Tiny Buddha

Tag: workaholism

  • The Problem with Meditating to Become More Productive

    The Problem with Meditating to Become More Productive

    “Stress is caused by being ‘here’ but wanting to be ‘there,’ or being in the present but wanting to be in the future.” ~Eckhart Tolle, The Power of Now

    I started learning yoga and meditation when I was eighteen years old, in the late nineties, in the car garage of one of the few yoga teachers in Puerto Rico. I took to it like a duck to water.

    By the time I was twenty-five, I had spent months on Buddhist silent retreats, living in ashrams in the USA, India, and Burma.

    Meditative practices and retreats provided me with great moments of insight and healing and allowed me to have profound realizations about the goodness of my nature, my connectedness to others, and life itself.

    They gave me access to states of wisdom, deep compassion, and loving kindness and brought me back again and again to the sacredness of the present moment. They also helped me heal from a painful eating disorder I suffered from at the time.

    I fell in love with the Buddha’s teachings. I went on a pilgrimage a couple of times through India, visiting the historical sites related to the Buddha. I also went ahead and visited Myanmar and Thailand, where I meditated in temples and met truly remarkable teachers and practitioners.

    Something about the connection between mind and body that I discovered through insight practices, the astounding beneficial effects of concentration practices in calming the mind and getting some detachment from painful and intrusive thoughts, and the healing effects of loving-kindness practices had me fascinated with the teachings.

    I then went on to get a master’s degree in Buddhist studies so that I could learn some of the ancient languages and go more in depth into the history and principles of Buddhism.

    Yet, these experiences often took place in the midst of a frenzied lifestyle. I was, at times, working as a waitress, saving money so that I could go on one more retreat, or having various jobs on the side to finance my studies and travels.

    It was often the case that as soon as I stood up from my cushion or left the retreats, I would be in the “getting things done” mode, going back into an agitated routine—as if the practices were there to make me more productive and to catapult me into a high-performance state, as if the peace was there to help me accomplish even more.

    I remember my university days when, for weeks on end, I decided I wanted to meditate for three hours a day. I would rush through my day, turn down social invitations, and maximize the use of my time so that I could get my precious 180 minutes of silence.

    I hope not so many people can relate to this, but I remember times when I would get home, drop the keys on the table, put on my meditation alarm clock, sit for sixty minutes, and hop up just in time for my next appointment. Needless to say, there were many days when those three meditation hours were not the most peaceful hours of my day.

    Granted, I was young and a bit extreme, but this was before the advent of the smartphone. Thereafter, I would sprint from meditation to check all my messages and notifications, lacking the self-discipline or awareness to give myself space and time to integrate things. This habit went on well into my adult years.

    Eventually, it started to be the other way around. The productive and achieving attitude I had outside of meditation periods started to infiltrate my spiritual practice, and I became determined and hurried to “reach the ultimate spiritual goal.” (Not quite sure what that was at the time—maybe becoming enlightened, or fully healed, or at least in a permanent state of equipoise… reaching nirvana if you would have allowed me to dream big.)

    This really did NOT work very well. It was like trying to go down the river by swimming against the current. Not only was this not effective, but it actually became harmful—grinding my being into a stressful, achieving state for hours on end, guided by a sort of FOMO on enlightenment. I would finish some meditations agitated on good days and very overwhelmed on bad ones.

    As it turns out, there are many good reasons why many spiritual teachers emphasize the importance of letting go of spiritual agendas in one’s practice and engaging with the present moment as it is without aiming for a future moment.

    It is not like I did not know this. I had undertaken graduate studies on Buddhism and had heard more spiritual talks than my brain could ever remember. But I found there are very good reasons as to why workaholism is considered a serious addiction that is rampant in industrialized modern societies, with some estimates suggesting that 25–30% of the population suffers from it to some degree.

    Talking with the spiritual buddies I practically grew up with, I realized that, in productivity-focused cultures like ours, creating a serene lifestyle where meditation can take place easefully can be even more daunting than establishing a regular meditation practice.

    Interestingly, workaholism doesn’t just refer to profitable activities relating to one’s livelihood. I have spoken to plenty of colleagues as well as clients who report a big drive to get things done.

    I have heard it called “activity addiction,” and a friend recently described her exhaustion predicament as having a “spiritual burnout.” She was meditating regularly and doing her self-growth activities, listening to inspiring podcasts, and participating in profound spiritual workshops, and she found herself exhausted and confused by all the excessive input.

    These are not just personal dilemmas. If we mix a cocktail of modern economies, digital overload, FOMO-inducing social media, and the need for positive actions to mitigate some of the major social challenges of our times, even some of the most Zen among us might end up with some degree of an overloaded nervous system that finds it difficult to slow down and let go of activity.

    A friend once said that he used to meditate in order to live a peaceful life. And after many years of practice, he now lives a peaceful life in order to meditate.

    I now know that to maintain the calmness and ease of my treasured spiritual practices, I also need to live in a way that allows space for peace  to arise. It might seem like an obvious statement, but what happens in all those hours off of the cushion (at least twenty-three of them for most of us) has a major influence on the fruits of our meditation practice.

    Even though meditation can assist us in living healthy and active lifestyles, the common emphasis on increased productivity as a benefit might lead some of us to believe that meditation is an activity that we need to check off our to-do list in order to get more done.

    And even if we have the right attitude and understanding of meditation, when the hectic habit of constant activity predominates in our days, letting go of it and allowing for presence and insight might be a challenging process.

    My sense is that the direction of presence and stillness is where our being naturally seeks to go, as if it were our neurological mandate to turn to them. Or perhaps it is the other way around—presence and stillness organically seek to go in our direction, as if it were their mandate to manifest themselves in us.

    In that sense, meditation is not something that only happens when we focus our attention in formal meditation. That balance of the fine art of doing and not-doing, of effort and effortlessness, of striving and letting go, and of meditating in stillness and living a serene, genuine life has now become a more refined compass for my meditation practice.

    I still meditate daily (mostly), but I now make sure that I include a good bit of puttering around and slowing down into the rhythms of life.

    And, if I am honest, I would have to confess to missing my evening meditations once in a while for a good Netflix indulgence. I am not quite sure whether this will lead to a delay in me getting fully liberated, but it sure helps me to eventually close my eyes with more joy when I approach more formal practices.

  • Workaholics: Why Staying Busy Feels Safe and How It Takes a Toll

    Workaholics: Why Staying Busy Feels Safe and How It Takes a Toll

    “The ego desperately wants safety. The soul wants to live. The truth is, we cannot lead a real life without risk. We do not develop depth without pain.” ~Carol S. Pearson

    Workaholism is the body’s wisdom in action, literally.

    Some people develop workaholic tendencies because they crave to be seen as the best through their accomplishments.

    But I’m not here to talk about people who’re obsessed over their image.

    The particular strain of “workaholism” that isn’t talked about enough is a perfectionist’s addiction to productivity.

    It has little to do with being recognized for your brilliance or achievements in the outer world, and much more to do with your own unattainably high standards for yourself and others.

    It’s not about winning a shiny trophy at the end of the day so everyone will know you’re the real deal, but knowing that you’ve improved yourself, others, or the environment around you–even if it’s just neurotically reorganizing your closet.

    It’s knowing that you made the world a better place and that you didn’t cut any corners to get there.

    Whether it’s your career, community projects, or personal to-do lists that consume your everyday life, your addiction to activity is problematic for many reasons. Once you get a dose of completing a job, an impulsive urge to drown yourself in more activity immediately creeps in. Without it, you experience a profound sense of worthlessness.

    You struggle with accepting your work as it is, and your inner critic never settles for okay enough.

    This kind of “improvement” workaholism is about self-worth and a felt sense of safety. Because idleness feels unsafe in the body of a workaholic, non-activity is misconstrued as uselessness, which feels like a gaping hole in your beingness. The wisdom of a workaholic’s body knows that not creating, producing, or improving oneself or the environment is on par with being an unlovable sack of garbage.

    So your body keeps you busy.

    Addiction to activity shows up in myriad ways. Doing your coworker’s job for them because they’re not meeting your standards. Working long hours to perfect a project that you logically know doesn’t need to be perfect. Cleaning the house when it’s not dirty. Pouring more energy than is necessary into helping your kids with their homework. An inability to rest, relax, or experience pleasure unless it’s “earned”–and even then, it’s a fleeting and rare occurrence.

    When the Body Goes to War

    My workaholic perfectionism took a toll on my body starting in my mid-twenties. It’s common for people fixated on perfectionism and activity to chronically hold tension in their bodies. I was so armored in my muscles that I injured my neck from stiffness, leading to some of the worst pain I’ve ever had.

    I was living in rural Japan at the time. Desperate for help, I drove forty-five minutes through snowy conditions down a country road to see specialists who spoke no English, and to this day I have no idea what their area of specialty is called–I’ve never seen it anywhere else. But they treated me in their home on a regular basis to bring me the relief I needed to keep my sanity.

    And that was just the beginning.

    From that point onward, I continued to injure my neck several times a year. After returning to the U.S., I saw chiropractors, physical therapists, and massage therapists on a recurring basis. They certainly treated my symptoms, but I didn’t understand why I was so chronically rigid and injury-prone.

    And then came the injury that changed the course of my life.

    In my early thirties, I developed tendonitis and a repetitive motion injury in my right arm from using the computer in my office job. I worked hard, perfecting every task, email, and spreadsheet that came across my desk. I continued to hold tension in my body, and I rarely took breaks. Desperate to keep working despite the pain in my right arm, I compensated with my left arm and injured it too.

    Different parts of my body were at war with each other–one part guilting me to stay in the hustle cycle, another part sending smoke signals to get me to slow down and rest.

    I ended up on disability for eight months.

    I struggled to take care of myself. Bathing, cooking, cleaning, and doing laundry were no longer feasible. I could not hold open a book to read. It took months to be able to return to normal activities. For someone who’s historically been addicted to staying busy, it was a nightmare to not be able to work per doctor’s orders.

    Two years later, my doctors agreed that I have a permanent partial disability. I am no longer able to work in any eight-hour desk job. A throbbing hand reminds me when it’s time to rest, and now I know to listen.

    Sprinkled through my late twenties and early thirties I also experienced episodes of suicidal ideation and general depressive states. I felt profoundly worthless even though I had my dream job in a beautiful coastal town of California.

    My monkey mind was full of chatter. I fixated on how to feel better, but I was just clinging to the same old habits of endless mental and physical activity.

    Through that difficult passage of time, I believe my psyche was taking me down the dark path of individuation, the transformative process of integrating one’s unconscious and conscious mind-body.

    It’s everyone’s birthright to return to wholeness—a magical reunion of parts that were separated and abandoned in the process of childhood. I discovered that I had banished lazy self-indulgence deep into my shadow.

    Jungian depth psychology and pole dancing opened me up. I healed through embodied sensual movement, accessing my creative inner guidance, making time for spontaneous play with no agenda, and finding peace in my deep stillness.

    Today I move with ease in my body. I find pleasure in places where I could not before. I know how to be in my deep stillness, and I have what feels like true, sustainable joy.

    It doesn’t mean I never slip into old habits. In fact, I still find new iterations of old patterns as I move through life, but I know how to work through them. It’s become my superpower.

    The Unconscious Driver in Your Mind and Body

    Often, we glorify hard work, refusing to admit the destruction it does to our minds and body when it’s become a habit.

    Many workaholics see their patterns as justified, always armed with a list of reasons why they must deliver the much-needed improvement or task despite the obvious sacrifices being made. They do not respond well to being told that they need to slow down or prioritize their well-being.

    Best case scenario, they agree that they work too hard but don’t know how to be any other way.

    If this resonates, maybe you beat yourself up for not being more present with yourself or your loved ones. And maybe you have a tendency to be your own worst critic due to your sky-high internal standards, so you’re particularly sensitive to critical feedback from others.

    The good news is that there’s nothing “wrong” with you. You’re not a bad person because you’re too busy to show up for others. You’re not a self-sabotaging idiot because you worked so hard that you injured yourself. You’re not broken because you can’t sit still.

    Just like any other addiction, workaholism is a coping strategy.

    Workaholism is a learned behavior that serves to protect you from feeling the pain and discomfort of being completely tuned in to your deep stillness without the activity. A work-oriented perfectionist unconsciously harbors a belief that they’re unworthy unless they’re busy fixing themselves or the world.

    Your workaholic tendencies have an incredible intelligence. Your body is brilliant, much more than your conscious mind and ego-persona, which think they know better. But they’re vastly mistaken.

    Five percent of your cognitive activity is conscious and the other 95% is unconscious.

    The 95% largely drives your actions, non-actions, urges, and beliefs. Your endless activity isn’t coming from your conscious thinking mind. You might be convinced that your sheer willpower and self-discipline are the reasons you’re so productive. But that’s simply not the case. You’re the result of unconscious conditioned patterns that influence your behavior in the world.

    If that isn’t humbling, then I don’t know what is.

    The urge to work longer and harder than is good for you is a felt sense in your body. Your impulses—if you pay really close attention—are a reaction to not wanting to feel a certain way. Ultimately, it’s to avoid the discomfort of being fully present to your perceived worthlessness in the midst of being idle, non-productive, and undisciplined.

    It’s so sneaky that you often never feel the first dose of discomfort because your body is so well programmed to keep you busy that it knows exactly how to keep you from feeling like a useless waste of space.

    Your body in its wholeness is so much smarter than your tiny fraction of conscious thoughts.

    It’s not your fault that you’ve never learned how to be any other way. It’s not your fault that most therapists, mentors, educators, and caregivers have no clue how to actually help you change your patterns.

    The great news is that you can change. Your mind-body is not permanently wired this way.

    Science and many different proven techniques tell us how we can change ourselves in ways that seem unimaginable. Unfortunately, these methods lag behind in formal education and the knowledge base of many healers. But, there are many entry points to working with your mind and body to transform how you show up.

    Mind-Body Practice

    While it’s not your fault that you’ve been conditioned to stay perpetually busy, it is your responsibility to do the inner work if you want to enjoy life as your best self who doesn’t need to work to feel worthy.

    If you have a conditioned tendency to avoid stillness because your body misconstrues it as dangerous, then you have to prove to yourself that endless activity is not the way to live fully in your pleasure, presence, and peace.

    Partner with your body and get lovingly curious about yourself.

    The precise activity that you avoid most, idleness, is one way to get acquainted with your inherent, non-negotiable worthiness. This will inevitably dredge up anxiety, depression, and other uncomfortable feelings.

    Learn to be in touch with what you’re feeling in your body, known as interoception. This alone is a practice that will pay you back tenfold in overall well-being, decision-making, and trusting your inner guidance.

    Observe where you’re holding any physical tension. Pay attention to places where discomfort begins to stir and notice what your first impulse is. Often, the urges that arise have a positive intention of squashing the discomfort. For someone with workaholism, that urge is productive activity.

    The body is excellent at reacting at warp speed to these signs of discomfort. Notice where the unease is showing up in your body and develop a practice of sitting with it–another practice that’s worth learning if you want to take the risk of being a human in a world of uncertainties. The treasures of life are found in the unknown.

    Over time, you will learn when your activity is exiting the healthy, productive realm and entering the unhealthy, self-sacrificing realm–so you can intervene.

    You’re incredibly capable of healing and changing your life. You’re not broken, no matter what your struggles are. Trust me, every practice I preach is one that I’ve used to transform my own life.

    Remember that you’re a beautiful creature who’s learning to exist exactly as you are—magnificent, perfect, and worthy.

  • The Simplest Ways to Find Calm in the Middle of Life’s Constant Chaos

    The Simplest Ways to Find Calm in the Middle of Life’s Constant Chaos

    “When you are resting because you are worn out, you need to remember that you are not wasting time. You are doing exactly what you need to do. You are recovering.” ~Unknown

    I woke up at 3am when I heard my alarm ring. I slowly pulled my arm away from my son, who was half holding my arm and half lying on it, so that he didn’t wake up. I tip-toed out of bed while my husband and my son were sleeping.

    My eyes ached and were blurry from sleep deprivation. My head felt like I was floating in the air. But even so, I couldn’t sleep any longer.

    Knowing that just in a few hours, I would have another fully busy day at work, with deadlines all over my head, and I’d have to deal with all the mails marked “urgent” yesterday before getting to today’s mail.

    My sleepiness went away quickly as I started to feel butterflies in my stomach. Not in a good way.

    The deadlines, the rush and anxiety, all kicked in. I felt like I wanted to cry. And so I did a little.

    But I felt like I shouldn’t feel that way, that I should be grateful instead.

    The whole pandemic gave people hell. And I am so lucky that my family is safe, and we are doing fine.

    My husband could not work for six months, and I have been the sole provider since. But I am lucky that I still have a job.

    Compared with how other people go through their days, I should be grateful.

    But on a wild thought, I just wanted to open my laptop and send a resignation mail right away.

    Because I was tired.

    I was tired of being the sole provider.

    I was tired of trying and pushing so hard.

    I was tired of taking care of other people.

    I was tired of getting tired but not being able to sleep.

    I was tired of getting up so early alone.

    I was tired of working at different jobs all the time.

    I was tired of not getting enough breaks or not saying “screw it.”

    But I can’t. I have a family to take care of, I have a little boy to worry about.

    Being strong, being resilient is the only choice I have.

    So I turn on some music when feeling lonely, wipe my own tears when having a mental breakdown. Tell myself to stay strong, and always keep going forward.

    But today, I woke up and realized, I don’t have to feel that way.

    Life gives me responsibilities not to break me down. Responsibilities are the sublimation of love.

    Because of love, I wake up early and work while others are still sleeping.

    Because of love, I agree to do different jobs to be able to take care of my loved ones.

    Because of love, I need to take care of myself first.

    Because not only do I love them, but they also love me and want me to be happy.

    I realize I am not a superhero that never makes a mistake. I am a human being. I screw up sometimes. I oversleep sometimes. I miss deadlines sometimes. I act stupidly sometimes. I get lazy sometimes.

    And it is okay.

    It is okay for me to slow down and take a deep breath.

    It is okay to take a break so that I don’t get burnt out.

    It is okay to make mistakes and say “I don’t know” with pride.

    It is okay to know that I cannot control every single aspect in my life, and the good thing is I don’t have to.

    Because that’s how unexpected things happen. That’s the fun of life.

    And I know there is always a place that I belong and find peace: my home, my family, my heart.

    If you are like me, feeling the world is fighting against you, here are a few simple ways to find calm in the chaos.

    1. Stop what you are doing and take a deep breath.

    I learned this technique through one of Louise Hay’s books. You take a deep breath, tense your body as hard as you can, and hold it for a few seconds. Then release and exhale.

    Do it a few times whenever you feel worried or stressed. The butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling quickly dissolves.

    2. Find a peaceful place.

    No, you don’t have to call your boss to ask for an immediate vacation on a beach, nor do you have to go to the bathroom and cry (though you can do either if you think it would help).

    Look inside yourself and find your peaceful place—or person.

    Who do you love? Who do you do this for? Remember, responsibility is the sublimation of love.

    When I’m at work and I am about to have a panic attack, after taking a few deep breaths, I pull out my son’s videos and pictures. I remind myself that I love him, and he loves me no matter what.

    He gives me a reason to believe that I am worthy and I am loved and gives me the strength and motivation to keep going.

    3. Meditate daily, even just for five minutes.

    I learned that meditation is not about clearing your mind and thinking of nothing; it is about accepting who you are and not letting your wild thoughts control you.

    Don’t worry about learning how to meditate, just sit down in stillness as an act of love for yourself. Be present, aware of your thoughts.

    You will soon realize that meditation helps to untangle your thoughts so you don’t feel controlled by the chaos in your life.

    4. Thank yourself.

    Have you done it today? Have you thanked yourself for all the good you do and stopped to think about how proud of yourself you are?

    Look at how amazing you are taking care of your loved ones, how their lives are much better because of you, or how brave you are in all the things you do, or even how you are aware of this moment. There are thousands of reasons to be proud of yourself.

    Most of us focus more on what we think we’re doing wrong than all the things we’re doing right, and this creates a constant sense of anxiety. If you give yourself a little credit instead, you’ll likely feel instant relief. So remember to thank yourself at every chance you get.

    —

    When life gets busy and overwhelming, it’s tempting to think you can’t relax until everything gets easier. That you need to escape or make it all stop, which generally isn’t an option. Fortunately, we don’t have to make major life changes or run away to find a little peace.

    Calm is not when you are at the beach enjoying a drink. Calm is right there in the middle of the storm. Calm is in your heart.

  • We Are More Than What We Do for Work

    We Are More Than What We Do for Work

    Workaholic

    “I’ve learned that making a living is not the same things as making a life.” ~Maya Angelou

    My friend Nick and I were talking one day about our plans for after graduation. We talked about marriage and whether our religious beliefs would factor into our weddings when the time came, or whether our mothers would just run the whole show. Then the question came that grounded me.

    “Do you think that you’ll be a workaholic?” Nick asked.

    I chuckled and said I could practically guarantee it, as workaholism has always been part of my identity—and a proud part, at that. Nick then followed my response by saying, “You know, it’s worse than alcoholism.”

    After laughing off the comment, he continued to make his point. He expressed how he had seen it destroy families and lives. He finished with how it can even be spirit crushing, as the individual loses their sense of passion and uses work to fuel their addiction.

    Although I firmly believe that Nick was misguided in the brevity of his statement, he did have a point.

    Being a workaholic is a problem. It can destroy relationships with those you care about, as well as your body through health issues that accompany stress and overuse, and even your spirit through soul crushing tasks and long hours.

    What seemed like an offhand comment really struck me, and at a good time too, as I was graduating from college and about to start my first adult job.

    I took a little time after Nick left that evening to reflect on my relationship with work and how it had almost become synonymous with my identity over the years.

    In the culture of the United States, it almost seems like what we do is actually who we are. After all, there are many jobs that you can’t turn off, such as being a doctor or a mother—jobs where you’re always on-call.

    And tied with that, so many people have a burning desire to be successful and good at what they do, which seems to involve throwing yourself into your occupation full force.

    When people strive for success in what they do and do not strive for balance, workaholics are created.

    My number one goal has always been to be successful, which I defined as having a steady, challenging, well-paying career. Although my family and friends are important to me, I often put them on the backburner, putting my career and goals ahead of them.

    Reflecting back on Nick’s comment, I have begun to realize how much work has hindered my close relationships. And it has slowly but surely crushed the spirit of those close to me that have workaholic traits. Sometimes they seem so worn down that they appear to have lost their identity and passion.

    I now know that I don’t want to be a shell of a person. I know that there are more important things and that I want to live a full and balanced life, with varied interests and strong relationships. This epiphany-inspired reflection could not have come at a better time in my life.

    As I get ready to start my first real job in the upcoming weeks, I will remember these four things, which I believe anyone can do to have a more fulfilling and balanced life.

    1. Know yourself and your limitations.

    I know myself and I know that work will be a large part of my life because it is a core part of who I am. However, I will remember that, although I want to be successful, I need to maintain balance my life. This means that I will go in and stay for my shift and work hard, but I will not burn myself out.

    I will understand that my health and wellness are an important part of who I am and that, without proper health and wellness, I cannot act as the best employee that I can be.

    2. Focus on overall healthy decisions, mentally and physically.

    In the upcoming weeks as I start my new position, I will focus on health and wellness outside of work. I’ll make overall healthy decisions, not solely working out, but taking the time to relax and re-energize at the end of a long day.

    I will also focus on my mental and relational health by making time for my family and friends and by sharing fun activities with them that help balance me out.

    3. Foster high priority relationships.

    As I get older and progress further in my career, I, like many others, will become constrained by time and resources. In order to maintain the delicate work-life balance that I am striving for, I will take time to foster relationships that matter to build a support system.

    When the time comes and you need a helping hand, your support network will be strong enough to get you through the tough times.

    4. Remember that who you are, not what you do, makes you special.

    Just being me makes me special, and a valuable asset to both my family and friends. Who I am also plays into my career, as it designates my goals and achievements, but I am a multidimensional person with thoughts, beliefs, and interests outside of my employment status, and so are you.

    —

    The key to making all of these four thoughts and reflections a reality is balance. I now know that I need to make time to not only work, but to play as well. I need to know myself, and how I handle relationships, and make them a priority.

    These tips will help guide my life and decisions, as I hope they will guide yours, as well.

    Workaholic image via Shutterstock