare she say this? What right did she have? Our son is not autistic. He just has a language delay; he’s just tad over active.

    Then we did the next best thing: we put him in an early intervention center.

    Although we were sure that it wasn’t this thing that was wrong, we knew something was. And we had to do something. We had to be responsible parents. Now he was getting help with his sensory issues (something I understood much later), fine motor, play, and language skills.

    In retrospect, I wonder how I could have missed those early signs. I guess that was the greatest form of a denial—only a mother could find a justification for every symptom of what could be wrong.

    It’s quite ironic, actually. We had an appointment with the developmental pediatrician and been waiting for this day for over two months. And then we had to cancel

    My husband called in to let them know, and the receptionist asked, “Are you sure you can’t make it today? It will take a long time to reschedule.”

    My husband said, “Yes, my wife has just given birth to our second son.”

    And so amidst all the chaos of having a newborn, my first born got diagnosed and I felt as if my life was completely shattered.

    I felt cheated—for me, my son, and my family.

    He did not deserve this.

    We did not deserve this.

    How could it happen to us? What did we do wrong?

    There was time for grief and acceptance. (Don’t know how many days I cried for.) Then it was time to get to work.

    And so I did.

    I decided to leave my job in academia. I did not care about any of that any more. All I cared about was my son. I wanted to make everything right.

    And the only way I knew was to become an expert myself. This is something I excel it— researching, synthesizing, and becoming a self-proclaimed know-it-all on a topic of my choice.

    Only this time, the stakes were high. And the goal was to save my son’s present and his future.

    I bought 30+ books on Autism spectrum disorders and therapies, and memoirs of parents living with these special children. I got informal training in speech, occupational, and ABA therapies and hired my own therapists to do the work.

    And my son made progress by leaps and bounds. He went through two years worth of therapies in six months, shocking his therapists and consultants alike. How could he do this, they wondered. They had never seen any child do this before. Ever. They called him gifted.

    We were so grateful for his learning ability.

    This was the kid who “might never catch up,” communicated to us by a helpful early intervention staff member.

    Two years of tears and sweat, a big chunk of our joint savings, and lack of any social activities went into this story.

    He surpassed all their expectations. He outperformed all his fellow classmates in math and reading. He is a kid who is eccentric—the emotional age of kids half his age, loud, always happy, always fun. And he is going to a mainstream school.

    His diagnosis was formally changed to Asperger’s, which has a better prognosis in terms of social and emotional well-being.

    Because I ended up staying at home for over five years (my second child also started speaking late), I had time to re-evaluate my life.

    I decided to let go of all that I was expected to do—a job that didn’t feed my soul, a social circle that started to disappear, and flashy stuff that we simply couldn’t afford anymore.

    My son’s diagnosis turned our lives upside down. But it also taught us to appreciate both of our sons for who they are and to be grateful for each and every blessing in our lives.

    At the end, I came out on top because I adopted the following beliefs:

    Awful things might happen to you; take all the time you need to face the reality.

    You need to grieve; do it.

    Need to cry, not come out of your house, stay in bed all day? You can do that.

    What you can’t do is keep it all bottled up inside, pretending it never happened. That your life is the same as it was a day before.

    You need to face your emotions and deal with them. But don’t rush. Take your time. Healing takes time. It will happen when you come to terms with it.

    It is not your fault.

    I am sure you are thinking that it’s your fault—that whatever you’re going through, you caused it somehow.

    We all feel that way. We scrutinize our life. We go over every inch to try and see if we did anything wrong.

    It’s not your fault—and it’s also not going to do you any good thinking like that and torturing yourself in the process.

    If you need to hear it, ask somebody you trust. And then really listen. Say it with me: It is not your fault.

    Let go of what you don’t need anymore.

    You have faced a setback. Your life is different, so you have to do things differently.

    What is it that you don’t need in your life anymore? Is there a job that isn’t working for you? Any commitments you made? How many things do you say yes to that you could just pull back from?

    Bow out gracefully.

    Your husband loses his job. Your teenager has been in an accident. Your mom’s tumor is malignant. Your brother lost his house so his family has to move in temporarily.

    Whatever it is, it needs your attention, which means the unimportant must go. Now.

    Start believing and discover possibilities.

    Your life is different now but that doesn’t mean it has to be worse. It can be better. Don’t listen to the naysayers and anyone else who tells you otherwise.

    Don’t listen to the experts who tell you that your chances are not good. Listen to your gut. Do the work.

    You might feel like you are all alone in this, or that you don’t have all the resources. You might feel trapped or feel like you don’t have many choices. Become resourceful. Do the best you can.

    Amidst that chaos, can you discover any truths about your life and your dreams?

    Now that you have let go of stuff that doesn’t matter, stuff that didn’t work, what could you do to bring normalcy to your life? What can you do to stay sane?

    You don’t have to go through a major life change to appreciate what you have. All it takes is a wake up call. Mine was major; yours doesn’t have to be.

    It took a diagnosis for my oldest son and give years of rethinking my life to find my priorities.

    What will it take for you?

    Photo by Tristan

  • AJ’s Art Journal: Build Your Wings

    AJsArtJournal_BuildYourWings

    Source

  • Forgiving the Unforgivable and Ending Your Own Suffering

    Forgiving the Unforgivable and Ending Your Own Suffering

    Man Thinking

    “Resentment is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die.” ~Malachy McCourtro

    I was completely unprepared for the emotional hailstorm that bombarded me when, back in 2001, I learned that my wife had been having an affair with my best friend of twenty-plus years.

    My normal, predictable life (which I absolutely loved, by the way) had been virtually shattered overnight. Not only did it culminate in a very bitter war (see: divorce), it also marked the onset of a toxic poison that had begun to work its way into my veins: resentment.

    It began with crippling depression—depression so bad that I no longer had the appetite to eat or a desire to care for myself. I spent untold hours (and days) under the protective shield of a comforter in bed, drifting into a slumber of numbness. Sleeping meant that I didn’t have to feel.

    And with an empty house now all to myself, I made a decision to lock the front door and refuse to answer it for anyone.

    Having just had a proverbial knife twisted into my spine by the two people I loved and trusted the most, what good could come from anyone knocking on the door with a smile on their face? People hid vicious claws behind their backs, and I refused to be stuck with them again.

    Signs Of Life

    Then, suddenly but slowly, I began to crawl back to life. I spent less time in bed, began to eat on occasion, and even reached out to talk to family. Calling around to local churches, I learned about a divorce support group that met on Wednesdays, and forced myself to attend.

    The people at this group, mostly other men, served to reassure me that I wasn’t the only one facing the frightening task of putting a broken life back together.

    And even though I cried my way through the first few meetings, a footprint for recovery began to take shape. But the poison of resentment was an entirely different monster—one that would take me a full decade to exorcize.

    Sentenced To Suffer

    Despite acquiring a new set of coping skills, I began to suffer through obsessive thoughts about the affair between my ex-wife and ex-best friend. I tortured myself with the painful details of their intimacy, imagining it over and over again throughout the day.

    And when I slept at night, my mental participation was no longer even required—those obsessive thoughts became a box of terrifying toys that came out to play on their own.

    In my paralyzing condition, I came to believe that having an apology from the both of them was the only way to exhale. But neither of them had any intention of doing so. The affair had already been going on for so long before I discovered it that they could never rightly offer any explanation of value—and therefore, never did.

    So much for exhaling.

    After a whopping ten years of this sort of self-inflicted torture—long after my divorce had been finalized—I realized it was well overdue that I look inward for the answer. No one was going to offer the apology I wanted or felt entitled to.

    I could either choose to forgive regardless, or continue in the pattern of resentment and anger that swallowed my current quality of life.

    Making A Decision To Forgive

    I chose to forgive. To let go, and to recognize the past as a dead era I’d never be able to change.

    Forgiving is a hard thing to do when you feel like the recipient is undeserving—even more so when they have no clear intention of ever apologizing. You’d rather they feel the full weight of your hurt and pain, that they suffer as you suffered, and come to know the same meaning of anguish and sorrow that you have.

    But in refusing to forgive, we wrongly assume that we are dealing out due punishment to a deserving party—neglecting to see the poison we’ve sentenced ourselves to continue ingesting.

    The Weight Of A Grudge

    Refusing to forgive can sometimes become so paramount to our existence that we let it define our life. It reflects in our language, in the stories we tell people, and in our attitudes. And since the pain is familiar, we bask in it, subconsciously teaching ourselves to see the negative in everyone.

    We miss the opportunity to form relationships and build healthy bridges with people under the faulty logic that, since one person hurt us, they’re all out to hurt us.

    Research shows that psychological stress accumulated over a period of years begins to settle as physical pain in the body—pain we can literally feel taking a toll on our well-being. Mindful meditation has worked wonders in alleviating that burden for me since I chose to forgive.

    The final stage of forgiveness, at least for me, was to pray for the people who had wronged me—and I find myself doing so a lot, whenever old feelings start to surface. I pray for their health and happiness in a sort of radical act of kindness—a spiritual adoption, if you will.

    Forgiving is one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever given myself, since with it came freedom and the permission to move on and enjoy what life has to offer in the present moment. A shackle has been removed from my ankle, and I’m free to move about now.

    I was, after all, the only person who could ever remove it to begin with.

    Photo by Will Foster

  • How My Anger Led Me to Forgiveness and Peace

    How My Anger Led Me to Forgiveness and Peace

    “Genuine forgiveness does not deny anger but faces it head-on.” ~Alice Duer Miller

    As an adult survivor of childhood sexual abuse at the hands of a relative, I had become accustomed to keeping secrets. Silence, I was taught, was a good thing. It protected people that I loved.

    So for over a decade, I carried the dark and overbearing weight of my past in secrecy and in silence, believing I was the only one in the world who’d ever experienced such abuse—until I learned from a college workshop that one in four women and one in five men fall victim to sexual abuse by the time they are eighteen.

    Shocked and convicted, a surge of emotions overwhelmed me.

    Later, for the first time, I was able to share my secret with my mother. She was devastated and we cried, but the conversation ended on a peculiar note: “You can’t ever tell your dad,” she said, “because it will destroy him.”

    It felt as if I’d finally surfaced for air after drowning my entire life, and now I was being pushed back underwater, but sadly I accepted it. As aforementioned, silence was a good thing, wasn’t it? It protected people that I loved.

    The seven years that followed proved to be the most tumultuous of my life. I battled suicidal ideation, clinical depression, anxiety, panic attacks, plummeting self-esteem, immeasurable anger and resentment, and the take-home prize of the millennia: unforgiveness.

    I was a highly-trained victim at this point, putting on an Oscar-worthy performance.

    And then one day, I’d had enough. I did what I’d always wanted to do: I got angry!

    Now before you take a baseball bat to your ex’s four-by-four, I’m not talking about the type of anger that features fist fights and flying chairs on daytime talk shows. This type of anger is a process through which you can access the power and peace that can only come from forgiveness.

    There are four steps I have experienced in this process:

    1. Give yourself permission to get angry.

    I was accustomed, as I’ve emphasized, to the golden rule of “silence.” Skeletons were better left in the closet, I thought. Unfortunately, mixed with my already existent people-pleasing ways, this was a recipe for disaster.

    In my journey toward esteeming others above myself, as many of the world’s wisest sages have taught, I inadvertently evolved into a doormat. Talk about regressive Darwinism!

    I wanted to be a good person, and so when I felt anger, resentment, and unforgiveness, I beat myself up over it. I truly believed that I was a horrible person for being angry over what had happened to me. Further, I didn’t want to be the “villain” in others’ eyes or the black sheep in the family who just couldn’t let go of the past.

    But at long last, I finally gave myself permission to feel that anger to the fullest. I gave myself permission to own my anger, and in doing so, I validated myself. I acknowledged that I wasn’t an unfeeling robot or a mindless drone—I was a flesh-and-blood human being with a deep spiritual wound that deserved proper treatment.

    I allowed myself to acknowledge that I was in pain, that it didn’t feel good, and that I was angry about it. As such, a process could then—and only then—begin. I could now travel into the deepest and darkest parts of my soul and bring light to those forgotten caverns.

    2. Share your story.

    There was a time when I believed I would never share my story with a single soul. I could’ve never imagined those long years ago how untrue that would become.

    Every time I share my story, I feel more and more powerful. I’m no longer a victim—I’m a survivor! Sharing your story is not about incriminating the wrongdoer. It’s about validating yourself, owning your experience, and committing to living your best life.

    There may be someone reading this right now who has never shared the life story that’s so burning inside their heart. Whether it’s writing down the story in your personal journal or finally telling a trusted, long-time friend, take this bold step forward. You will feel freedom like never before.

    Your story is nothing to be ashamed about. Come forth from that dark corner into the light. The weight feels lighter with every word you speak, and the story will become easier to share with each telling.

    I believe that if more people realized how liberating it feels to finally share their story, more people would in turn experience the love, freedom, and peace that they so desire and so deserve.

    3. Seek support and wisdom.

    Dealing with anger while bearing the goal of forgiveness in mind requires a life support team. You need to surround yourself with loving people who care about your personal growth and want the best for you.

    And while these people will support your need to validate yourself and feel angry, they mustn’t be people who will talk you out of forgiveness. Instead, ensure that your life support team is stocked with people who understand the power and love that comes from forgiveness and why it’s vital to your permanent joy.

    These people should also be able to ensure that you don’t act out on your anger. Getting angry doesn’t mean treating people unkindly and it’s not a “Get Out of Jail Free” card for nasty behavior and cruel words.

    You’re not excused from characterizing love just because you’re wounded. Trust me: you don’t want to live like that anyway. I can personally attest that it will only leave you feeling more deflated and defeated.

    Whether it’s friends or professional help, your support will be a safe space where you can share your struggles, open yourself up to the insight and guidance of others, and apply their suggestions to your life toward more positive and empowered living.

    4. Have the conversation.

    Once you have progressed through the above steps, there will come a time when you will want to have “the conversation” with the person who has hurt you. If you’re like me, you might be shaking your head, declaring that it won’t happen. I thought the same—until it did.

    And when it did, fists didn’t fly. Neither did chairs.

    Because I’d journeyed through the previous steps, I was able to come from a place of perfect peace. I was in control of my emotions. And I was able to lovingly explain to this individual how they had hurt me, how it had made me feel, and why I therefore struggled with extending forgiveness.

    Six months later, the process came around full circle and I was finally—finally—able to let go of the past and forgive. This didn’t mean forgetting about what happened. It meant reclaiming my life and deciding that the past wasn’t going to have any control of my happiness or my future.

    All because I’d made the choice to stop denying my anger and instead face it head on.

    What about you? Has denying anger kept you from moving toward forgiveness and peace? Try the four steps above. Go ahead, get angry (constructively)! Freedom’s waiting on the other side.

  • 6 Simple Personal Commitments to Overcome Low Self-Esteem

    6 Simple Personal Commitments to Overcome Low Self-Esteem

    “Everything that happens to you is a reflection of what you believe about yourself. We cannot outperform our level of self-esteem. We cannot draw to ourselves more than we think we are worth.”  ~Iyanla Vanzant

    You’re smart, funny, and genuinely good at heart.

    You have ideas that could solve many of the problems you see around you. You could regale people with interesting stories that crack them up. You could be the perfect partner, parent, or friend.

    But you don’t always live up to that potential.

    Something holds you back.

    Something tells you that your ideas are not worth announcing in public. Something keeps you from sharing your interesting stories. Something stops you from giving all you’ve got and taking all you need from your closest relationships.

    Even though you know that you can be so much more, deep down you have a nagging feeling that you are not worthy of greatness, accolade, pure joy, and happiness.

    Low self-esteem is keeping you from living your life to the fullest.

    Who Suffers More from Low Self Esteem—a Shy Person or a Gregarious One?

    I’ve always been gregarious, outspoken, and very extroverted. My husband, on the other hand, is very quiet and introverted.

    When I met him, I used to think he was shy and maybe lacked the confidence to speak up, like I did. Fifteen years of being together has shown me how very wrong I was.

    While I have always bounced back and forth between lack of confidence and overconfidence, my husband has been very even keeled, almost unnaturally so. He doesn’t get fazed by what people say. His decisions are not dependent on what others think. He has such a deep-seated sense of self-worth that nothing seems to affect him.

    Slowly, I’ve come to realize that self-esteem has nothing to do with being gregarious/extroverted or shy/introverted. It comes from a place much deeper, from within yourself.

    As a consequence, there are no quick fix solutions or magic pills that can improve self-esteem overnight.

    On the other hand, if you consciously commit to conduct yourself right, no matter what the situation is, you can permanently increase your sense of self-worth.

    I’ve been putting this theory to test over the past couple of years and have started noticing a much more deep-seated sense of calm within, from which a strong sense of self-worth has emerged.

    Here is a list of six simple commitments that have made the biggest difference to me:

    1. Stop pretending in an attempt to please other people.

    Have you heard the quote “You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you cannot fool all of the people all of the time”? Knowing that someday you will be “found out” is what kills the self-esteem.

    Hard as it is and vulnerable as you will feel, let go of your pretenses. Just be your authentic self. At first, the fear is crippling, but if you manage to get past the initial fear and take the plunge, it’s so liberating. And that freedom to be who you are, without excuses or pretenses, paves the way for a much healthier self-esteem.

    2. Learn to say no. Say what you mean and mean what you say.

    Often we say yes because of the fear of authority, the fear of hurting someone’s feelings, or worries that we will let someone down. But every time you say a yes that you don’t mean, you’ll end up doing a half-hearted job. And then you are unhappy that you said what you didn’t want to say, and you are unhappy that you did such a lousy job of what you said you would do.

    Break out of that habit. Instead, just say what you mean and mean what you say. You don’t have to be rude about it; just be firm and decisive. Developing the ability to speak your mind in a kind but firm manner, and to really deliver on your promises, will go a long way in building lasting self-esteem.

    3. Grant yourself the permission to make mistakes, and see them as opportunities for growth.

    You can beat yourself up over a failure, or you can give yourself the permission to make mistakes and vow to learn from them. Let’s face it, whichever route you take, you will still make some mistakes in your life. One approach chips away at your self-esteem; the other helps you become a better person. Which sounds like a better choice to you?

    4. Take responsibility for your actions.

    Again, at some point or the other in your life, intentionally or accidentally, you will let others down. When that happens, quit making excuses and accept them as a consequence of your choices. Quit the regret and focus on repair.

    Always be prepared to say “I’m sorry” followed by “How can I fix it?” and make sure you put in genuine effort to fix things in a way that is acceptable to everyone involved. It takes a lot of effort, but a healthy self-esteem is rooted in knowing that you always do the right thing.

    5. Help others.

    No amount of fortune, fame, success, beauty, intelligence, or strength can give you the same sense of personal gratification or a sense of purpose as a genuine “thank you” from someone you help.

    When you stop being so wrapped up in your own worries, sorrows, and melodrama and start being a part of the bigger picture, with a role to play in this universe, your sense of self-worth and self-esteem gets a whole new definition. Give freely. Help whenever you can. You will get more than what you thought you ever needed.

    6. Immerse yourself in whatever you decide to do. Quit worrying about your choices.

    Either do something or don’t. Stop second-guessing your choices.

    For instance, if you want to make some tea, first learn how to make tea. Next gather all the ingredients you need. And then make tea.

    Don’t worry about whether it will come out right. Don’t worry if anyone will like it. Don’t worry about whether you are worthy of making tea. Don’t worry about coffee drinkers. Don’t worry if you will ever get to make tea again. Don’t worry about what you will do after you make tea. Just. make. tea. And when you are done, move on.

    Constantly worrying about your choice as you make the tea will not do any good to you, the tea, or anyone else around you. Immerse yourself in what you do.

    Your self-esteem is a measure of how worthy you think you are. Don’t look outward for affirmations. Set your own expectations of who you should be and then do all you can to live up to those expectations. You have it in you to be the person you can be proud of.

    Commit to it and go become that person!

  • Buddha Doodles: Every Step Counts

    Buddha Doodles: Every Step Counts

    Buddha_Doodles_everystep_MollyHahn

    Source: Buddha Doodles

  • Loving Others Without Expecting Them to Fill a Void

    Loving Others Without Expecting Them to Fill a Void

    couple

    “You must love in such a way that the other person feels free.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    Conventional notions of what it means to love are populated with expectations for reciprocity, which often gets us into trouble. I know this personally, because whenever I have “freely” given my love and it has not been rewarded with reciprocity, I have often come face to face with my resentment.

    This has been especially true of my intimate relationships. I want the people who fall into this category, in particular, to reciprocate my love. I expect them to. But, as Thich Nhat Hanh points out, love is expansive, not constrictive.

    I had a boyfriend once, for example, who seemed to genuinely like spending time with me, but didn’t make our relationship a priority. This was a guy who was pretty laid back in general, and so I discounted his reserve and tried to be patient, thinking we’d eventually turn a corner.

    What became clear, over the course of four years, is that my patience was thinly veiling a whole host of disappointed expectations for reciprocity. And in the end I felt angry and betrayed.

    The question is: by whom really?

    When some time had passed and I was able to look back on the situation with a little more objectivity, it became clear that I’d entered into the relationship with typical expectations for attention, time, comfort, and affection—in other words, an agenda.

    I don’t mean to say there is anything wrong with wanting to be loved. There isn’t. It is a good and natural impulse.

    We all deserve the love of our intimate others and should be careful to choose partners whose love for us is a natural, abundant outpouring of their feelings, and investment in us and our wellbeing.

    The desire to be loved—to the extent that it is fueled by any underlying agendas or feelings of isolation and loneliness—can be very problematic. It often turns a relationship into some version of, “I’ll scratch your back if you’ll scratch mine.” And love isn’t contractual.

    However, bargaining is, and this, unfortunately, was the weak foundation on which my own compromised relationship stood and faltered. He failed to invest in the relationship while taking advantage of all the intimate benefits, and I failed to draw good boundaries; I settled for being used, rather than being loved.

    Revealed in all this was the fact that I hadn’t exactly been looking after my own needs very well. I’d neglected and betrayed myself, in some sense, and needed to assume greater responsibility for my own personal happiness.

    To that end I began a quest to locate the sense of inner contentment and satisfaction I so craved, but was not in possession of. I read books, magazines, watched films, and made note of what resonated with me and what did not—what stirred my enthusiasm, what made sense.

    I became more curious about my inner life. An act of love in itself.

    Later, I began a regular practice of journal writing and meditation. I’m a big believer in the contemplative arts, which, for me, can include things like painting, running, swimming, knitting—almost anything that helps you reach a more contemplative state of mind. For me this was huge.

    What I have learned the hard way is that a robust love stands the best chance of materializing between people who have ripened sufficiently as individuals. And it is always a work in progress.

    Love is never complete. Just as life is always moving and re-shaping itself, this is true with love.

    Thus, loving in such a way that the person we love feels free is as simple and straightforward as it is complex and discursive.

    Essentially, we need to practice being the love we wish to see in the world, and that requires a deeply rooted sense of reverence and respect for ourselves, our intimate others, and the wonderfully complex, exquisitely vulnerable, flawed humanity we share.

    It requires making mistakes, making amends, and trying to manage matters with an increasing degree of skill and intelligence, not to mention forgiveness.

    Here is a lovely quote by Rumi that really gets to the heart of the matter.

    And still, after all this time, the Sun has never said to the Earth

    “You owe me.”

    Look what happens with love like that.

    It lights up the sky.

    Which is to say, we need to be love. That is all there really is to it in the end—simple, but not easy, as with most things worth striving for in life. Then the love returned by others can be received as the gift that it is.

    Ultimately, love is its own reward. Generous. Expansive. Inclusive. Receptive. Liberating.

    Love well, live well!

    Photo by mrhayata

  • Today Can Be the Day You Turn Things Around

    Today Can Be the Day You Turn Things Around

    Sad Man

    “In chaos, there is fertility.” ~Anais Nin

    How did I get to this point?

    This question pulsed through my brain repeatedly as I drove to my parents’ house in a state of complete exhaustion. My young daughter was strapped in the back seat, my pregnant belly pushing against the steering wheel, hot tears streaming down my face.

    I was done. I had nothing left to give. How did I get here?

    Gradually, then suddenly.

    With eternal gratitude to Hemingway, three simple words so elegantly summarize how I ended up in a situation I didn’t want or expect.

    “How did you go bankrupt?”

    “Gradually, then suddenly.”

    ~Ernest Hemingway (The Sun Also Rises)

    It happened so gradually, almost imperceptibly. And then suddenly, unequivocally, shockingly, I had suffered an emotional breakdown.

    Looking back, I can see that I had willingly immersed myself in anxiety, perfectionism, comparisons, sleep-deprivation, a lack of mindfulness, poor health, and the idea that I deserved more from life.

    Gradually, these things took their toll. Until suddenly I found myself in a dark and frightening place.

    This gradual, then sudden decline is not reserved for dramatic breakdowns. It’s not reserved for high-achievers, or emotionally sensitive people.

    We each face sudden declines. Moments where we realize what we’ve been neglecting, treating poorly, or taking for granted. It could be our:

    Health – the moment we step on the scales, try to walk three flights of stairs, or look at a recent photo.

    Addictions – the moment we realize we cannot cut ties to a substance, an emotion, or a person.

    Debt – the moment we are brave enough to look at our credit card statement, answer the debt collector’s phone call, or realize we’re living beyond our means.

    Clutter – the moment we realize how materialistic we’ve become, how much money has been spent on stuff, or how entitled our children are.

    Time – the moment we realize we’ve watched more than sixty days worth of television in a year, the months are passing with little to show for it, or the reflection in the mirror is ten years older than we remember.

    Relationships – the moment we realize we haven’t spoken to our best friend in months, seen our grandmother since Christmas, or played CandyLand with our kids.

    Either we’ve stopped paying attention to what’s important, or we’ve decided that not knowing the truth of our situation is preferable to seeing the reality.

    Unfortunately for us, there will come a moment when things snap back into focus. And that moment will build gradually and arrive suddenly, leaving us reeling.

    Turn It Around by Embracing What Matters

    Just like the decline, the ascent will be gradual.

    When my husband picked me up from my parents’ house that evening three years ago, we drove home in silence. Our daughter was sleeping peacefully in the back seat and I felt relief. That night’s rest was the first uninterrupted sleep I’d had in years.

    Over the years, I have turned things around. I am happier, healthier, more engaged, and more content than I have ever been.

    As I realized my life had been one big, precarious balancing act, I began to see what was and was not important.

    Establish Priorities

    I took the time to work out what truly mattered. Once I removed the expectations, the comparisons and the thought that I “deserved more from life” it was quite simple to see what my priorities were.

    My husband and children, love, creativity, health, spirituality, joy and beauty. And importantly, making the time, space, and energy to experience each of these fully.

    Your priorities are likely very different to mine. But ask yourself, “If I took away the expectations, comparisons, and entitlement, what would be most important to me? Where do my priorities lie?”

    Embrace Mindfulness

    Initially, embracing mindfulness and really engaging with my family, friends, and work was terrifying. What if I was lacking? What if I didn’t like what I saw? What if they didn’t like what they saw?

    Over time I discovered there is so much more to experience in life by practicing mindfulness. Taking the time to engage in fierce and real conversations, to notice the exact shade of lavender in a sunset, to be completely in the moment. There is depth and joy right there.

    Care for Your Self

    I long neglected my own health—both physical and mental. But as I started my ascent I began to see huge benefits to time spent on myself.

    Counselling, time spent alone, eating clean foods, drinking less alcohol, sleeping more, exercising regularly, rising early—these changes all assisted my ascent.

    When you are unwell or in poor health, you can’t fully engage with those people and things that matter .Too much of your energy will go towards simply getting through the day. So ask yourself, “What is one thing I can change today that will help improve my health?”

    Find Contentment

    Learning to be content with my circumstance has helped me live a far more meaningful life since my breakdown. Finding contentment has brought peace and gratitude and happiness, where for years there had been none.

    I no longer feel like I deserve more from life. I know I can work towards goals and dreams—and I do, every day—but I no longer feel entitled to them. It’s incredibly liberating.

    If you can find contentment in life where you are right now, the pressure, the anxiety, and the stress of needing to be more simply disappears, leaving you free to actually pursue your goals and dreams from a place of peace and acceptance.

    Is Today the Day?

    Is today the day you turn things around? Or will you wait for the sudden realization that you have arrived at a place you didn’t want or expect to be?

    The beauty of it is, you don’t have to wait—you can choose to turn it around today.

    Photo here

  • Reclaim Your Authentic Self: 4 Steps to Recover from Bullying and Abuse

    Reclaim Your Authentic Self: 4 Steps to Recover from Bullying and Abuse

    Sitting and reflecting

    When I was in fourth grade, a girl from another class bullied me. I was in the bathroom during class when I heard the door creak open and whooshing shut. There was silence for a moment, then the girl’s hands appeared on the top of the stall door, followed by her face.

    “Whaddaya doin’ in there?” she asked.

    I quickly covered myself and replied as nicely as I could, “I’m using the bathroom.”

    “Well, hurry up,” she said. “Because I want to go.” There were three other stalls, so I knew I was in trouble.

    I had no idea who this girl was. I’d seen her on the playground, but I didn’t know her name, and to this day I still have no idea why she wanted to antagonize me.

    I finished my business and thought about just waiting to go out until someone else came in, but she was banging things around, and I didn’t want to be trapped in the stall if she decided to crawl under the door. So I walked out.

    The first thing she did was grab my glasses off my face and throw them against the wall. I ran over to them, afraid they were broken. I knew I’d get in trouble at home if they were.

    I picked them up, and as I turned around, she slapped me hard. I fell back against the wall, not even knowing how to defend myself in a fight, but I was lucky. She turned, and with her nose in the air, flounced out of the bathroom.

    I carried the fear from that experience, and others, for many years. After growing up in a very dysfunctional family, I had no idea how to express all the feelings that tumbled around inside and threatened to engulf me.

    When I was in my thirties, I began reading books like The Drama of the Gifted Child and For Your Own Good, and I finally began letting go of thirty years’ worth of repressed emotions.

    Over the last two decades, I’ve distilled the process of letting go of old emotions into four simple steps.

    Even though it’s simple, the process is not necessarily easy because it can be painful to look at old memories and hurt feelings that have been with us for many years, or even a lifetime.

    But clearing out the “emotional storehouse” opens the mind to more possibilities, restores self-esteem, and leads to a rediscovery of the authentic self, which has been trapped underneath all the repressed feelings.

    Here are the four steps:

    1. Figure out and acknowledge what you’re feeling.

    Is it shame? Sadness? Despair? Anger?

    2. Find a private place, and let yourself express that feeling.

    Cry, punch sofa pillows, shake your fists, throw rocks into a pond—whatever helps.

    Let your body do whatever it wants to do. You can also journal, but the feelings move out faster if they’re physically expressed, because emotions are stored in the musculature of the body when they can’t be expressed.

    3. Tell yourself you can let go of that feeling.

    You don’t have to keep holding it inside. Call up the witness part of you to comfort yourself as you express your emotions, and remind yourself that what you’re feeling is not who you are; it’s only a feeling that will pass.

    If you feel like you can’t let go of the feeling, ask yourself, “Why? What do I need to look at? What is holding me back from letting go?” A past event or experience will often surface if you ask with a feeling of curiosity and let yourself be open to any answer that comes. You may need to go back to Step 2 if this is the case.

    Repeating this step over the course of several days gives your subconscious mind time to bring the issue to the surface, and you may find that it’s easier to let go of it piece by piece instead of all in one fell swoop.

    If you’ve experienced a deep betrayal of yourself at some time in your life, your processing time may be longer than someone who hasn’t had many traumatic experiences. Be sure to be compassionate with yourself as you go through the process.

    4. Help yourself remember that life can be good.

    After you’ve let go of some feelings, call a supportive friend to talk about something else, go to a movie, or join a group that’s going to a fun place. Anything you enjoy doing is fine.

    When someone hurts us, it’s human nature to hold on to the hurt because we think that somehow, if we can figure it out, it won’t be as painful. But you hurt yourself all over again when you hold on to a bad feeling—thinking about past experiences can drag you down and make you miserable over time.

    It feels much better to let them go; just let their energy drift out of your body and mind. Once you do, you can see everything a little more clearly and be a little more in touch with your authentic self.

    Of course, it’s always prudent to seek help if your emotions seem too overwhelming or if you find that they prevent you from functioning in life.

    But if you continue this process over a period of time, eventually the old feelings will become a memory rather than a shadow that lives with you day in and day out, and you’ll be living more from your authentic self than from your past experiences.

    Photo by Frank Kovalchek

  • Dharma Comics: Perfect Time

    Dharma Comics: Perfect Time

    DharmaComics_LeahPearlman_PerfectTime

    Source

  • Don’t Respond to Drama and Drama Won’t Come Back Around

    Don’t Respond to Drama and Drama Won’t Come Back Around

    “When you are not honoring the present moment by allowing it to be, you are creating drama.” – Eckhart Tolle

    One day several years ago, I was fraught with anxiety over with how to handle an uncomfortable personnel situation at work. I had an employee that was borderline explosive and insubordinate. I was a wreck over how to best handle the situation because before I was this employee’s manager, I was her friend.

    I found myself wanting to fix the problem by delving deeper into her drama, wanting to know why she felt a certain way, what I had done to contribute to it, and how we could work it out.

    Don’t get me wrong, I am all for conflict resolution and open communication. However, in this case, my employee was demonstrating signs of intense emotions that had the whirlwind energy of a cyclone.

    Her behavior and outbursts were unpredictable and inappropriate for the workplace.

    Her complaints, when listened to with close attention and discernment, were emotionally charged from unresolved personal wounds from the past. The drama— the whirlwind frenzy—was playing itself out in our present time employer/employee relationship, but it had nothing to do with me.

    I knew I needed to step back from this situation to calm my own reaction and fear. I too was becoming overly emotionally charged because of my own insecurities and unmet needs as a new manager.

    I was about to try to resolve her personal pain by bringing in my own whirlwind frenzy of emotions. Not a good idea.

    I needed to practice mindfulness and step into a space of neutrality. A space where my drama and baggage had a zero electrical charge. A space where her pain could not feed off of my pain.

    Was I successful? No.

    However, I did learn a big life lesson that I have been successful with practicing since this encounter: Don’t respond to drama and the drama won’t come back around.

    Drama loves more drama. Pain loves more pain. Negativity loves more negativity.

    With the practice of mindfulness it is possible to not respond to drama. If drama comes into contact with neutrality, it fizzles.

    How is it possible to not respond to drama? The first step is to recognize drama when it is in front of you. It is also critical to recognize if you are bringing the drama.

    Here are three ways to recognize signs of drama:

    You feel passion.

    Passion can be a wonderful experience. It can also fuel dysfunctional behavior and cause you to react without thinking.

    Signs that you are feeling passion include feeling a rush of energy pass through your body, a red face, an increased heart rate, butterflies in your stomach, flared nostrils, or shaky hands.

    Passion can also show up as emotionally charged thoughts and judgments. These include strong feelings of right or wrong, disbelief, blame, sadness, or a vehement desire for justice.

    The words spoken and behavior demonstrated don’t match.

    If someone is saying one thing and doing another, this is a sign of drama. Do not be fooled. What you see is exactly what it is.

    Be the witness of your experience and observe this discrepancy. If someone is telling you they do not mean to be rude, but proceed to offer a berating or condescending comment, trouble is in front of you.

    It feels urgent.

    Very few things in life are really urgent. Urgent qualifies as escaping from a burning building or swerving to miss an oncoming vehicle.

    Many times drama presents itself in the form of pressure that feels urgent. A false sense of urgency can be imprinted on you from another person’s frenzy of charged emotions. Urgency can also emerge from feelings that you are responsible for someone else’s situation.

    If something is not life threatening and you are told it needs to be done right now and you feel a sense of compression or fear, chances are, drama is in front of you.

    Once you practice recognizing drama, you are better equipped to not respond to it which in turn, allows drama to dissolve and stop in its tracks.

    Try these three practices to not respond to drama:

    Observe your body sensations, thoughts, and emotions.

    Mindfulness meditation teaches us to be the witness of our experience. It teaches us that we are not our bodies, not our thoughts, and not our emotions. It teaches us to develop a witness consciousness and be the third party observer of our experience.

    The more you are able to be the witness of your experience instead of identifying with the experience, the more easily you are able to discern the truth and make better choices.

    If you notice your heart rate increasing or your face flushing, let that be your cue to physically step away from the situation. Be present with your sensations and use your breath and mindfulness skills to bring you to a state of physical and emotional homeostasis where your muscles are relaxed and your breath is slow and even.

    Once the body, thoughts, and emotions are back to neutral, re-approach the situation from a grounded and centered place.

    Create a sense of spaciousness.

    Many times being around drama feels like compression, buzzing, or a whirlwind.

    You may notice you holding your breath as lots of people talk at once. You may notice drama feeding off of itself as voice speed, volume, and tone increase.

    Create space in these situations by softening your facial muscles, letting the jaw slightly part, gazing downward, and breathing slowly. Pay attention to the abdomen as your breath in and out to bring space to the body.

    By bringing space to the body, you bring more space to your thoughts and less opportunity to react. Your spaciousness also serves as an orientation point so the drama around you can loosen its grip. By loosening its grip, there is more opportunity for change.

    Sit with the discomfort.

    Not responding to drama is a practice. Not responding to drama means silence. It means not asking questions that take you deeper into the scenario. It means not agreeing or disagreeing, either with words or body language. Not responding means neutrality and not lending energy to the person or situation.

    This is a challenging practice. It feels uncomfortable.

    The most powerful thing you can do to remove drama from your life is sit with the discomfort of not responding.

    What you practice strengthens and gets easier with time.

    If drama comes into contact with neutrality, it fizzles.

    By not lending energy to something you do not want, you immediately create a closer connection to what you do want.

    If you want less drama in your life, drop your drama at the door. If you want more peace, be more peace.

    And remember…don’t respond to drama and drama won’t come back around.

    Peace to everyone and enjoy this practice!

  • Becoming More Positive When Negativity Feels Instinctive

    Becoming More Positive When Negativity Feels Instinctive

    “Dwelling on the negative simply contributes to its power.” ~Shirley MacLaine

    If you have ever felt the depths of depression, you know it’s not the same as being sad or having “the blues.” It’s the hopeless, overwhelming feeling of melancholy where nothing, not even the people you love, can pull you out.

    It can feel like being under water in the ocean while the waves keep washing over you, pushing you further and further underneath, while no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to break the surface to get that much needed air in order to survive.

    Unfortunately, I am no stranger to this foe, this unwelcomed presence of darkness. I suffer from chronic depression, and it has followed me around for many years, letting me know that it will never completely disappear.

    For a long time, I thought of myself as a victim. It always seemed that others had it much easier. I felt so alone. While I knew there were others out there who suffered from mental illnesses, it was hard to not have a “poor me” attitude while living in it.

    I got to the point where I wouldn’t even try to go beyond taking a pill every day to stave off the depression. I felt hopeless most of the time. Even in good times, beneath the surface, there was sadness over the impending doom that I knew would eventually take over again.

    The last major depression I had was a year ago. I had to move back in with my parents (at age 34) when I was jobless, hopeless, and had just hit rock bottom. This has happened more times than I care to admit.

    But this time was different because I was determined to crawl out of that dark place and never fall back in again.

    I had a choice—I could either keep going down the same old traveled road where I knew all the stops and turns, or I could veer off in a new direction, one that might lead to inner peace and happiness.

    I decided to take the road less traveled. It has not been an easy one because I’ve hit plenty of bumps and I’ve also crashed into a wall or three. The biggest challenge was finding decent mental health care, since I had spent years searching for it, to no avail.

    After finally finding a good psychiatrist and getting my medication tweaked, I added some much needed therapy. This has helped me come to terms with the fact that, while my chemical imbalance is something that I was born with, I wasn’t controlling my illness; it was controlling me.

    This last year has truly been a turning point for me. Keeping a journal of my thoughts in both good times and bad has led to an epiphany about the way that I think.

    I realized how hopeless I had been for so many years. I was so jaded that I truly believed I would never lead a happy life due to my mental illness.

    I used to think that happy-go-lucky people had never experienced any hardships. I now realize that while those people actually do have problems, it’s their attitude that gets them through the rough times.

    Unhappiness generally occurs not because of what happens in a person’s life, but because of how that person thinks about what happens.

    I now know that while I cannot change what has happened in the past, my attitude and outlook in the present will help me deal with whatever happens in the future. Having control over my thoughts will make my inner world a place of freedom instead of a prison.

    I’ve become determined to be one of those happy people. But that takes work—lots of work!

    My negative mind rejected the idea of any positivity at first. Slowly but surely, using affirmations in my daily life has provided much needed guidance in my ongoing metamorphosis into a positive person. It takes practice to train your mind and you have to work at it each day, but it can be done.

    So how does someone become a positive person?

    Work on erasing that negative song playing over and over in your mind.

    Replace that track with a positive tune and make sure it is one you can dance to!

    Use daily affirmations. Two that have helped me are:

    “I willingly accept things as they come, even if I don’t like it.”

    “How I respond is always my choice.”

    Keep reminding yourself of the good things in life.

    It could be something simple—for example, that you have a roof over your head or that you have plenty to eat.

    Take care of yourself physically and it will help you mentally, as well.

    Exercise, eat well, take vitamins.

    I have to remind myself often that change is not going to happen overnight, and it will take more than a few months to be able to become the positive person I desperately want to be.

    I’m trying to talk to myself in the same compassionate way I would talk to a friend. I am working on seeing each incident in my life as beneficial to me in some way.

    In the last year, I have started yoga. Quieting my mind has proven to be quite a difficult task to master, since my brain is a blabbermouth. However, each breath helps be in the moment. I’m still pretty inflexible, but I have goal poses that keep me motivated.

    I have also started to meditate, which has proven to be even harder since, even though I have no trouble being still physically, that talkative mind of mine won’t quiet. I was frustrated until I started to use some daily affirmations and chants. I’m now able to channel and squash all those negative thoughts that pop up.

    I have also found writing to be a passion. Putting my negative thoughts on paper helps me to identify the distorted thinking that can still occur from time to time. It also helps me spin those thoughts into positives and look at things from a new perspective.

    Negative thoughts may creep back in sporadically, but I remind myself that how I respond is always my choice. If I have problems, they occur because I still have more to learn.

    Since I control my thoughts, I can decide to think positively about anything. My happiness ultimately depends on me.

    When I feel those creepy incessant thoughts start bubbling around in my brain, I remind myself that it took time for me to fall apart, and that means it may take a substantial amount of time to put myself back together again.

    While I hope I’ll never experience depression again, I know that I may. I also know that next time I feel it looming, I won’t go down without a fight. I’ve grown as a person and I am stronger today because of it.

    Many people say that you are who you are and you can’t change. I don’t think that’s true. It may take a long time and there will be days when those negative thoughts creep back in, but anyone can be more positive if they really work at it.

  • Emotionally Overloaded: Are You Taking on Too Much of Other People’s Pain?

    Emotionally Overloaded: Are You Taking on Too Much of Other People’s Pain?

    “All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.” ~Havelock Ellis

    I would have done anything for my friends, until one of them nearly broke my heart and spirit. He was my best friend. We felt like platonic soul mates.

    We had a standing lunch date every week, called each other terms of endearment, cried together, laughed together—the standard best friend things.

    Then, tragedy struck him. Over and over.

    His long-time partner left him. Then he lost his executive-level job. Next, he had a string of major medical issues that put him in the hospital.

    He needed ongoing weekly treatments to stay alive. His restricted schedule and constant pain made him unable to find work. He ran out of money.

    One day he cried all through our lunch, and then asked for a loan so he could pay his bills that month. I gave him more than he asked for and plenty of time to pay it back.

    He needed an organ transplant ASAP, so I got tested to be a living donor.

    I listened and was there even when my mood and physical energy were drained because of his tears and constant complaints about his life being “a mess.” How could I not be there? He was going through hell.

    But so was I. But I felt like my problems were nothing compared to his, and he needed me because he had very few other true friends and a completely estranged family. We were best friends. It was my job to keep him company and to try to help him in any way possible.

    And then, one day he never confirmed our lunch like usual. He never showed up at all, and would not return my calls and texts. I got ahold of his other friends and family, and the following two weeks were possibly the worst of my life.

    He had turned to drugs to cope with the pain. It turns out he had been putting on an act in a lot of ways. The money I loaned him was probably to buy meth. I felt betrayed, confused, but mostly scared and panicked. I couldn’t lose him.

    I did everything in my power over those two weeks to help him. I got in touch with his family and landlord.

    My phone was constantly buzzing with calls and texts, alerting me to his increasingly bizarre behavior—passing out in his hallway, urinating off the fire escape, casing the hotel next to his apartment for money and food, throwing all of his possessions into the dumpster and putting items out on the sidewalk to be taken away.

    He was trying to end his life. Numerous calls to police and wellness checks resulted in no benefit; he would appear of “sound health and mind.”

    He was smart, and had been involuntarily committed to the psych ward months earlier after a friend thought he was a danger to himself. He knew the right answers to give, and blamed his physical condition on his disease.

    He’s an adult, I was told. No one could force him to get help. But I kept trying every trick in the book to make him see the light and keep fighting for his life.

    Then, he cut me out. He stopped communicating entirely. I received a cashier’s check, no note, in the mail for the remainder of the loan. After years of almost daily contact, he was gone.

    And then, he died.

    The stages of grief hit me hard and fast. But one emotion hit me hardest of all: guilt. I felt I had missed something that would have saved him, like I had not done enough. But mostly I felt guilty because part of me felt relieved I could finally stop worrying about him. I could refocus on myself and healthier friendships.

    I had begun dreading many of our lunch dates. Would he be “a mess” again, crying in public, full of pessimism, unable to hope for a better tomorrow? I started taking on these emotions. Friends pointed out to me that my mood plummeted after time spent with him.

    Being his friend had simply become way too heavy a burden than I was able to carry. He was beyond help, because he chose not to help himself. He taught me three valuable lessons that have transformed the way I approach relationships.

    1. Trying your best to help someone is more than enough.

    Make a genuine but practical, self-caring effort. Sometimes you can’t do anything to help.

    2. If you start suffering ongoing, negative consequences from a relationship, it’s time to reassess.

    Maybe you need to be open about how the relationship is affecting you. Maybe you need to step back a bit and treat the relationship more casually. Or maybe you need to walk away.

    3. Everyone’s struggles are valid and important—especially your own.

    Don’t think that your issues aren’t serious or worthy of your attention just because someone you care about it going through “bigger” things. You can’t take care of anyone else if you don’t take care of yourself.

    If you have someone in your life who needs help, it’s okay to help carry part of their load temporarily, but you need to unload if it starts weighing you down too much. A best friend is their own best friend first.