Tiny Buddha

Tag: wisdom

  • Let the Energy of Unhappiness Power Your Purpose

    Let the Energy of Unhappiness Power Your Purpose

    Energy

    “The obstacles of your past can become the gateways that lead to new beginnings.” ~Ralph Blum

    The summer of 2007 was simply terrible. I wish I could find something positive to say about it but there really was nothing that I can think of. I was underemployed, the economy was tanking, and I was in a shame spiral of depression and self-hatred.

    Following a fight with my husband, I found myself driving aimlessly, snot and tears running down my face. I’m not comfortable saying I was on a mission to stop living, but the thought had definitely crossed my mind.

    It was just a bank advertisement that caught my eye as I drove, but seeing the billboard took my breath away. “YOU MATTER.” The image of those huge letters is burned into my mind.

    I wish I could say that billboard changed my life in a big way. It didn’t. But what it did do was change my life in a subtle way. The four years that followed that day in 2007 were similarly difficult. I was depressed, borderline alcoholic, and more deeply unhappy than I thought possible.

    But somewhere in the back of my mind was the image of those letters: “YOU MATTER.”

    By the fall of 2011 I hit my low point and I sought conventional counseling. I can attest that it was one of the best decisions I ever made. But there was a secondary emotional and spiritual journey that made an equally important impact on the quality of my life.

    That journey started with the image of the billboard coming back to me in moments of quiet. At first, I couldn’t help asking “Do I really matter?” whenever I thought of those words.

    Slowly, but surely, the answer became “Yes, I do matter!” Eventually it was not only “I MATTER!” but also “Maybe I have a purpose!”

    Professional help is so incredibly beneficial. But the truth is, it lifts a veil that reveals unexpected “stuff” to deal with. There were times when this felt like a vicious cycle to me.

    In other words, depression and anxiety… seek professional help… uncover some inner junk… inner junk causes unhappiness and despair… circle back to depression and anxiety.

    So, what can you do about that vicious cycle? What’s the point of having a purpose when you’re caught in a whirlwind of your own issues? The best way to describe the solution I found was to snag the energy from that cycle and harness its power for better things.

    The thing is, unhappiness and despair take energy. In fact any emotion takes energy, but unhappiness often feels like hard physical labor. Would you rather wear yourself out on something unproductive, or use your energy to do something productive?

    In order to harness the energy of your unhappiness and despair, remember that the energy isn’t a bad thing. It just is.

    If you subscribe to the theory that the whole universe consists of energy that is neither good nor bad, it’s easier to imagine a shift in more productive use of your energy.

    Think of emotional energy like an electrical wire. If a live wire is broken and lying in the street it is useless at best, and quite dangerous at worst. But when it is properly connected it provides us with power to make our lives easier.

    My spiritual and emotional journey led me to wonder if I could unhook the metaphorical power line feeding my unhappiness and install it somewhere else. What if I fed that energy into something productive? Something with a purpose?

    Connecting your energy to a purpose can take many forms. Throughout my own emotional and spiritual healing, I focused on hobbies. I learned that knitting can be incredibly meditative. I also improved my yoga practice.

    Carrying for a loved one or a pet, tackling a challenging project (cluttered closets, rejoice!), working for a social/community cause, or learning a new skill are other positive ways of diverting energy away from unhappiness.

    Taking the first step toward using your energy differently can sometimes be a challenge. Finding the motivation to pull yourself away from your own “stuff” to use your energy elsewhere can require some ingenuity.

    It helps to get in the habit of seeking that motivation to invest yourself in something new. In each day there is always at least one opportunity to be inspired. At least one chance to be reminded that you are not alone and that you matter.

    It may be subtle. It may be fleeting. But it is important to seize that moment and use it to leverage the energy you have at your disposal. Once you start looking, it becomes easier and easier to find those moments.

    Today I was feeling a bit melancholy. But I noticed the sky was an exquisite shade of blue and the sun was warm and bright. I was grateful to have witnessed that beauty.

    I held that moment in my mind and used it to channel the energy of my sadness toward a more useful purpose. In this case, it was my writing goals for the day. I felt much better for accomplishing something.

    Look at unhappiness and despair as opportunities. Start by revising your understanding of energy and know that it’s a free agent. Then, look for a beautiful moment in each day to serve as a reminder, and direct your energy toward doing something with purpose.

    Don’t forget to plant that roadside billboard in your mind. YOU MATTER—let it become your reminder!

    Photo by Crysis Rubel

  • When You Don’t Have a Clear Purpose: 4 Helpful Mantras to Adopt

    When You Don’t Have a Clear Purpose: 4 Helpful Mantras to Adopt

    “Don’t take life too seriously. You’ll never get out alive.” ~Elbert Hubbard

    I have always defined my life by my career. I think that was my first mistake.

    For the last six years, I worked at a publicity firm in Los Angeles.

    It was a job where your email is the first thing you check in the morning before getting out of bed. A job where you are on your phone while eating your dinner. A job where your boss calls you out of a funeral in order to send out a press release. Frequent travel, evening events to attend, and not a lot of free time. Not any free time.

    The problem was that this job became my life. I went from work, to home, to bed, each day.

    Seven months ago, I quit my job. In fact, not only did I quit my job, I moved out of my Los Angeles apartment and hopped on a one-way flight to Puerto Rico all in one week.

    I had met someone who opened my eyes to thinking differently and who let me see that I should try and find a life where I was happy.

    I realized that this job was not bringing me the life that I wanted to experience. My hair was falling out due to stress; I had migraines each week. My doctor even advised for a change.

    My first weeks in Puerto Rico were paradise. I lay on the beach, learned to dive, and got on a surfboard. I went to waterfalls, drank pina coladas, and I was in love. Soon, however, I started to come down off my high. I started to get anxiety.

    I realized what happened. When I took away my job, I took away 90% of the only thing I knew to be my life. I had a big hole inside of me now. I didn’t know what I enjoyed doing, what my hobbies were, or who I was as a person.

    Keeping busy through work never allowed me time to think about things like that. Now that I had no job filling my time, I was overwhelmed with thinking. The thinking soon led to over-analyzing, which then led to anxiety.

    I woke up each day with a knot in my stomach. What was I doing? Am I going to be happy today? What am I going to do for a career? What is my life going to be like in Puerto Rico?

    Often I would worry that my new relationship would fail. My boyfriend fell in love with me because of my independence, my drive, and my passion—all of which he observed through my former job. Now that the job was gone, I felt I had lost all of those traits as well and that he soon would fall out of love with me.

    What I came to realize was that “I” was not my career. That wasn’t what defined me. I still had all of those traits and more. I was putting these thoughts and worries into my head that didn’t need to be there.

    People fantasize about living on a tropical island. Seeing the ocean each morning when you wake up. Walking beaches with not a single other person on the sand. So why, in the land of paradise, was I causing myself so much worry and stress?

    If I couldn’t cease my worries here, I certainly had no hope anywhere else.

    So I made it my mission to not take life so seriously and to learn to be present each day in order to find happiness within myself and for my new life. These were my daily mantras:

    1. Give yourself some credit.

    I took a big risk when I quit my job. I took an even bigger risk moving to an island. Rather than being down on myself for not having a career at the moment or not feeling like my life has a purpose, I give myself credit for the little things: learning Spanish a bit more, attempting to surf, taking pilates each week at a local studio, meeting new people.

    When you are focusing on what you see as bad things, you are preventing the good from shining through.

    Don’t be so hard on yourself. Take ten minutes of meditation time each day and thank yourself for it afterward. Get up early and make a healthy breakfast. Talk to someone new in line at the coffee shop. Notice the little things you are already doing each day for yourself.

    2. Stop thinking so much.

    Think of nothing for two whole minutes. Clear your mind. Don’t put effort into thinking about things that haven’t happened yet. It will just cause you worry. It’s too much for one little mind and it’s a waste of your time and energy.

    I still catch myself in a whirlwind of thoughts each day and every time this happens, I stop, I take three deep breaths, I think about something positive, and I smile. There is always a reason to smile and less of a reason to worry.

    3. It’s okay to take a break.

    My family asked me why I was wasting a college degree and why I spent my 401k to move to an island. I didn’t have a straight answer for them, but I did know that I worked harder than I ever had for six years of my life, for almost twelve hours each day and put up with a lack of appreciation for what I did.

    So it was okay if I took some time to do nothing. You don’t have to be achieving scientific discovery every day. It’s okay to take time to simply be and to experience life.

    4. You don’t have to find your life purpose tomorrow.

    I used to hate the saying “find what you love and go do it.” As if it’s so easy. But each day, don’t be afraid to attempt something new. In Puerto Rico, I have learned that I actually like oysters. I love being in the water. I am more creative than I thought I could be.

    I still haven’t found what I love in life or what my “purpose” is, but trying is the only way to find it.

  • How to Be Happy Now (Because Future Happiness Never Comes)

    How to Be Happy Now (Because Future Happiness Never Comes)

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

    I used to think I was falling behind. Not on my rent or my taxes, but in life.

    One moment, things were progressing fine. I had friends. Good teeth. A boyfriend. I even had my own did-I-really-do-all-that-study-to-be-doing-this first job.

    But then it all went away. I became ill. And as the years went by, I watched from my bed as my friends led a version of the life I’d expected for myself.

    It was as if everyone had gotten on the bus while I remained in the bus shelter. Which had an interesting smell. And I’d sat in some chewing gum.

    But here’s something I’ve learned.

    When it seems as if you’re “falling behind,” chances are you’re leaping ahead—not compared to other people, they have their own journey, but compared to your original planned-out trajectory.

    A few weeks ago my husband and I were coming home after a sunny week poking around the Baja Peninsula in Mexico. Shortly before we were due to take off, the pilot told us there was a crack in the some-or-rather, the flight was canceled, and please would we return to the terminal.

    So there we were, a plane-load of people, some waiting, some proactively making new plans, when out of the blue our name was called and we were rushed onto a direct flight home to Los Angeles.

    Our original travel plans had us flying home via San Jose, a four-hour detour. But thanks to our “delay” we arrived home hours ahead of schedule.

    It reminded me of when I was sick, because what seemed like such a setback at the time was anything but. In fact, it was one of the great gift bearers of my life, propelling me toward something I hadn’t known existed but am so grateful to have found.

    What I thought was the long way turned out to be the short way.

    It happens all the time.

    I used to live in a small town in New Zealand, and I was always intrigued by the seemingly large number of people who, when asked how they came to live there, said their car broke down while on holiday. It was always the same: as they waited on repairs they took a drive and found the little out-of-the-way town.

    Car breakdown. Plane breakdown. Health breakdown. Relationship breakdown. Career breakdown. What seems like an impediment is so often a blessing when you consider the ultimate end result.

    What can be upsetting and worrisome is having your plans disrupted. Although, in retrospect, it’s often hilarious to think you knew the way in the first place.

    Social conditioning tells us there’s an ideal way for life to progress; it varies depending on your circle of influence. For me it had to do with getting a good job, being active, getting married, going to college. That kind of thing.

    And we make plans accordingly. It’s human nature—or at least the nature of our mind to do this.

    Yet our plans have nothing to do with being happy now, because that doesn’t need a plan. Plans, by their very nature, are more concerned with the future.

    Plans are about future happy. Sometimes a plan is so ingrained it doesn’t even seem like a plan.

    “If I get a good job, then I’ll be happy.” Future.

    “If I live to be an old lady, that’s the best thing.” Future.

    “When I lose weight I’ll feel self assured and confident.” Future.

    “If I sail around the world I’ll feel a sense of accomplishment.” Future.

    When things “go wrong,” as in not to plan, it causes us pain—sometimes, great pain. And the reason for the pain is it feels as if happiness has been taken away.

    If for your whole life you thought that being active or getting a good job and so on was the way to feel happy, of course you feel badly when you can’t do that.

    But the pain is in your incorrect beliefs. Happiness hasn’t gone anywhere. If anything, your capacity for happiness is probably growing. All that’s lost is your plan for future happy. But since the future never comes, future happy was never real.

    Time and again I meet or hear from people who, in dealing with challenging times, find more real happy. And chances are, if you’re reading this, it’s either happening to you right now or has happened in some way.

    Real happy isn’t some, “Wow this is amazing,” kind of feeling, or where everything is easy, but a deeper sense of connectedness—to yourself and others.

    Real happy is compassion that comes naturally, even for people you dislike.

    Real happy is knowing, deep within you, that everything will be fine; that you can handle whatever comes your way.

    Real happy isn’t something that can be taken away either, but builds in increments as you move through life, speeding up during challenging times.

    Back then I didn’t know any of this. I just thought my life was worse compared to everyone else. Of course, it was no worse and no better. It just looked different than I expected.

    If, by some miracle of time I could speak to me back then, I’d say:

    “You simply don’t know how the universe is going to deliver its splendor, but chances are it’ll look different than you thought it would.”

    “Sorrow is part of the process; a sign of faulty beliefs being released. Notice your thoughts as they come and go, stand back and let the pain happen if you need to, but know there’s something bigger.”

    Knowing me back then, I’d probably still be thinking about my friends and how much I wanted to get back to the real world. (That’s what I used to call it.) So I’d wrap it up by saying:

    “It’s easy to look back on your old life as if it were perfect. Or see other people’s life as perfect. But this is an illusion, the same as future happy. See how it feels to have faith in what’s happening now—not in liking it necessarily, but trusting the flow of life.”

    My friends got on their bus and I got on mine. They were different buses going different places. These days I try to see time at the “bus stop” as the possibility of a new adventure (and not because I live in L.A!).

    And by the way, it wasn’t chewing gum I was sitting on, but a sticky bit of self-esteem I never knew I had. And that interesting smell? Self-acceptance.

  • 10 Ways to Enjoy More: What’s Your Guilty Pleasure?

    10 Ways to Enjoy More: What’s Your Guilty Pleasure?

    “Happiness consists of living each day as if it were the first day of your honeymoon and the last day of your vacation.” ~Leo Tolstoy

    For as long as I can remember, I’ve had an epic list of guilty pleasures.

    As a young girl, my top three guilty pleasures included dressing up and dancing in my living room to Madonna (“Annnnd…VOGUE!”), watching over-the-top nighttime dramas with my mom over bowls of Breyer’s vanilla ice cream (“Kevin…I’m pregnant! And you’re not the father!”), and penning addictive, soap-opera-worthy novellas about the kids in my fifth grade class (they’d line up and beg for the next chapter).

    I found so much joy and fulfillment in those activities. And while I jokingly call them “guilty pleasures,” I never felt a single pang of remorse.

    As a grown-up girl, my guilty pleasures follow a similar strain: booty-shaking hip-hop classes, binge-watching Game of Thrones, and eating anything with the words “chocolate” and “peanut butter” (or both).

    Oh, and I’m penning a screenplay that’s one-part erotic paranormal romance, and one-part political thriller. (Obviously.)

    Clearly, I’ve got a lifelong passion for guilty pleasures—and I’m fascinated by how our bodies respond to our favorite ones.

    How our boundaries dissolve. How our curiosity ignites. How we find ourselves with an insatiable need to indulge (NOW!) before we explode with anticipation. (If you’re hopelessly addicted to any juicy TV series, you know what I’m talking about.)

    Guilty pleasures are exhilarating, and there’s no denying that they bring oodles of fun to our lives.

    So, why don’t we indulge in these pleasures more often?

    I believe the word “guilty” may be the culprit. For some of us, it’s hard to even say the phrase “guilty pleasure” without feeling a prickle of shame.

    And that semantic buzz kill needs a definition makeover.

    I’ve decided to re-define the term “guilty pleasure” as something that ignites and electrifies you in a way that should be totally illegal, but isn’t. It’s something you should enjoy every day, with wild abandon. It doesn’t (necessarily) have to be unhealthy or calorie-laden, but it’s got to feel decadent.

    Now that you have complete permission to pursue your most electrifying passions, here’s a peek at 10 ways you can make your whole life feel like one big guilty pleasure.

    Go ahead—indulge.

    1. Schedule daily guilty pleasure breaks.

    No more guilt means no more excuses to avoid partaking in your favorite pleasures.

    You now have full permission to take a break from work and read that enticing gossip blog, catch up on the latest season of your favorite show, or revel in a romance novel (or audio-book—who’s gonna know?) and savor it while pumping away on the elliptical machine.

    2. Spice up boring to-dos.

    Loathe folding laundry? Detest doing the dishes? Crying into Quicken? Crank up the music that makes you grin like a goofball (classic Justin Timberlake, anyone?) and shimmy while doing your chores. Even Gwyneth Paltrow rocks 90s hip hop while cooking her uber-healthy, organic meals.

    3.  Create guilty pleasure play dates.

    Stuck in an “activity rut” with your significant other, family, and friends? Instead of dinner at “the usual place,” infuse your favorite guilty pleasures into your play dates. Get creative: host an at-home triathlon (video game competition, quickie card game, or a cupcake-eating contest!) or take a guided ghost tour of haunted historical buildings in your city. Spooky!

    4. Just giggle.

    Nothing lowers stress like a good chuckle. Create a giggle bank of hilarious YouTube videos (the boys from Saturday Night Live + T-Pain = win!), Awkward Family Photos, and hilarious blog posts (The Bloggess never fails). Get yourself in stitches, daily.

    5. Try something brand new.

    For an instant boost of pleasure and adrenaline, try something you’ve never done before, but always fantasized about. Channel your inner Gustav Klimt at a nude figure-drawing class (Dr. Sketchy’s Anti-Art School is always a delight!), find your local Ultimate Frisbee League, or try an aerial yoga class.

    Give yourself permission, and enjoy every clumsy attempt. You may spark a new lifelong hobby!

    6.  Do a tedium detox.

    This kind of “detox” isn’t about gulping kale-infused liquids. It’s about clearing out everything that’s tired, tedious, and boring.

    Rummage through your closet and get rid of anything that doesn’t make you feel like a million bucks. Donate old books you’re never going to read, toss stale ingredients that hog your cabinets, and chuck dusty relics that make your home feel like a cluttered mess.

    Once you cleanse the un-pleasurable, fill those spaces with items that delight and inspire. (Or, just leave some empty space. Ahhhh.)

    7. Try on a new character.

    Ever wish you were a Sherlock Holmes-worthy super spy? Or an adorkable hipster like Zooey Deschanel? A head-turning hunk, or traffic-stopping bombshell?

    Instead of throwing on your usual “uniform” in the morning, try dressing like your alter-ago—and live out your day as this new character. This could mean a little harmless flirting with the local barista, strolling through the city in a bright sundress with a parasol, or jotting down secret notes as you observe passersby, at an outdoor cafe.

    8. Make pampering a priority.

    Ladies, remember how much fun it was to play with scented lotions, glittery nail polish, and cake-batter-flavored lip gloss when you were a tween?

    Primping and pampering yourself is (still) absolutely essential. Bring back the joy with a quickie 10-minute scalp massage, a mini-pedicure, or a pre-bedtime back rub from your partner. To keep it simple, just take a few extra moments in the shower to lather up and let your mind wander. Completely cathartic.

    9. Keep conversations centered on pleasure.

    I once read—in a glossy magazine, of course—that the French find it rude to discuss work, religion, or politics at dinner parties, and focus their banter on movies, art, and music. Infuse every conversation with joie de vivre by asking, “So, what are your favorite guilty pleasures?”

    You can enjoy a conversation with anyone if you shift the conversation to pleasure.

    10. Build a guilty pleasure emergency kit.

    If you suffer from excruciating headaches, you probably tote a mini-emergency kit around in your handbag or briefcase. Why not build a Guilty Pleasure Emergency Kit for a mood-boosting pick-me-up?

    Put together a bundle of scintillating magazines, juicy novels, caramel-laced chocolate (or whatever floats your pleasure-boat) and label it “For Emergency Use Only.”

    Of course, you may find yourself “inventing” a dire emergency (“What?! The post office is closed on Sundays?!”) just to give yourself a reason to indulge. And that’s just fine.

    It’ll be our delicious little secret.

  • Buddha Doodles: Self-Acceptance

    Buddha Doodles: Self-Acceptance

    Buddha_Doodles_Self_Acceptance_MollyHahn

    Source: Buddha Doodles

  • Confessions of a Love Junkie: Recovering from Love Addiction

    Confessions of a Love Junkie: Recovering from Love Addiction

    Heart in the Sand

    “The way you treat yourself sets the standard for others” ~Sonya Friedman

    Love is a funny thing. According to modern day psychologists and cognitive neuroscientists alike, the consensus is that it is just as easy to become addicted to falling in love as it is to get hooked on street drugs. But I think maybe my favorite drug is love. I guess they’d call it my drug of choice.

    The irony in that statement is beyond comprehension. Any one of us who has fallen in love, or struggled with addiction on some level, knows damn well that choice seems to have very little to do with it.

    About seven months ago I came to a breaking point. I made a decision to leave my spiritual community, to seek other ways to grow and develop. I was drained from giving so much of myself, as a result of not placing healthy boundaries with others and was suffering physically, mentally, and emotionally.

    I began to find it hard to breathe. I forgot what it was like to breathe deep into me.

    I didn’t realize I had become obsessed with loving everyone, but never allowed myself to receive love. When you are a love junkie, you think you know how to love well. You give your love to everyone and everything but yourself.

    It becomes an external solution to an internal problem. The saying goes that which we cling to, we end up losing. As a result I experienced a great deal of loss, because suffocation repels rather than invites.

    Addiction comes in many forms. You can smoke pain away. Drink the sadness away. Shop, gamble, or have sex until you think you have released your pain. It always returns because it never really left in the first place.

    So I tried love. It seemed like such a safe and noble way to escape the throes of my mind. And yet time after time I was left feeling empty. When you try to fill a bottomless cup from the outside, it never gets full.

    It was when I stopped loving myself at the expense of loving you that I lost sight of the truth. It was all the time I spent worrying about you when I could have been working on myself. I had started my process of healing, but I got lazy along the way.

    That’s the thing about addiction or escapist behavior of any form. It becomes comfortable. The slipping, sliding, and easing back into negative and unhealthy narratives. Those voices inside our heads which feed our deepest insecurities.

    It can sound like this:

    You aren’t good enough.

    You don’t deserve someone or something like this.

    You’re a bad person.

    You should have done this or could have done that.

    You aren’t worth the effort.

    You are going crazy.

    You aren’t trying hard enough.

    You aren’t doing enough.

    You aren’t giving enough.

    Do you see a pattern here?

    At the root of all junkies is the core belief that “we are not enough.”

    It was easy to slip back into these thought patterns because they had been a part of my personal narrative for so long. Thinking, acting, and being healthy was very uncomfortable for someone like me. Once I allowed this negative voice to become my internal dictator, my “love junkie” was awakened.

    Where I was misled was through this internal belief that things would be better if I only loved more—and this “love” was demonstrated by giving all of myself, not listening to my personal needs for space or voicing my desires, or speaking my truth in most of my closest and personal relationships, including my marriage.

    I felt that if I only loved more, then maybe I would be okay. Then I would feel whole.

    “Loving more,” really, was my codependency playing out, and it often took the form of:

    • Feeling guilty when I asked for things or wanted to make time for myself, out of fear of being seen as “selfish.”
    • Putting up with abusive behavior such as neglect, inconsideration, blaming, and shaming from friends, family, or lovers.
    • Feeling that if I distanced myself from these individuals or created boundaries within my relationships, it meant that I was “abandoning” them. As an individual who has experienced childhood abandonment and neglect, this meant I would be disloyal and undeserving.

    Until I was able to adopt certain practices and healthier boundaries, I could not respect myself. When I began building up that self-respect and deconstructing the self-denial I had become clouded in, I could then demonstrate authenticity in all areas of my life.

    As I began to understand myself better and treat myself with compassion and kindness I began to experience self-love rather than conceptualize it mentally.

    Real intimacy and connection begins internally. If we seek our happiness, acceptance, and contentment outside ourselves, we will never be satisfied. The journey starts with the first step of moving toward ourselves.

    I took stock of all the energy I was expending on people around me and realized my intention to love was actually blocked by my ego’s need to seek validation. In the quiet and the stillness I closed my eyes and began on the journey to find the greatest gift of all—myself.

    Today I experience self-love as a process that begins with a shift from recognizing when I am heart-centered as opposed to being centered in the mind. It is a process where one actualizes acceptance and release from the ego.

    When I returned to my spiritual community, it was from a place of great humility and personal grace. I was able to see it with a new pair of glasses. I returned with nothing to prove, only a deep desire to trust in a new way of loving myself and opening up to those capable of returning that love.

    Love is not an obsession. Love is not a possession or the pursuit of possessing any one person or people. True love fuels a sense of freedom and joy. It is a process of intimate liberation.

    Photo by GettysGirl4260

  • Find Yourself Before You Find Love

    Find Yourself Before You Find Love

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

    After a few years of living through the betrayal and anger of my divorce, my friends decided it was time for me to start dating again.

    They took me out to the bars, dressed me up, bought me drinks, and showed all the men how cute I was.

    I didn’t feel cute. I felt like a fraud.

    The bar scene was not for me. I felt like a piece of meat wrapped in cellophane on the shelf waiting for a man to decide which one he’d like to eat.

    I dressed up in my newly skinny body and looked the part of the fun loving girl, but inside all I felt was desperation.

    I put on makeup so men would think I was pretty.

    I exercised so my body would look good for others to gaze at.

    I smiled and giggled so men would think I was fun and funny.

    I didn’t feel fun, funny, pretty, or like I wanted to be looked at. I felt scared.

    I kept grasping at a portrait of who I wanted everyone to think I was. I so wanted to be this picture perfect representation that I thought men wanted. I wanted a man to like me so I could feel loved and validated.

    I finally realized my imaginary self-portrait was who others wanted, not who I wanted to be now. I was not being true to my new self.

    So I trashed the portrait, went home, and got my act together.

    I wanted to find love again but not like this. Not by picking up someone in a bar who was looking for love in all the wrong places, just like I was doing. I needed to learn to love myself, because no one else could do it for me.

    I wanted to find love by knowing who I was. Then I could find someone who complemented me. So I stopped going out and started to learn who I was, what I wanted in life, and what I deserved in a man.

    What I did learn from speaking to men in bars is that real men want real women. I decided to learn how to be real. Learning how to be real would require some investigative research on my part. I had lost myself in my marriage. It was time to find me.

    I decided to step out of my proverbial box. I had to try new things and figure out what activities I liked, and which ones I needed to stay away from.

    I traveled to developing countries. I had my palm read and visited a mind reader. I went kayaking, took up road biking, hiked on volcanoes, rode zip lines through the rain forest, joined book clubs, learned to meditate, I found out what tai chi was.

    I started to visit international restaurants. I went to museums and hung out in coffee shops. I got my yoga teacher certification and started to teach. I tried things I had always wanted to do but never could while I was married.

    I had fun. I learned that I favored Thai food over Italian food. I learned that I can ride thirty-five miles on a bike and love it. I learned things about me I never knew.

    I stopped wearing most of the makeup I had worn thinking it made me look good so men would like me. Instead, I decided to look good for myself.

    I stared at myself in the mirror and told myself over and over that I am beautiful, even though I didn’t believe it. The more I told myself I was beautiful, the more I began to feel good about myself. 

    I wanted my beauty to be defined by my self-confidence, which began to return when I started to truly believe in what I began to represent.

    I started to dress the way I wanted to felt, not the way I wanted to be looked at. I wanted free flowing clothes that I could move in. I wanted to be able to feel my body, not the clothes pinching me.

    I started to exercise because it made me feel good, not so I would look good. I accomplished both by doing what I wanted for me, not for them. I found exercise that I loved to do. I increased my yoga practice and kept on walking. I took up rowing and increased my biking.

    I stopped going to bars to meet men. Instead, I went to the occasional bar to hang out with friends and to be social.

    I stopped looking at men as the answer to my problems and started looking at myself to solve them.

    I realized I needed to know what my interests were if I wanted to attract a man who shared them.

    When I learned what I liked, I became happier than I had ever been before. I learned to be true to myself, not someone else.

    I realized that I had been incomplete without the self-knowledge required to define my own boundaries, my likes, and my dislikes. Without knowing what my boundaries were, I could never attract a person into my life that could live within them. I had never known how to define and stand up for my own beliefs.

    When I felt confident with my new self, I joined a dating site. I was far more aware of the kind of person I wanted to attract because I knew who I was.

    Writing my profile specifically for what I wanted and how I wanted a man to treat me was far better than telling someone to take me on a romantic date, when I couldn’t define what I thought a romantic date was.

    So get on with it. What are you waiting for? Get out there and experience life. Find out who and what you are. Live life by yourself. Be happy by yourself. It’s your life; make it what you want. Don’t look for someone else to do it for you, because they can’t. Only you can know who you really are.

  • How We Can Embody Abundance Regardless of What We Have

    How We Can Embody Abundance Regardless of What We Have

    Embody Abundance

    “Our greatness lies not so much in being able to remake the world as being able to remake ourselves.” ~Mahatma Gandhi

    Embody abundance. I heard someone say those two words the other day. What does that mean, really? To truly embody abundance, do we need to have everything we want? Or can anyone who holds space for truth experience a way of being that is free of lack?

    Maybe to embody abundance is to recognize the realness that underlies the illusory film that covers much of what we see in our day-to-day lives. Maybe abundance is always there, but we forget to see it.

    In my day-to-day work, I usually get to practice from a home office. After moving 60 miles outside of the metro to a more rural area, I hardly ever go into the city anymore. I tend to like it that way, spending most days at home, either in a quiet space indoors or outside in the woods or garden.

    When I do find myself navigating a more urban area, or even just venturing out of my familiar, natural spaces, my vision tends to get clouded with traffic, crowds, and consumerism.

    When the clouds roll in, it is all too easy to forget the abundance that I am usually good at recognizing. Sometimes I forget to remember to see what I want to see. 

    What if I could remember to look past the traffic, past the crowds, and past the consumerism? I wonder what that view could be like. I imagine it might show me wildflowers in the freeway ditches, insistent at opening their petals to the sun, despite the concrete that mars their view.

    It might show me a person, or two people, or a group of five, interacting with themselves, each other, and creation in a way that honors honesty and cooperation. It might show me vibrant new ideas that refuse to be pushed aside standing next to the whisper of peace that always keeps watch under the dull hum of advertising and shopping malls. 

    What if instead of seeing poverty, despair, pain, and cruelty in the world, we saw opportunities for growth, seeds of hope, room for healing, and the sharing of compassion? What if we could truly embody abundance in every thought? 

    Maybe it would make a difference in the reality that we live. Maybe—even when in unfamiliar, chaotic territory—if we look past the veils, under the illusions, and through the empty material desires of the current human experience, we will recognize everyday abundance in all things.

    Perhaps then we can embody our abundance to experience and remember all that is, absent limits and free of lack.

    Perhaps we can each take our life situation for what it is—a situation—instead of a sentence or definition; busy or not, and let it be a way for our being, our true self, to experience all that is worth experiencing.

    Each life situation is a unique chance to embody the abundance that is already in us. I can embody abundance. So can you. We just need to remember to do it.

    So walk through a grove of aspen trees. Stand in a ray of sunlight in the middle of the city. Marvel at the way your physical body helps you carry out the mission of your soul. Focus. Spend time loving the present. Take some time off if serves you. Enjoy silence. Be loud when being loud helps. Dance with your baby, talk to your neighbor, let the snow or rain melt into your skin, and see the art in the world.

    Look past the to-do list to what is. Find your abundance, and honor it.

    Photo by geralt

  • How I Found Peace When Anxiety Was Controlling My Life

    How I Found Peace When Anxiety Was Controlling My Life

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

    For five long years during my mid-twenties I was a recluse.

    Anxiety so badly affected my life it became impossible for me to venture outside my front door or to interact socially with other people.

    Fear and panic would envelop my mind and body, rendering me paralyzed from doing the things I dearly wanted to do. My hopes of being a normal human being lay in tatters. Everything seemed impossible.

    Seeing my old friends on Facebook and other people enjoying life, attending parties, finding partners, getting married, having kids, and talking enthusiastically about their travels contributed to my deep reservoir of sadness.

    I couldn’t sleep before four o’clock in the morning and would often sleep my afternoons away in order to find a temporary comfort in the evening hours.

    The loneliness was overwhelming, the despair was consuming, and the anxiety was like a constantly beating drum, reminding me of time ticking away my hopes, dreams, and desires.

    The Japanese have a special word for people who withdraw from the world. I had become a “Hikikomori,” and at the time saw my life as a recluse never ending and maybe even suicide being the eventual outcome.

    Fortunately, these grave predictions would never have to be realized, for with the gradual self-cultivation of determination, I began to fight back against my anxiety disorder.

    It was extremely difficult at first and there were numerous hurdles, but over a period of a few years I managed to achieve the normalcy I had so badly wanted.

    Today I feel as balanced and relaxed as someone who has never known the horrors that inappropriate anxiety and terror can bring. My years as a recluse are long behind me.

    I want to share four techniques that I discovered and mention how I used them to vastly reduce the anxiety in my life. Each one can be, and was, practiced in conjunction with the others.

    1. Stimulate positive feelings.

    For half an hour each day, I began to practice loving-kindness meditation and developed an appreciation for the people and the world around me. I took inspiration for this from a book by the late German Buddhist nun Ayya Khema called Being Nobody, Going Nowhere.

    This stimulated parts of my brain different to those that activate the anxiety response. By doing this I was able strengthen mental muscles related to relaxation and happiness. This also seemed to lessen the space in which my anxiety was able to maneuver, thereby reducing its strength and effectiveness.

    I knew the development of love and acceptance for myself was also crucial to my healing. There’s not a lot else that is more disconcerting and destabilizing than a mind filled with self-hatred or blame.

    2. Bathe in discomfort.

    We are not very good at accepting discomfort. Whether it’s physically or mentally, as soon as an uncomfortable feeling arises we instinctively try to get away from it. The more we do this, the more our levels of intolerance increase. This can become very pronounced in the avoidance tactics most anxiety sufferers evolve.

    The solution for me was to develop a gentle acceptance of discomfort, whether it was an itch on my leg or the unpleasant feelings of apprehension. I slowed down my conscious response to the feeling and observed it for a little while without trying to fix it or run away from it.

    I bathed in the discomfort, even when I was filled with horrendous fear, rather than immediately trying to find distractions such as food, TV, Valium, or alcohol. It was very hard to begin with but I kept going, kept trying, kept persisting.

    By doing this I found I was able to handle discomfort more effectively and appropriately. Fear and panic began to slowly decrease as my mental awareness of the nature of the feelings becomes more refined.

    3. Study the anxiety.

    It’s important when dealing with anxiety to study what you are thinking and what leads to increased mental tension. Humans are very imaginative, and while this has enabled us to survive and prosper as a species, it has also left us at the mercy of our inner-creativity.

    I began to study my anxiety and my thoughts. I constantly questioned whether the fear of impending disaster was legitimate or not. Whether it was likely or unlikely to actually happen? Was it a sensible worry to engage in on that particular day? Or could it have been postponed until the following day?

    If so, then I left the worry for the next day and mentally compartmentalized it so it would not encroach on my then present reality. In the meantime, I used my energies to engage in activities which I believed would positively develop me as a person, however small and insignificant they seemed at the time.

    4. Distract your creative mind.

    As mentioned previously, the mind is great at imagining worst-case scenarios. Inappropriate anxiety and fear are fueled by the creative part of the human brain. If an anxiety sufferer allows this part to run free then all havoc can break loose.

    When fear was present in my mind, which was very often, I began to realize it was important to try and switch my thoughts away from my creative and emotional mind, and instead into the rational and logical realm of my brain.

    This effectively reduced anxiety periods in a surprisingly short amount of time by engaging reason over raw emotion.

    I managed to do this by focusing my complete attention on to logic-based puzzles or games. I did various things including reciting the alphabet backwards, solving a mathematical problem, memorizing 10 foreign language words within ten minutes, or trying to comprehend a riddle.

    Relaxation is Attainable

    Nowadays I live in a foreign country with a woman I love and enthusiastically engage in a job I find highly rewarding. When I look back on the man I once was, sitting alone in a bedroom for years on end, without a shred of hope or happiness, I can’t help but feel immense love and compassion for that person.

    Life is not easy and when you get stuck in a rut, things can quickly become overwhelming and seemingly impossible to escape. An anxiety disorder can disfigure the sense of reality one has and render the world a terribly frightening and cold place.

    However, it’s important to remember that no matter how bad the fear may feel, or how much of a stranglehold anxiety seems to have on your life, things can get better. With a determined spirit, you can move toward a more relaxed, healthier, and happier way of living.

    This will not only benefit you but also those who love you the most.

  • AJ’s Art Journal: Change Your Thinking

    AJsArtJournal_Change

     

    Source: AJ’s Art Journal

  • Becoming More Authentic: Accept Yourself and Forget Approval

    Becoming More Authentic: Accept Yourself and Forget Approval

    “It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” ~E.E. Cummings

    For most of my life, I was a chameleon. I stayed under the radar, hoping I’d blend in and not draw attention to myself. I was full of self-doubt, so I molded my personality and beliefs based on my company. I traded my authentic self for the security of being liked by my family and friends because of my fear of being judged.

    By suppressing my opinions, I was perceived as easygoing, but at what cost? I disrespected myself by allowing others to influence major decisions in my life. I didn’t trust myself to make choices for myself.

    I withheld what I needed from others and was unable to communicate my emotions. My frustration of not being heard turned into anger whenever I did share my feelings with my family and significant other. In return I experienced anxiety, guilt, shame, anger, and self-loathing. That was a huge price to pay so others would accept and like me.

    I become addicted to my story of the “broken girl” who compromised her integrity because her voice and emotions were neglected by her parents. I used my victim story to serve as an excuse for my bad behavior.

    If I was “perceived” as a victim, I didn’t have to be held accountable for my bad choices.

    I learned how to use others to get the love and attention I didn’t give myself. I defined my self-worth by comparing myself to others. I tried to be perceived as “perfect,” so I created unattainable standards that left me disconnected.

    During my mid twenties I became tired of worrying about being inconsistent and acting differently around different people. I became disconnected to others and wasn’t able to cultivate meaningful relationships.

    It requires real vulnerability to be authentic. What if I show my true colors and people don’t like the real me? Honestly, even as I write this article and think about people reading about my flaws it scares the bejesus out of me.

    By twenty-seven, my life looked great from the outside, but on the inside I was on the verge of a breakdown. I was ready to create a more meaningful and fulfilling life.

    I realized the world needs us to show up and share our gifts.

    There is more risk hiding our gifts from the world than expressing them. Our unexpressed ideas, dreams, and gifts don’t go away. They destroy our worthiness and confidence.

    There is no shortcut to authenticity. It requires commitment and real inner work. I dove deeply into my emotional mess and started feeling the pain I had repressed. I made the daily commitment to take the following steps to be more authentic:

    Step 1: Forgive and love yourself.

    I had to forgive myself for my past mistakes. My ego enjoyed replaying my bad choices and punishing me by making me feel unworthy of love. By cultivating kindness towards myself, I honored and accepted the past, learned my lessons, and started loving myself.

    What you can do: Consider how you can learn from your past so you can do better going forward. Always be kind to yourself because you can only ever do your best. Be content with that.

    Step 2: Be willing to make a change and own your mistakes.

    I found the willingness to embrace my imperfections and share them with others. I started speaking and writing about my challenges through my vlogs on my website. I had to acknowledge some unpleasant truths about myself. The biggest one was admitting I enjoyed my “victim” story. I felt it served me by getting me sympathy and attention from others. By humbly owning my mistakes, I repaired my self-worth and confidence.

    What you can do: Commit to making a change. Get clear and admit why you hold on to your pain. Why do you think it serves you?

    Step 3: Create a daily practice.

    I created a daily practice of living authentically. I took care of my mind, body, and spirit and nurtured a loving relationship with myself. I looked to those who already lived authentically and noticed a pattern of traits they master. Below, I’ve listed the most common attributes all authentic people share.

    What you can do: If you feel disconnected or unable to speak your truth, identify which traits you need to cultivate in your life and create an intention to become authentic. Do the necessary inner work to reconnect to your truth and your authenticity will radiate through you.

    The traits I’ve identified as common to authentic people:

    Mindfulness.

    Authentic people accept their life experiences and feel the emotions that arise. They don’t repress their feelings and let them fester up. Anxiety and guilt arise from not being present. If we doubt our ability to handle challenges in the future, we create anxiety. Guilt results from feeling bad about past mistakes or people we have hurt. Authentic people experience life challenges from a place of love, forgiveness, and gratitude.

    Self-respect.

    Authentic people are impeccable when they speak to themselves, about themselves and others. They are mindful of the energy behind words and believe they are worthy of love and peace of mind. They have a healthy approach to life by knowing there will always be naysayers, and their opinions don’t matter.

    Courage.

    Authentic people create their own rules based on the standards that resonate with them. They have the courage to live their lives based on what they believe is right. This type of empowerment gives them the inner strength to withstand temptation and build self-confidence. When you have the courage to share your shame and guilt, they no longer have power over you.

    Boldness.

    Authentic people don’t allow their fears to prevent them being themselves. If you are focused on being true to yourself in every moment, you are less concerned about the potential for rejection from others. Nothing is more liberating than being yourself as fully as you know how.

    Being authentic is a daily practice. It is a moment by moment choice of embracing your truth and being fearless enough to share it with the world. When you have nothing to hide and you can freely be yourself with everyone, there is a profound peace and confidence you will exude to the world.

  • Dharma Comics: You Can’t Get It Wrong

    Dharma Comics: You Can’t Get It Wrong

    DharmaComics_YouCantGetItWrong

    Source

  • Why Empathy Can Sometimes Help More Than Advice

    Why Empathy Can Sometimes Help More Than Advice

    Hug

    “I have just three things to teach simplicity patience compassion these three are your greatest treasures.” ~Lao Tzu

    I have two teenagers. Anyone with children knows these years can bring their challenges. One minute they behave like a four year old and the next they are as mature as an adult. These fluctuations can pose difficult times.

    One day, after a particularly emotional and tough interaction with my son, I called my mother for advice. She had by all accounts raised three successful sons.

    After a long and detailed discussion of what had happened, she said, “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. It’s so hard.”

    That was it, not a single word of advice—just some empathy. I pictured her on her old fashioned phone with the rotary dial and the wires just making a simple statement. I was frustrated. I wanted advice; I wanted some magical activity or action plan that I could use to make it better.

    In my opinion this interaction with my mom was useless.

    Feeling frustrated, I called a very dear friend who has two teenage children and whose mother is a PHD psychiatrist. With children the same age, we had been sharing child-rearing stories for many years.

    I figured with that level of education his mother must have some advice. I gave him a short synopsis of the story and asked if he thought his mother could provide some any advice. “Oh yeah…” he responded, in a way that I knew there was a story to follow.

    He told me that a couple of weeks earlier he had been working on a project in London that required working sixteen hour days. Exhausted from both the hard work and plane ride home, he landed in the US after a long flight home.

    When he landed he turned on his phone and saw an email from his mother. Delighted to hear from her, since he had not corresponded with in a while, he read the email immediately.

    The email was very a long description of her concern for him. While the email was articulate and detailed, it was full of detailed changes of he “should” make for both his children and his family.

    He interpreted the message from his mom as criticism that he was not doing what he should, and his own mother was telling him he needed to change. Before deleting the email he responded to his mother, “Please don’t send any more emails like this.” 

    Even as he retold the story I could hear how much the email had hurt his feelings.

    My dear friend is thoughtful, articulate, kind, hardworking, good looking, and brilliant. My own wife often says that she wishes I were more like him. In short, he’s a great dad and a wonderful husband.

    Advice Is Not Always What We Need

    After hearing this story, I realized there wasn’t anything my mother could say that was going to help me in my situation with my son. Advice from her about what I “should” do differently was going to feel like criticism or be impossible to act on.

    I had created my own problems and could create my own solutions like most of us can. Often times we simply lack the confidence or the self-respect to make the necessary changes.

    Even though I did not know it at the time my mother’s simple empathy and acknowledgement of the difficult situation was the thing I needed.

    I wanted a magical solution, but it didn’t exist. Her empathy and acknowledgement of the challenge was all I needed. Like most advice, we seldom know we need it when we receive it. If it’s truly useful we absorb it and use it without thinking about it.

    Today when I have problems with my teenagers, I hear her voice telling me, “Oh honey. It’s so hard.” Sometimes it is, and that’s okay.

    How to Remember

    Remember, when someone calls for personal advice the most valuable thing we can do is acknowledge the situation without judgment and remind them that we care deeply. My mother does it with a Bostonian’s paucity of words. Most of us need to say more.

    In an effort to remind myself of this lesson, I have created a simple picture of the old fashion telephone my mother used until very recently. I post the picture in my workspace where I receive the majority of my calls.

    It’s there to remind me that most people do not want the instructions on “what to” or “how to” fix their problems, but rather to be reminded we care, are willing to listen and understand that sometimes life’s problems are not easy to solve.

    Photo by Anant Rohankar

  • What Seems Obvious to You Could Help Someone Else

    What Seems Obvious to You Could Help Someone Else

    Friends

    “We are not what we know but what we are willing to learn.” ~Mary Catherine Bateson

    Despite being a professional blogger, I am not particularly adept at technology.

    I don’t have a data plan on my phone. I don’t have an iTunes account. I have no idea how people do that thing where they connect their computer to the TV. What is this witchery?!

    But because of my age and my profession, people frequently assume that I’m a computer genius. They are sadly mistaken. One day, my significantly-more-tech-savvy BFF was looking over my shoulder as I checked email. She glanced at my screen and said off-handedly:

    “You know you can just click on that little arrow to read the next email, right? You don’t have to keep going back to your inbox.”

    Whhhhaaaaat?! My email-reading life = changed. Productivity = upped. With an afterthought of a comment, my friend significantly improved my work life.

    And I’m sure she nearly didn’t tell me because she thought her suggestion was too obvious.

    We’re all guilty of this, right? Discounting our knowledge because it has become so ingrained in our everyday life that we assume everybody else knows that thing or has that skill set.

    Or we worry that we’ll offend someone by telling them something that seems so incredibly, painfully obvious.

    But here’s the thing: what’s obvious to you is helpful to me. What’s old news to me might be fresh and mind-blowing to you.

    And really, we can apply this to just about every arena of life.

    It’s obvious (to me) that my friend is amazing/intelligent/double-take good looking. But after a series of terrible dates, maybe she needs reminding.

    It’s obvious (to me) that I should @mention people on Twitter when I write about them on my blog. But maybe my clients don’t know that.

    It’s obvious (to me) that when I travel, I should use packing cubes and Airbnb.com. But if you’re not an experienced traveler, you probably have no idea that your suitcase could be revolutionized by some zippered cubes.

    It’s obvious (to me) that I should buy my favorite jeans and tank tops in pairs when they go on sale. But if you’ve never experienced the wonder of Old Navy Rock Star jeans, maybe you don’t know.

    It’s obvious (to me) that I should end blog posts with questions to engage my readers and create a sense of community. You haven’t been blogging for five years? It’s not your fault you don’t know.

    For ages, I didn’t share these obvious insights with anyone. It seemed insulting to state what (to me) seemed readily apparent! 

    But after the fateful day of Email Management Epiphanies I’ve changed my tune.

    If you phrase it correctly, you won’t offend anybody, even if you’re telling them something they already know.

    Here are a few phrases you can use to point out (what you believe to be) obvious:

    “You already know about _________, right?”

    “I’m sure this is old news to you, but ___________”

    “You probably already know this but I always like to err on the side of providing too much information.”

    “Have you tried_______________?”

    And even if these things are obvious? Maybe your friend just needs reminding. Or maybe your comment will be the gentle push they need to make see things differently.

    “You already know about that website that coordinates ads for blogs, right?”
    Yes. And I’ve been putting off signing up and dealing with HTML editing. But I should really join.

    “I’m sure this is old news to you but Hipmunk.com is a great airfare search website.”
    Yup. I was sort of confused by the interface but if you think it’s good, I’ll give it another try.

    “Have you tried giving up coffee?”
    Ugh. No. But I know I need to and I know it’ll help me sleep better.

    And you know what? There are certain obvious things that can never, ever be  said too frequently.

    Things like:

    “You’re so insanely clever.”
    “Gosh, you’re good at that!”
    “You throw great parties!”
    “You really have a gift for this.”
    “That color looks great on you!”
    “You’re so good at handling tough situations.”

    Just because you think a solution is obvious, doesn’t mean it is. Just because you think someone’s talents are self-evident, doesn’t mean they are. Just because you think a best-practice is common sense, doesn’t mean it is.

    So go ahead. State the obvious. We’ll all be grateful.

  • Imperfection Is Lovable and You Are Enough

    Imperfection Is Lovable and You Are Enough

    “You’re imperfect, and you’re wired for struggle, but you are worthy of love and belonging.” ~Brene Brown

    We are all perfectly imperfect just as we are.

    Yes, it’s true. Sometimes hard to believe, but always the truth. Believe me.

    I’ve always recognized that I am a perfectionist.

    I was the little girl who wanted to know how to play the piano at my first lesson, how to roller blade the first time I tried, how to do the splits at my first gymnastics class.

    I’ve always wanted to do it right the first time.

    On the one hand, I appreciate my intention to do and be my best at whatever I do, but on the other hand, I see how this mentality has often paralyzed my efforts and prevented me from daring and learning to be brilliant.

    The one practice I’ve committed to in my life, where I’ve been willing to be less than perfect and continue to embrace each day, is yoga.

    The meditative quality, the healing breath, the invigorating movement all resonate with me and remind me to just be where and who I am, in each moment.

    It’s been fifteen years now since I began my yoga practice in an effort to release the tension in my neck that was triggering chronic headaches during my first year studying at UCLA.

    I felt transformed after my very first yoga class and just knew that I would grow and expand with my practice.

    In the beginning, most of my transformation was physical—feeling more relaxed, open, energized, and flexible. In recent years, my practice has guided me to expand my perspective, and I find myself open to understanding life anew.

    I’m discovering new ways of being and of seeing the world.

    Just two months ago I had a revelation.

    I was communicating with a life coach who is an incredible listener, endeavoring to understand why I was constantly feeling challenged in my relationship with my husband. Together, we realized that I was creating the same expectations of perfection for him as I had carried for myself since childhood.

    A memory surfaced: me, around twelve years old, sharing my report card with my father.

    “Why are they not all As?” he questioned unapologetically.

    I glanced at my grades, noticing that I’d earned six A’s and one B+, and said, “I did my best.”

    “I expect all A’s next time,” he firmly instructed.

    “I’ll do better,” I submissively acquiesced.

    And this stuck. The need to do better than my best. The desire to be better than myself. I wanted my father’s approval. I wanted my father’s love. I wanted my father’s attention. And so, I worked even harder and earned a 4.0 GPA each semester.

    But you know what? It was never enough.

    I never felt enough. I never could earn the love and attention that I desperately craved from him. 

    I needed to look within myself.

    Now, some twenty years later, I’m still struggling with my tendency toward perfectionism.

    This insight is life changing: A chance to understand myself better. A reflection of how and why I choose to think and act the way I do. An opportunity to acknowledge that I’ve associated being perfect with being lovable.

    Now, without judgment or criticism for myself or my father, I have the choice to change.

    I can choose to shift my perspective and tell a new story. I choose to embrace a new truth…

    Imperfection is lovable.

    With this knowledge, I see my relationship with myself and with my husband, my children, my family, my friends—with life itself—in a new light.

    We are all imperfect.

    But who wants to be perfect anyway? How boring that would be!

    The most fun is in the growing, in the expansion, in the learning and becoming ever more who we are.

    I release the compulsion to be perfect, to constantly achieve, do more, handle every task on my to-do list immediately.

    I allow myself to be more present, to be in the moment, to remember what matters most: love.

    I can let go of always doing and instead let myself be. I can stop rushing around handling tasks, and allow myself to stop and smell the roses with my daughters, kiss my husband, call a friend, stare in wonder at the beauty of our universe.

    I am worthy of love, I know I belong, I recognize my life has meaning, and I give myself permission to take it easy and just be me.

    I embrace this truth:

    I am good enough. I do enough. I have enough. I work enough. I love enough. I am beautiful enough. I am smart enough.

    I am enough.

    Can you say this to yourself and really mean it? Practice. Notice how it feels.

    With this new perspective, everything blossoms.

    I allow myself to make mistakes without being judgmental.

    I give others space to be imperfect without being critical.

    I allow myself to be me.

    I allow myself to love myself just as I am.

    I allow myself to love others just as they are.

    Whenever I begin to lose focus of this reassuring truth, when I start to feel overwhelmed by all the “shoulds” and judgments in my mind, I sit in stillness in my meditation space.

    I read the words I’ve etched on my chalkboard wall:

    I am enough. Surrender. Live and let live. Imperfection is lovable. Be human.

    Immersed in the sensation of my breath, I choose to focus my mind on these powerful truths. Soon, I relax into the comfort of knowing that all is well. And I begin again the journey of self-love and acceptance.

    I am grateful for being where I am, for all the wisdom and love so many gracious and kind people have shared, and for the powerful practice of yoga that encourages self-awareness and growth.

    I am grateful for the opportunity to recognize the perfection in our imperfection and to use this wisdom to infinitely improve my interactions with the people I love the most.

    Our minds are powerful. Our thoughts are powerful. Our love is powerful.

    Let us choose to focus on the good, appreciate who we are, share our love unconditionally.

    Let us remember that we are enough.

    Let us embrace our value and know we belong.

    Let us always remember that our imperfections are lovable.

    Can you practice loving yourself and others unconditionally today?

    Every beautiful journey and inspiring transformation begins with an intention and moving in the direction of where you hope to be.

    Wishing you ease in loving and freedom to be just who you are.

    Be human. Be perfectly imperfect. Be you. Just be.

  • Why Being Scared Means You’re Fully Alive

    Why Being Scared Means You’re Fully Alive

    I Can Fly

    “To be fully alive, fully human, and completely awake is to be continually thrown out of the nest.” ~Pema Chodron

    Last year I decided to do something I’d always longed to do but had never been brave enough to take the plunge: I started my own business. Not only was it a new venture, my business would be based around myself—my skills, knowledge, and experiences.

    Holy crap.

    My emotions swung from terrified to awkward and uncomfortable. Seriously, that’s how good it got, at least initially! It’s been exciting and exhilarating, but not in the least bit comfortable.

    Here I was, standing for the entire world to see as a self-proclaimed “person who knows quite a lot about some stuff.” I may as well of had my subconscious make me a T-shirt that read “Who the hell do you think you are?”

    Revealing things about myself was not comfortable at all. Opening up about my years living with depression—an illness whose superpower is convincing its host that they are worthless and weak—left me feeling vulnerable and exposed.

    To acknowledge my depression, and put myself out there as someone who knew quite a lot about a certain subject, was nothing short of excruciating at times.

    But I had my secret weapon. Over the years I’ve gathered a group of people who “get” me. People who love and approve of me and what I do. I’ve always felt like this tribe insulated me from the feelings of exposure and judgment I might get from other people.

    One person in particular, who’s been my teacher on one of my courses, is someone I particularly admire. I basked in the warm glow of his encouragement and positive feedback; I felt approved of, nurtured, and safe around him.

    Because learning is something I hold dear (and I was utterly clueless about it) when I started my business, I decided to take some courses in marketing and business building. This seemed a better strategy than stumbling my way through blindly, so I hovered up new information like I was starved of it.

    I started implementing. I made gazillion mistakes but I kept going. I kept remembering the phrase “There’s no failure, only feedback”—and I was getting a hell of a lot of feedback!

    But I learned that I was much more tenacious than I’d first thought. There were lots of challenges, but I overcame or circumnavigated them. I kept moving forward. I felt a teeny bit proud of myself.

    I gradually became more courageous and shared more of the real me with readers and workshop participants. I became less of the safe, corporate “me” and more of the real, flawed, goofy, “me”—complete with opinions, imperfections, and history.

    I told my story of experiencing depression for years and rather than being lambasted for it, the connections I made with my students and readers were profound and rewarding. No one told me they thought less of me for it; if anything, they thought I was brave.

    Work started to come in—a trickle, but definitely a move in the right direction. As I took my wobbly steps one after the other, I started to feel stronger and more confident. My tribe was great—super supportive and really encouraging. It felt good.

    Apart from one thing.

    The teacher I admired so much didn’t seem approving. In fact, he seemed critical and dismissive of what I was doing.

    And I felt crushed.

    When we’re trying something new we can feel fragile, and any little thing can dent our confidence and break our resolve. It’s even more acute when we’re putting ourselves out there, whether that is through our creative work or our personal stories.

    When someone doesn’t approve of our work, it’s like they don’t approve of us. And this is painful—especially when the person in question is someone we admire and crave approval from.

    I so wanted him to get it—to support and champion what I was doing. But he didn’t. He wasn’t nasty or cruel; he’s a kind and warm person and that would be totally out of character for him.

    But his response was somehow harder to deal with. He was dismissive and uninterested.

    I bundled up my courage and asked him if something was wrong.

    “No,” came the reply, complete with furrowed brow and an edge of confusion in his voice. “I don’t really get what you’re doing. For me, it doesn’t work.”

    Because all of this self-growth stuff is a journey without a destination (the journey is the destination) I know that I would have responded in different ways at different times in this journey. Here are some past options:

    1. Stop completely. This feels too hard/scary and unsafe. I am obviously not good enough and certainly not strong enough to carry on.

    2. Stop, retreat, and go back to my original, “safe” world. Try and replicate whatever advice my teacher gives me, encompassing his philosophy, beliefs, and experience. I disappear but at least I don’t risk feeling unlovable.

    3. Rationalize his behavior; put it down to envy at my emerging success, or insecurity on his part for moving on from his teachings. I mean what’s his problem?

    4. Carry on, feeling the pain but moving through it anyway.

    To be honest, all of these were tempting. Having an excuse not to be “out there” feeling exposed and vulnerable was very enticing. I could go back to being safe, anonymous, and totally invisible.

    Even though it would be like silently dying inside everyday.

    So that wouldn’t really be a viable option then! I needed to do something different. I needed a shift of perspective. My teacher isn’t a cruel or vicious man, and his comments weren’t meant to wound me. So why was I hurt that what I was doing didn’t work for him?

    That was it; that was the shift I needed. What I was doing didn’t work for him. Instead of beating myself up and falling into a pit of “what’s wrong with me?” I realized it wasn’t about me at all.

    I’m a keen cake baker, and if I make a carrot cake (one of my favorites) I don’t get offended if someone says “Oh, thanks but I don’t really like carrot cake.”

    I know that this situation is different from a cake, but the analogy still holds. My teacher wasn’t saying, “I don’t like you.” He was saying that what I was writing about and publishing as part of my business didn’t work for him.

    So this was the response I chose instead:

    Realize that we’re on different paths. I don’t need him to approve of and like 100% of what I do. I know he respects me; it’s just not his thing. It’s my thing.

    It’s carrot cake. And there are plenty of other people out there who really like carrot cake.

    I don’t need everyone to appreciate the same things as me. My sense of self isn’t entirely dependent on what other people think. Hell, I’m still human; of course it still feels great when other people affirm me, but I don’t need it to still be okay with myself.

    Inside the nest feels safe and warm.

    But outside of the nest is where we learn to fly—feeling scared, but awake, alive, and fully human.

    Photo by Anurag

  • Buddha Doodles: Your Smile

    Buddha Doodles: Your Smile

    Buddha_Doodles_Smile_MollyHahn

    Source: Buddha Doodles

  • Letting Go of Fear and Living in Peace

    Letting Go of Fear and Living in Peace

    At Peace

    “Peace cannot be kept by force.  It can only be achieved by understanding.”  ~Albert Einstein

    I sat in the waiting room of the dermatologist’s office waiting to be seen. For years I have had skin problems, from fungal infections to dermatitis. But when my dentist noticed an indentation the size of a mosquito bite on my upper lip that had not healed in the five weeks since I had seen her, she sent an urgent message to my primary care physician.

    The next day, I was seen by my primary care physician and referred immediately to a dermatologist. The medical receptionist handed me a piece of paper with a big green dot next to the words “cancer screening.”

    The word “cancer” brought up all sorts of images:  throwing up, losing hair, and sometimes death.

    Years ago, I was diagnosed with pre-cancer. Had it finally developed into the real thing? 

    There were two other patients in the waiting room. An older woman with yellow tinted sunglasses and a full head of wavy gray hair sat completely absorbed reading a magazine article.

    A younger woman with long brown hair clutched an explanation from the medical billing department about the cost of other services, but no matter how many times she glanced at the paper, her gaze quickly flickered away, as if she was preoccupied with other thoughts.

    Had she also come to discover whether or not she was cancer-free?

    An undercurrent of agitation swam beneath the waiting room calmness, and I closed my eyes briefly and practiced breathing.

    When I was in my twenties, my mind and body wellness doctor mentioned I had a tendency to hold my breath during crucial moments, locking emotions into my body long after the event had taken place. The key was to remember to breathe during those big moments and let the feelings flow through me instead of getting stuck.

    I thought about dying and realized I was not afraid to die.  I was at peace with myself and how I had lived my life. 

    Sure, I thought about the practical things: bills, savings, and life insurance. I also thought about the impractical things: husband and children. I even thought about my legacy: my books and my paintings.

    If I died, I had enough life insurance to pay off the mortgage and allow my husband time to remarry. If I died, my children would finish growing up without a mother but not without mother-figures. If I died, the books and paintings would go on to entertain and delight others.

    What surprised me most was I didn’t have an urgent need to execute a bucket list if I was told I had only six months or a year to live. I felt no desire to quit my job, travel the world, or race a formula one car. I would go on as I had always done: following the same routine every day until there were no days left.

    Why?

    Over the years, I had abandoned the emergency living I was accustomed to as a young adult in favor of the one-day-at-a-time practice of mindfulness I had adopted as a middle-aged woman.

    Gone were the spontaneous forays into carpe diem that led me down selfish roads that hurt the ones I loved.

    Gone were the days when I would miserably brood over the things others had done to hurt me, whether unknowingly or intentionally. Gone were the fantasies of a life full of adventure at the expense of abandoning a disabled child I struggled to love.

    Now carpe diem translated into loading the dishwasher for my tired husband although it was his assigned chore. Now I no longer brooded miserably over hurt feelings, but said something immediately to diffuse misunderstanding. Now I no longer pined for foreign adventures, but cherished spending quiet moments with my disabled son.

    Sure, I had moments of discontent. Who doesn’t? But a fight with my husband no longer propelled me into arms of another man.

    Sure, I still envied people who could travel to foreign countries without rearranging the lives of everyone around them. But I found contentment in reading about their adventures, knowing how exhausting it already was to hire and train a respite worker to care for my son just so my husband and I could have a night out.

    Sure, I still had hopes and dreams for a life of abundance, but I was no longer going to discount the blessings I already had.

    If I did have cancer and if I did die from it, I would not change a thing in my life.

    I was not afraid of dying. Dying meant leaving my body, a habitat everyone must eventually leave. Who was I to ask to have my body forever?

    No one knew what exactly happened to the soul, but I suspected it would transcend whatever limits the body had imposed on me. If nothing else, I would live on through the ones I had left behind and their lives would become inextricably connected with mine.

    When the nurse called my name, I stood up and went into the examination room. The dermatologist arrived shortly thereafter and examined me.

    He didn’t know whether or not the skin abnormality was cancerous or not, but he wanted me to try an experimental drug for one month before performing a biopsy and authorizing further treatment.

    I left the doctor’s office without a firm diagnosis. I still don’t know whether or not I have cancer. And, frankly, it doesn’t matter whether or not I have it or whether or not I will die from it.

    What matters is the life I have been given.

    None of us knows when our time on this planet will be up. But we all know we have choices on how we live the moments that have been given to us right now. Our thoughts and our actions illuminate who we are and what we have to give.

    Each moment, no matter how seemingly insignificant, is wrought with hope and faith and love. 

    Breathe in, breathe out. You cannot be afraid if you live in peace.

    Photo by Frank Volachek

  • Good News: Bad Moods Don’t Have to Be So Bad

    Good News: Bad Moods Don’t Have to Be So Bad

    “Most of the shadows in life are caused by standing in our own sunshine.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

    How many times have you heard “Follow your heart” or “Let emotion be your guide”?

    Too many to count, I’d bet.

    It’s generally good advice; it’s certainly wiser to follow your own feelings than to blindly do what other people think you should do.

    But reading into your emotions can also lead you astray.

    You see, you are always feeling your thinking. You are not necessarily always feeling “the truth,” or even your own personal truth.

    Every emotion, feeling, or mood you experience follows directly from the thinking you are experiencing. That thinking is not always accurate or important. It does not always indicate what’s best for you.

    In reality, your feelings are nothing more than feedback about your thinking.

    Feelings are not feedback about your mental health, the state of your life, or whether you have the “right” job, partner, or dietary habits.

    I used to think they were. When something in my environment seemingly aroused negative emotion in me, I’d jump into action. Life became a game of adding in the “right stuff” and subtracting out the “wrong stuff” in order to feel as good as possible.

    I thought this was very enlightened; after all, I was no longer willing to put up with what didn’t feel good and I was consciously choosing more of what did.

    I’d notice some negative feelings about my job and immediately start looking for a new one. Clearly, my job wasn’t a good fit. I deserved a job where I could be nearly-always happy, I reasoned.

    Predictably (in hindsight), the moment I decided the job wasn’t a good fit, a million examples of how it wasn’t perfect would show up—things I had never noticed before. I took those as “signs”—further evidence that I had better focus on that exit strategy, and fast.

    Since I decided that my job was the cause of my distress and that I’d feel much better when I found a new one, that naturally led to the conclusion that that I wouldn’t feel better until I was in that new job.

    I innocently set things up so that I couldn’t possibly be happy until I made the change that was supposed to fix everything.

    I also did this in reverse, by the way, adding in more of the good-feeling “stuff” that I thought were the source of the positive emotions I craved.

    Although I thought this an enlightened way to be, hunting and gathering good-feeling “stuff” and playing whack-a-mole with bad-feeling “stuff,” it was based on the gigantic illusion that my feelings were based on my surroundings.

    In truth, my feelings were simply feedback about my thinking, and my thinking was not dictated by my job or anything else outside of myself.

    Thinking isn’t dictated by anything. It just arises, with emotion tagging along, and we hold on to it and tell stories about it.

    Or we don’t.

    Nothing needs to be done.

    Rather than jumping into addition or subtraction action, relax. There is nothing to do with or about bad feelings. Because thoughts are transitory, impersonal, and always in motion, feelings are too.

    The word emotion means in motion, as in always moving.

    From the time you woke up this morning to right now, you’ve probably had a few hundred thousand thoughts and feelings to which you paid virtually no attention. Paid no attention, they promptly floated away—in motion—and were replaced by new thoughts and feelings.

    Each time your mind drifts from the morning staff meeting to your lunch plans and back to the meeting again, it’s happening. Each time you cycle through, “I’m having a fantastic hair day” to “Did I clean the cat hair off this jacket?” to “I hope it’s warm enough to go without a jacket tonight,” it’s happening.

    Thoughts and feelings change all day every day with absolutely no effort or fanfare.

    This would be true of all thoughts and feelings if you treated them all the way you treat the ones about meetings, lunch, and hair.

    But since you’re human, you don’t treat them all the same. You hold on to some thoughts and spin them around in your mind. You give them importance and meaning. You imbue them with emotion and attention, which are the equivalent of mental superglue.

    Thoughts are like breath—when you stop holding your breath, new breath rushes in. When you stop holding your thoughts, new ones rush in, bringing new feelings in tow.

    All you ever have “to do” is nothing. The only position you ever have to take is of non-interference.

    What’s Possible

    Nearly everyone I talk to wants bad feelings to go away. Even when they intellectually understand that bad feelings aren’t meaningful or harmful, and even when they intellectually get that feelings are always in motion, they feel down and instantly try to feel better.

    They think I’m naive or unrealistically spiritual when I tell them that bad feelings don’t have to be a big deal. They don’t have to feel so “bad.”

    “You don’t understand my emotions,” they say. “Mine hit harder than others’.”

    Or, “But everyone knows shame is the hardest to handle,” or “I’ve had these since birth, so they’re more real than most.”

    I still say they don’t have to be so bad.

    The more you understand that your experience of life is entirely thought-created and that “you” aren’t what you think you are, your attachment to feelings—good and bad—begins to shift.

    You connect and identify with something deeper, something beyond fleeting feelings.

    It becomes obvious that bad feelings are only your surface psychology; they can’t touch who you truly are. You can rest in your true self which is always stable and always there.

    As it turns out, much of the negative experience of emotions is the cover-up. It’s when you resist, hide, or try to change those emotions that you experience them as painful.

    When you do that, you’re playing with mental superglue again. You’re putting so much pressure and focus on those emotions that they are held in place. Remember, when you don’t hold on to thought and emotion, new thought and emotion rushes in.

    I can honestly say that my experience of bad feelings is drastically different than it once was. This may sound insane, but I don’t mind feeling “bad” so much anymore.

    In fact, sometimes it’s kind of nice to settle into a bad mood. It’s a little like the comfort you might find in a rainy day once you accept that the rain is a reality and stop wanting it to change.

    I find myself deciding to just lay low and ride out the mood, just like I would the rain. I know it will change. Paradoxically, when I approach bad moods in this way they end up changing before I have a chance to experience them as “bad.”

    Emotions are naturally in motion. There is an awareness and distance that prevents me from being taken down by them.

    This is completely possible for anyone, even you.

  • AJ’s Art Journal: Fresh Eyes

    AJ’s Art Journal: Fresh Eyes

    fresh-eyes