Tiny Buddha

Tag: worry

  • How To Calm Your Worries by Admitting What You Don’t Know

    How To Calm Your Worries by Admitting What You Don’t Know

    Woman Arms Up

    “Most things I worry about never happen anyway.” ~Tom Petty

    There was once a wise farmer who had tended his farm for many years. One day his horse unexpectedly ran away into the mountains. Upon hearing the news, the farmer’s neighbors came to visit. 

    “How terrible,” they told him.

    “We’ll see,” the wise farmer replied.

    The next morning, to the farmer’s surprise, the horse returned, bringing with it three wild horses.

    “How wonderful. You are very lucky,” the neighbors exclaimed.

    “We’ll see,” replied the farmer.

    The following day, the farmer’s son tried to ride one of the wild horses. The horse was untamed and the boy was thrown and fell hard, breaking his leg. 

    “How sad,” the neighbors said, offering sympathy for the farmer’s misfortune.

    “We’ll see,” answered the farmer.

    The next day, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son’s leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out.

    “We’ll see,” the farmer said.

    This Zen story demonstrates the wisdom of not jumping to conclusions. Have you ever worried about something, only to later discover that your worry was unfounded and untrue? The ego is afraid of the unknown, so it jumps to conclusions in order to feel a sense of certainty.

    In our ego’s need for certainty, we make assumptions. And when we make assumptions, we make mistakes.

    We can never know how the future will unfold. Yet fear convinces us to believe in present circumstances and future outcomes that are totally untrue. This is the origin of worry. Worry is the ego’s way of satisfying itself with an answer—any answer, no matter how irrational it is.

    I worry about many things, big and small. I worry about getting stuck in my career, being rejected in my relationships, not having enough money, and whether or not I will miss the next subway into Manhattan.

    But worry is dangerous. When we worry, we make mistakes. For example, I might make an assumption about you, such as thinking you are angry with me. Then I act on this assumption.

    The false premise of my actions causes me to become defensive. My actions then cause you to make an assumption about me. Since you are unable to see that I am trying to protect myself, you assume I am angry with you.

    Soon we are engaged in mutual anger based on a false assumption caused by worry.

    The truth is, I will never know fully what is in your head, and you will never know fully what is in mine. Therefore, acting under the ignorance of assumption creates a ripple effect of mistakes.

    Imagination + Fear = Worry

    It is common in our society to believe that more thinking is always better. This is not always so. Intelligence is an incredible tool, but over-thinking can be just as harmful as under-thinking. Over-thinking is a sickness that creates paranoia and worry.

    When we over-think, we make up scenarios in our mind and convince ourselves that these scenarios are true.

    Without enough data to make a proper assessment of a situation, our ego hijacks our imagination and jumps to fear-based assumptions. Imagination is usually a powerful creative force, but when imagination is applied with fear, it becomes worry.

    The Universe works in mysterious ways. Embracing the mystery of life gives us a calm within the storm of uncertainty.

    Instead of over-thinking and jumping to false conclusions, learn to relax your thoughts and say, “I don’t know.”

    Trusting uncertainty gives us peace and confidence; and when we wait in stillness without the need for an answer, the truth will reveal itself. The end of fearing the unknown is the end of worry.

    Worry is wishing for what you don’t want.

    Thoughts are magnets that attract our reality. Peaceful thoughts create a peaceful reality. Fearful thoughts create a fearful reality.

    A thought repeated on a regular basis becomes a habit. When a thought becomes a habit, it forms a belief. When a thought forms a belief, it attracts external events that align with your internal state.

    Energy flows where attention goes. When you focus on what you want, it is more likely to come to pass. When you focus on what you do not want, it is more likely to come to pass. When you worry, you send a signal into the Universe that attracts your worry. Your focus over time forms your future.

    Will a single thought of worry cause your worry to come true? Probably not. Will sustaining your worry with attention and focus over a long period of time attract the worry into your life? The more you focus, the more likely it becomes.

    Because focus forms your future, it is important to only concentrate on thoughts you want to actualize.

    Your reality grows from the seeds you plant. The seeds of your beliefs grow into your thoughts. The seeds of your thoughts grow into your actions. The seeds of your actions grow into your karma.

    You are responsible for the seeds you plant, not the results. When you place your attention on the present moment, without attachment to the past or worry about the future, and plant seeds according to your highest intentions, the results will fall into place.

    Worry is an irrational attachment to, or fear of, a specific result. While it sounds counterintuitive, the only way you can achieve a desired result is by not focusing on the result; you must focus on your effort—here and now.

    You cannot change what is already growing. Instead, start planting different seeds.

    We’ll see.

    I still worry. But now, whenever my ego gives me something to worry about, I take a deep breath and meditate in silence for a moment.

    I sit in stillness and reassure myself. “I don’t have enough data to understand how this event will impact my future,” I say. “Perhaps there is a plan in place that I cannot see. I don’t know what will happen next and that is perfectly okay. I will not jump to conclusions. Let’s wait and see what happens.”

    Woman and the sky image via Shutterstock

  • A 60-Second Practice That Will Help You Find Peace and Relaxation

    A 60-Second Practice That Will Help You Find Peace and Relaxation

    “The present moment is filled with joy and happiness. If you are attentive, you will see it.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh 

    A while back, someone very dear to me entered intensive care. He’s someone I’ve learned so much from, and yet never met. I’ve read dozens of his books, both listened to and watched countless lectures, as well as been inspired to study Zen because of him.

    On Friday, November 14th, after suffering a brain hemorrhage, Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese Zen master and peace activist, went into a coma. For the past few weeks, Thay, as his students call him (teacher in Vietnamese), had visited the hospital on a few occasions due to a decline in his health.

    At the age of eighty-eight, he’s lived a long and amazing life.

    He’s considered one of the two foremost Buddhist teachers in the world, next to the Dalai Lama, and was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize by Martin Luther King, Jr. himself. Now, he and his loving community must work to help heal the damage and hope that he can make a full recovery.

    I was inspired to write something about Nhat Hanh, who helped me overcome my own anxiety when I was overwhelmed after the birth of my first son. I didn’t know how to pay rent and support my family, and closing in on thirty without having accomplished anything of value in my life, I felt like a failure who was quickly running out of time.

    At Plum Village, Thich Nhat Hanh’s monastery in France, a bell sounds at various moments in the day. The bell is used to notify the monks, nuns, and other visitors of important events, such as the beginning of meditation sessions, lectures, and mealtime.

    But it’s also used for another reason. Any time the bell sounds, literally every waking soul at Plum Village stops. They all just… stop. And in that moment, while the bell sounds, they practice mindful breathing.

    Every monk, nun, and visitor breathes in with mindfulness and breathes out with mindfulness. This is the practice of “going home,” and it’s the practice of reuniting mind and body as one in order to find peace within ourselves.

    The way most of us live our lives, we’re halfway in our heads, bouncing around in an endless stream of thoughts, and halfway in the present moment, only partially awake to what we’re doing.

    This state of semi-consciousness, or mind dispersion, is a state where we’re unable to attain complete rest, our minds are perpetually clouded, we build up stress and anxiety, and we shut off our own source of creativity. In this state, we can never find peace or complete relaxation.

    This semi-conscious state, or mind dispersion, is what the Buddha often referred to as our “monkey mind.”

    Our monkey mind is constantly bouncing from one thought to another. We’re doing one thing (body) but thinking about another (mind).

    You’re driving home from work while you’re thinking about work, and then bills, and then dinner, and then that dinner date with your old friend coming up, and then your daughter’s school project, and then whatever happened to your favorite band because they seemed to drop off the map, and then “When was that TV special again?”

    Then you think about work again, oh and then that sounds good for dinner, and then you look in your overhead mirror and think, “I look tired today,” and then a Sit-And-Sleep commercial for some reason pops into your head and so you start thinking about how you really should get a new mattress soon, and then you think about home again and how the day is passing so quickly, and then…it never ends.

    Mindfulness delicately brings the mind to rest and reunites body and mind as one force.

    When you walk to work, you’re walking to work, and you’re enjoying the walk with all of your being. You’re not thinking about what’s for dinner or what you’ll say to your boss about that project when you get into the office while walking.

    Your body is walking and your mind is at rest. When you drive home, you know you’re driving. You’re not letting yourself be distracted by the passing billboard advertisements or thinking about your overdue bills.

    You’re truly enjoying the drive home in peace and quiet. When you’re sitting down to play with your children, you’re fully present for them, giving them your complete and undivided attention. When you live with mindfulness you’re able to truly appreciate the presence of your loved ones.

    We can use the same principle of the bell used at Plum Village to find peace and relaxation in our everyday lives. By setting up simple alarm reminders on your phone or posting signs on the walls of your bedroom, restroom, or office, you can create your own “bell of mindfulness.”

    Set an alarm.

    Set an alarm to go off every hour, two hours, three hours, or whatever is comfortable for you. (I do once every hour.) Plan to just sit and be completely aware of your breathing for about one minute every time the alarm goes off. It’s just one minute, so it’s easy to fit it into your daily schedule.

    Stop and breathe mindfully.

    Every time the bell goes off, I imagine the bell sounding at Plum Village. No matter where I am, I transport myself to a place of peace and quiet.

    When this bell sounds, everything stops. I don’t listen to the excuses I try to give myself about “Oh, let me just finish this one thing,” or, “I’ll get to that in just a minute,” I stop everything and just breathe mindfully.

    No matter where I am, I stop. If I’m not comfortable, I immediately go somewhere that I am. Just breathe. Let this be your daily vacation time.

    No matter where you are, for one minute every hour you’re transported to a place where you can find peace and tranquility. When you come back you’ll feel refreshed and ready to tackle anything.

    Or, use signs.

    Toward that same end, you can also post physical signs that you type or handwrite and place them on the wall of rooms you walk into every day, such as your restroom, kitchen, office, and even your car. You can write or draw whatever you want on it as long as it reminds you to be mindful during your daily life.

    For instance, you could have a poster or sign that symbolizes breathing meditation in your bedroom that sits on the back of your door. This way, each time you walk out of your bedroom in the morning, you’re reminded to stop and breathe mindfully for a moment before exiting.

    If you tend to rush around at the office and build up most of your stress and anxiety there, you can place one on the back of your office door or laminate and place a small one on the surface of your desk.

    It doesn’t matter what you use, as long as it reminds you to be mindful throughout your day and helps you find peace and joy in the present moment. Use the bell of mindfulness to ground yourself to the present moment, and find peace and joy in each and every day.

  • How to Stop Fearing the Worst and Worrying About “What Ifs”

    How to Stop Fearing the Worst and Worrying About “What Ifs”

    “Our anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its sorrows, but only empties today of its strengths.” ~Charles H. Spurgeon

    There’s nothing like a real health emergency for putting insignificant worries into perspective.

    By the time I was pregnant the second time, I had left my struggles with anxiety largely behind me. Having been to therapy years earlier to find coping mechanisms for managing my ever-present phobias, I was in a fairly good place when I learned I’d been given a second chance at having a child.

    But worry is as much as part of me as breathing, and having lost a pregnancy the year prior, I spent the first eight to ten weeks of the second one constantly preoccupied with the what-ifs that tend to haunt anxiety sufferers, even reformed ones like me.

    One day in week forty, after many hours of irregular contractions, something told me I needed to check myself into the hospital. It was a different feeling than the one I’d experienced during my panic attacks, which was always induced by the fight or flight response.

    It was calmer, and felt more peaceful. So I listened.

    Once I got there, the midwives discovered my blood pressure was 200/110 (stroke territory). I was in the middle of a hypertensive crisis caused by undiagnosed pre-eclampsia—a dangerous condition that affects a small percentage of pregnant women worldwide.

    They admitted me immediately, and a scene from an emergency room TV drama ensued. Machines screamed. Nurses ran. Doctors were paged. IV’s were administered.

    Between waves of doctors and nurses I learned that if they didn’t succeed in getting my blood pressure down soon, I could seize, stroke out, or suffer irreparable damage to my liver and kidneys.

    To further complicate matters, my son was starting to show some signs of distress, and I got the sense from the folks in scrubs around my bedside that they weren’t quite sure how to manage it.

    Through it all I remained surprisingly calm, somehow at peace with what was happening around me, despite the many hours I’d spent worrying about just such an event in the past. I felt saddened by the possibility of dying—or worse, losing my son—but not panicked or afraid.

    When my son was born, healthy and strong by emergency C-section, then I truly understood the futility of my past concern.

    Having survived the incident unscathed, I spent the next six years of my life working on building the skills that keep the time-suck that is anxiety from ever coming back.

    If I had to tell my past self something I’ve learned to prevent unnecessary suffering, it would go something like this:

    Don’t argue with a fool. (People may not know the difference).

    One piece of advice for anxiety sufferers I read and hear often is to take a deep breath and reassure yourself that you are safe, your anxiety can’t hurt you, and your fears are all in your head.

    Anxiety is irrational, and no amount of rational thinking will banish unnecessary worry or anxious thoughts. In fact, trying to fight irrational thinking with logic can be counterproductive and lead you down the rabbit hole of self-doubt.

    Instead, respond to irrational fears by accepting that there is a (however remote) possibility that what you fear may come to pass, but also trust that if it does, you will have the tools to manage it.

    Don’t ask others to argue with a fool.

    Mental illness is tough, and having support from friends and family is key to making it through unscathed to the other side.

    Asking your friends and families to tell you why your fears are unfounded and your worries are irrational is not asking for help—it’s asking for validation.

    Many of us suffering through anxiety believe that if we can’t trust our own logical arguments for why everything is going to be okay, maybe someone else can make it okay for us.

    This kind of behavior often serves to undermine your self-confidence and create codependent tendencies, since you’re relying (most often very ineffectively) on others to manage your anxiety for you.

    Find a more productive focal point.

    A few years before my pregnancy, when I was first treated for anxiety, my therapist taught me a trick I carry with me to this day.

    Anxiety needs a focal point, but with a little sleight of hand you can find one that is less disturbing than your worry.

    When embarking on a trip to Cabo for my friend’s wedding (I’m afraid to fly), she told me to wear the most uncomfortable outfit I could tolerate for the flight. I chose a tight, itchy strapless corset, and spent a good nine hours trying to fight the garment’s pinch.

    Guess what I wasn’t doing, though, while cursing my existence? Worrying about plane crashes.

    Over time, I’ve found many other tools to help me stay present and banish unnecessary concerns. If I have a legitimate worry, I take action to mitigate risks and try to move on with my life.

    If there’s nothing I can do, I occupy my mind with something else. I practice yoga. I wear itchy underwear. Most of all I trust. I trust that I can deal with any unexpected hurdles life might throw my way.

    And if for some reason I encounter one I can’t manage, it simply was meant to be, whether it’s what I want for my life or not.

    And then I move on and enjoy the moment. Or at least I try, anyway.

  • 7 Ways to Live a Less Fearful, More Peaceful Life

    7 Ways to Live a Less Fearful, More Peaceful Life

    Peaceful Man

    “We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when adults are afraid of the light.” ~Adapted from Plato

    I was digging in my half-empty refrigerator one day, searching for leftovers, when my phone rang. I glared at it wondering who the hell had the nerve to interrupt my hunt for sustenance.

    I grabbed the phone with pure agitation and put it to my ear. On the other end of the line I heard a faint voice mutter the three most unforgettable words I had ever heard: “Dad is gone.”

    The faint voice belonged to my stepmom Rose. She told me that dad was headed for surgery that morning when he had a massive heart attack. She said that he sprang up in bed and reached out to her with his eyes stretched open in terror. And that was it. He was gone.

    As an anxious twenty-two-year-old, suffering wasn’t new to me, but this was different. It wasn’t long after my dad died that I spiraled into daily panic attacks and became a whimpering victim of anxiety.

    We all encounter fear sometimes—it’s normal. But I did it all wrong. I let it control my life. After my dad passed away, my days were usually filled with uncertainty, self-doubt, and misery.

    I later wondered if the same fate awaited me, to the point where I developed all kinds of phobias: health phobia, social phobia, and a crushing fear of death. I was truly lost.

    Fear became my new normal. I allowed my negative thoughts to shape my reality. I stopped believing in myself, in other people, in the future; all of it seemed meaningless.

    Over the years I struggled to tame my fears, and if I’m being totally honest, on some days I still struggle. The good news is that I don’t stay stuck like I used to.

    I’ve learned to understand my fears for what they really are, rather than what I imagine them to be. And I live with less fear every day because of seven rock solid tips that I learned after losing my dad.

    1. Relax.

    When we are fearful, we get tense without even knowing it. Learning how to let go of tension was a key factor in my recovery from fear and anxiety.

    I learned progressive muscle relaxation exercises and practiced daily. I learned that making peace with your body is a great way to make peace with your mind.

    2. Find your inner observer.

    I had no idea that I had one, but there is a part of the mind that is able to observe thoughts without judgment or expectation. Getting in touch with your inner observer weakens the power of fear and reduces “what if” thinking.

    Meditation is hands down one of the best ways to train yourself to identify and strengthen this part of your mind.

    3. Reframe.

    Words are powerful. The ones you use to describe life and all its challenges will not change what happens to you, but it can change how you feel about it.

    Instead of obsessing over my “palpitations,” I reframed this as “I’m nervous.” Reframing helped me to form positive perspectives about all kinds of stuff.

    4. Be mindful.

    When I was really anxious I lived in the past or the future. I totally forgot about living my life in the present. Take the time to enjoy today.

    5. Connect.

    Fear has a way of isolating us from ourselves and others. But it’s important to remember that connecting with other people is a vital part of a healthy life. Reach out!

    6. Challenge your fears.

    Do you want to know how absurd fear can be? I used to fear soft drinks! Well, actually, I was afraid of caffeine, but seriously. Challenging your fears builds self-confidence and over time ensures that you get to live the full version of your life.

    7. Be kind to yourself.

    There is a 100% chance that things won’t always go your way, including being afraid when you don’t want to be. Don’t punish yourself for being “stupid” or “weak,” though. It’s okay to be afraid sometimes. The question is: What are you going to do when fear comes to your doorstep?

    When I’d get anxious, it was because I didn’t believe that I had what I needed to be okay. But the truth is that we all do—somehow, someway, we always do.

    And therein lies the “secret” to living with less fear: the realization that you do have the means to weather any storm. That you are stronger than you give yourself credit for.

    Peaceful man image via Shutterstock

  • Worry Is…

    Worry Is…

    Worry Is a Waste of Time

  • Why Uncertainty Isn’t So Bad and How to Embrace It

    Why Uncertainty Isn’t So Bad and How to Embrace It

    Uncertainty

    “Trust the wait. Embrace the uncertainty. Enjoy the beauty of becoming. When nothing is certain, anything is possible.” ~Mandy Hale

    Sitting in the auditorium during orientation, I listened to various deans, distinguished alumni, and student leaders drone on about the rigors of earning a law degree.

    There were obligatory mentions of not everyone making it to graduation (or even the end of the first week) and of the intense strain on personal relationships.

    But the message I remembered most clearly was about uncertainty.

    “You better get comfortable with gray areas. And fast. Because the legal field is not a place where black and white distinctions often exist. If you’re a person who thrives on certainty and absolutes, you will be an extremely frustrated attorney.”

    Being a comparative religion and psychology double major, I dealt with ambiguity and the unknown a fair amount. But I wouldn’t say I was comfortable with them.

    I mean, is anyone really comfortable with uncertainty?

    And with that superficial examination of my tolerance for uncertainty, I trudged onward to lawyerhood.

    Unfortunately, I was decidedly uncomfortable with uncertainty.

    Although I always wanted to become an attorney, it was a relatively uninformed desire. But it gave me a goal to work toward—a path to freedom and financial independence beyond high school and college.

    Or so I thought.

    I dreaded going to class. I even contemplated dropping out. A lot.

    I worried that I’d lost my academic edge.

    For the first time in my life, I didn’t always have the answers when questioned by professors. I wasn’t engaged by the subject matter either. So I procrastinated, which made everything worse.

    Looking back, it’s clear I was in denial.

    I couldn’t even entertain the idea that law school wasn’t for me, let alone accept that I may be better suited to a different career. You know, admit that I had made a hugely expensive mistake, cut my losses and start over from scratch.

    So I did what any self-respecting high-achiever would do: I threw myself into my studies and made damn sure I landed a job after graduation.

    In other words, I did whatever I could to avoid the appearance of failure.

    Which meant I was a complete and utter control freak. And by control freak, I mean high-strung hypercritical crabby pants.

    (I’m sure I was an absolute delight to behold.)

    It seems crazy to me now that it took three agonizing years of law school, seven miserable years as an attorney, a diagnosis of generalized anxiety disorder, and a two-year battle with infertility to get me to realize that uncertainty is the only true certainty in life.

    Did I really need all that time and heartache to accept this universal truth?

    Apparently, I did. The religion scholar in me shakes her head.

    And even though I was finally able to acknowledge the omnipresence of uncertainty, I wasn’t immediately able to embrace it.

    It took a lot of yoga, meditation, acupuncture, psychiatry, and life coaching for me to see that I hadn’t ever escaped the discomfort of uncertainty. Despite my best efforts.

    I busted my butt in law school and landed a job offer before graduation, which was rescinded when the organization lost funding for my position.

    I planned out future pregnancies assuming I was a fertile myrtle like all the other women in my family, who didn’t have the rare birth defects I had.

    I slogged through my legal career thinking after “paying my dues” and earning six figures I’d finally enjoy my profession, only to feel more and more hopeless every day.

    And those are just some ways uncertainty bested me over the last decade.

    But thanks to the luxury of hindsight, I grew to embrace the inevitability of uncertainty, and the fruitlessness of trying to elude it.

    Yes, I had the rug pulled out from under me when my first job offer fell through. But I found a higher paying job within weeks of graduation, where I met my mentor and some of my dearest friends.

    Yes, I endured the agony of infertility for two years. But after corrective surgeries (that also improved my overall health), I became pregnant with a baby girl who has brought exponentially more sleep-deprivation joy into my life than all the despair caused by those years of infertility.

    And, yes, my childhood “dream” of becoming an attorney turned out to be a nightmare. But like a bad dream, I finally woke up and realized it wasn’t my future.

    Although my current career didn’t exist when I was a kid, I have a feeling that even if it did I wouldn’t have found it by following a structured path.

    Because uncertainty is not only inevitable, it’s necessary.

    If we really were able to control every outcome in our lives, we’d most likely never experience failure. Or be forced outside our comfort zone. Or discover something previously unknown to us (or the world!) by way of happy accidents.

    We’d never truly grow.

    So now when I feel the urge to control all the things, I do what sounds incredibly simple to most, but has always been difficult for me.

    I breathe.

    I realize “breathing” isn’t what most people want to hear. But learning to slow down and focus on my breath has been life changing.

    Plus, it’s science.

    I catch myself holding my breath all the time. When I feel the need to check in with my breath, odds are it’s because my body is tense from oxygen deficit.

    Our brains need oxygen to think clearly. And without sufficient oxygen, the brain goes into fight-or-flight mode. All too often my battlefield is the supermarket or a blog post—situations in which breath is preferable to adrenaline.

    And while I am an advocate for mindful breathing in times of uncertainty, I’m not saying it’s a cure-all for everyone in every situation. But you know what is?

    Again, it’s science. Studies show that regularly expressing gratitude increases feelings of happiness and well-being.

    I admit I was skeptical when I first learned about gratitude practice as a way to boost happiness. Especially since it advocates keeping a gratitude journal.

    I am such a resistant journaler. Which is strange because I’ve gained some incredible insights into my psyche through journaling. (Okay, maybe it’s not so much strange, as it is the very reason I resist journaling. Note to self: Work through fear of journaling…through journaling.)

    Luckily, keeping a gratitude journal is nothing like the feelings poured onto page upon page that I imagined. At least, it doesn’t have to be.

    My only rule is that I need to write down at least five things for which I’m grateful each day. Some days it takes me ten seconds, others it’s more like ten minutes.

    But that’s the point.

    Those days when feeling thankful isn’t easy are the days you need gratitude the most.

    Someday you’ll probably be grateful for the struggle you’re in right now. But until then, maintaining a gratitude practice will ease the discomfort uncertainty brings.

    Even if it does involve a journal.

    I sometimes wonder how my life would be different today if someone at my law school orientation had outlined some practical ways of coping with uncertainty—like basic mindfulness—instead of characterizing an aversion to uncertainty as a personality flaw.

    Maybe I would have embraced the certainty of uncertainty sooner, possibly avoiding countless hours of heartache and anxiety. Perhaps I would’ve had the guts to drop out of law school and avoid a mountain of debt.

    Or maybe everything would have unfolded in exactly the same way.

    And you know what?

    I’m okay with that.

    Man walking image via Shutterstock

  • Surrendering to Things We Can’t Control or Change

    Surrendering to Things We Can’t Control or Change

    Surrender

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

    I’ve always sped through life. I’ve always been ready to take on the next moment, that new place, make a new memory.

    I’m an obsessive planner. I love control. Seriously, I love the feeling of researching and executing a plan flawlessly. It makes me feel like it’s all worth something, or it gives my life meaning. Nothing satisfies me more than being able to check that next “life goal” off the multiple checklists I create.

    This idea of getting to the next place and achieving as much success as possible in minimal amounts of time has taken over my life.

    I can’t tell you when it began. But I can tell you that this idea of getting to the next moment has consumed my life for at least the better half of ten years.

    I have never truly experienced a lasting sense of peace. I have the minimal moments of pure, carefree relief, sometimes while showering, swimming, or working out But these moments fade and I’m back to feeling anxious about what to do next.

    Even deciding what to make for breakfast sends my mind into a whirlwind of ifs and buts. What if I make this egg sandwich and then decided I wanted cereal instead? What if I drink too much water and where I’m headed for the day doesn’t have a lot of bathrooms?

    Seriously, these are concerns I wake up with every day. I feel ridiculous just writing them down, and trust me, only a few people are truly aware of how bad my anxiety really is.

    No, I’m not medicated. Maybe half of you think I should be after reading how outrageous my anxiety and obsessive need for control is.

    But if you met me, you would never know these thoughts race through my mind almost every second of everyday.

    People can appear happy go lucky, carefree, and spontaneous. But you never know what demons they are facing inside the confinement of their own thoughts and mind.

    It’s easier said than done, but in order to truly defeat anxiety and this obsessive need for control, we need to surrender. Just let it be. Don’t give up. Don’t sit in your house sending out messages to the universe that you want more money, a better job, or a bigger house.

    You need to wake up each day, do your best, and then accept that after you have done all you can, it’s up to the universe and not you to take on the rest.

    If you take the time to be present, the universe will reward you.

    1. Be fully involved in whatever you do.

    Put all your thought into whatever minimal task you are doing this very moment. It will help to center yourself and keep negative and outrageous thoughts and scenarios from coming into your mind.

    2. Stop trying to control everything.

    It makes me cringe to say these words. But you are not in control. Honestly, we are not. We create this false sense of control, but it’s not reality. We can only be responsible for our own thoughts and actions, so why not make them good ones?

    3. Look at the bigger picture.

    Is any of this going to matter? Okay, so sometimes that deadline and that big test do matter, but when you’re running five minutes late, is it really life or death? Stop beating yourself up. There is so much more to life.

    4. Be kind.

    And I’m not just saying to other people; be kind to yourself. If I treated any of my friends the way I treated and talked to myself, they would be running for the hills. (To be honest, my closest friends have been trying to run for years and haven’t succeeded—and that, my friends, is true love. Just kidding.)

    You can be your biggest critic or your biggest cheerleader. Always choose the cheerleader

    5. Accept.

    Accept yourself, accept others, and accept that the only way we truly leave a footprint on this world is when we impact and change others’ lives for the better.

    It’s easy to write these things down, and a heck of a lot harder to actually do any of them, but if we take the steps toward finding ourselves and surrendering to what we can’t change or control, I promise life will get a whole lot better.

    Surrender image via Shutterstock

  • What Worrying Does

    What Worrying Does

    What Worrying Does

    Source: Love of Life Quotes

  • Stop Worrying About What Other People Think and Be Yourself

    Stop Worrying About What Other People Think and Be Yourself

    Be Yourself

    “Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken.” ~Oscar Wilde

    Confession: I’m a master wallflower.

    In high school, a friend and I decided to skip our dreary computer class and roam the halls instead. The following day, our crabby teacher immediately reprimanded my friend for skipping class. I sat directly next to her, giggling and rubbing it in her face.

    The teacher didn’t even know my name, let alone that I had skipped his class the previous day. I rejoiced in my anonymity thinking, “It pays to be unknown.”

    To an extent, it was true. My friend was so disruptive and chatty that she couldn’t avoid trouble if her life depended on it. However, I didn’t just get away with things; I missed out on things.

    You can’t float through life anonymously. If you try, you’ll simply be dubbed as whatever people assume you are. (Spoiler alert: It’s usually inaccurate.) Sometimes you just have to be an active participant instead of an idle observer.

    The problem for me was that my needs always felt too obscure and alternative to everyone else’s.

    I attended a school where the teachers were keen on force-feeding us religious beliefs, which went against my need for tolerance and openmindedness. Thus I began to feel defensive expressing myself, assuming I’d be met with blank stares or opposition.

    Stop Tiptoeing

    You’d be hard-pressed to find a self-improvement resource without an encouraging reminder to “be yourself.” Why is that such a common struggle? What affects us so pervasively as we age, that remaining our “true selves” becomes a cryptic chore?

    Other people. We become more and more aware of other people: what they expect, what they want, what they think.

    Before you know it, that incredibly simple act of “being oneself” suddenly becomes a muddled minefield, where each person’s opinion of you is a potential explosion.

    So, it’s best to just tiptoe around, right?

    Not really. Being closed off is unsustainable, ineffective, and quite frankly, exhausting. It leaves you with a surplus of protection, but very little fulfillment and growth.

    Consider this liberating fact: You’re allowed to need things. You don’t have to apologize. It’s an obvious but effective reminder if you find yourself neglecting your needs.

    Some people only realize this after decades of failed tiptoeing, and sadly, some never realize it at all. But what does being yourself have to do with your needs? From my experience, when you don’t unveil your authentic self, you don’t get what you need.

    While others will occasionally know what’s best for us before we do, we’re often far more capable of deciding what we need. No matter how intelligent or well intentioned someone is, they may not understand what’s best for you.

    Assessing Your Needs

    Over time, I’ve realized that one of my greatest needs is good communication. When I’m detached and don’t have a solid circle of people to confide in, I get stressed very quickly.

    When our needs are fulfilled, we’re able to be who we are without restraints. Whether emotional or physical, our needs will make themselves known if we pay attention.

    1. Stop right now and think of something that you need and don’t have.

    It can’t be materialistic like a TV or a new purse, but something that the “real” you deeply needs. Maybe you’ve never even admitted it aloud to anyone, for fear they’d reject it or talk you out of it.

    2. Now give yourself complete permission to obtain whatever it is.

    If you’re anything like me, you may feel a peculiar weight being lifted from you—one that should’ve never been there in the first place.

    To assess yourself, just think of the people in your life who have achieved fulfillment. If you have any negative feelings like resentment or envy towards them, you’re probably not getting what you need. Otherwise, wouldn’t you be happy for them?

    Back to the Basics

    It’s hard for us to be our “true” selves because our true selves are innocent and vulnerable. Nowadays, vulnerability is about as fashionable as a fanny pack collection.

    We can edit photos of ourselves in Photoshop or post brief statuses about our lives that give the impression of flawlessness. We reject vulnerability in favor of impressions, making it harder for our authentic selves to emerge.

    As adults, it’s easy to let fear, anger, and sadness fill the hole of our unfulfilled needs. This can throw us off course, causing us to forget the original direction we once had in our youth. Thus, it’s primarily about piecing together the fragments, and as a wise baboon named Rafiki once said, “remembering who you are.”

    Being your authentic self doesn’t require you to add anything new to your life. It only requires you to subtract the things that are harmful, distracting, and unaligned with your goals.

    Your ability to be yourself is proportionate to how well you know yourself. For many of us, it may require a serious assessment and difficult decisions.

    In short, if your only reason for not achieving something is that other people won’t understand, that’s no reason at all. If what you want will help you grow, it’s your right and your responsibility to obtain it.

    Photo by Carlos Pantoja

  • Don’t Worry, Be Happy

    Don’t Worry, Be Happy

    Dont Worry

    Source

  • How to Get Out of Your Own Way and Let Your Life Shine

    How to Get Out of Your Own Way and Let Your Life Shine

    Shining Heart

    “I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.” ~Hafiz of Shiraz

    I have been on a quest to be happy for as long as I can remember.

    I thought I had looked everywhere. I tried relationships, work, adventure travels, and a life filled with friends and activity, but still I felt anxious. I was disenchanted with life. Years of therapy attempting to work out my problems didn’t give me the sense of peace I somehow thought was possible.

    I knew there had to be more, and I am delighted to tell you that I found it when I learned to get out of the way.

    The Power of Habits

    Without my realizing it, I had been caught up in habitual ways of thinking and feeling that dominated my everyday life. My mind went on endlessly with judgments, expectations, worries, resentments, and stories about what should and shouldn’t happen.

    And I had overlooked the feelings of fear and uneasiness that were running beneath the surface almost nonstop.

    Life was happening, but with a constant inner commentary about how things weren’t quite right. No wonder I wasn’t happy.

    Fast forward to now, and things are very different. No more useless worrying, regret, or getting caught in mental stories about other people or myself. Even my body has relaxed without that lurking agitation. Everything is so open, so fresh!

    And here’s what I discovered.

    Finding Freedom

    Getting out of the way means becoming very familiar with your inner world. You discover what you do that makes you suffer so you can choose peace instead.

    Amazingly, you realize that you can press pause in any moment and step back from the momentum of old, recycled habits.

    When you do, you see what is actually happening: the pain of being stuck in an old resentment that has been dragging you down, the constricting effect of believing your thoughts, and the chaos that comes from letting your feelings rule.

    With your eyes wide open, you are primed to live in ways that are intelligent, affirming, and aligned with your deepest desires. Finally, clarity arrives.

    Getting out of the way looks like this:

    Ask yourself, “In this moment, what do I really want to feel?”

    The answer connects you with your true intention to be happy, peaceful, and clear. Already, you are halfway to being free.

    Notice the thoughts and feelings that grab your attention.

    See how you get in the way of happiness. Do you live in a belief that you are inadequate? Do you tell yourself you are a victim of your past? Do you define yourself by sadness or fear? This is why you suffer.

    Befriend your experience by noting what is present, but know that it doesn’t have to control you.

    Just for now, don’t hold onto your stressful stories. Let your feelings be without acting on them. This is the most loving way you can be with yourself.

    Experience the space that remains when you are no longer hooked by thoughts and feelings.

    Even if only for a moment, you’ve discovered what it’s like to get out of the way. Here you are—whole and relaxed, ripe to enjoy yourself, to make wise decisions that come from love, not fear and limitation. You see that life can be so beautifully simple. You touch into the living possibility of happiness for you.

    There is no need to change your thoughts or get rid of any emotions to get out of the way. Just become aware of your inner experience. Realize how defining yourself by it constrains you.

    Notice that you can make the choice to live fully now, beyond any self-imposed boundaries, with a clear mind and open heart.

    It is the effortless, practical way to happiness available in each moment.

    How to Do It: An Example

    Let’s take worry as an example. I used to worry about everything; I was full of “what if’s”—what if my plans didn’t pan out, what if I made the wrong decision, what if I didn’t fit in, what if I couldn’t cope. It was endless.

    I remember worrying years ago about whether or not I should attend a work-related social function. By that time, I knew that I could actually get out of the way, so I stopped and felt a moment of gratitude—this was my golden opportunity for freedom. I tapped into what I really wanted, which was to be peaceful, present, and clear.

    Rather than being consumed by worry, I chose to be curious instead.

    I noticed that my attention was completely taken up by negative projections about what might happen in the future. What if I don’t know anyone? What if I feel uneasy there? What if it’s a waste of time?

    My mind was flooded with these anxious thoughts. And when I stepped back to observe them, I saw that they squashed my enthusiasm, closed me down to opportunities, and inhibited me from going outside my comfort zone (which wasn’t so comfortable, anyway).

    Bringing attention to my feelings, I realized I was locked up in fear, with tension everywhere in my body. It was a light bulb moment when I saw how powerful these feelings were, even though they hadn’t been conscious to me before.

    As I noticed these anxious thoughts and feelings, I took a breath. I shifted my attention away from them and returned to simply being present and aware. There was an immediate sense of relief.

    No longer feeding worrying thoughts, the tension subsided, and I found the clarity to make a sane, calm decision about whether or not to go. I saw that the unfolding of life right now was just fine. It was amazing to realize that worry was optional.

    It took some time, but as I became more aware whenever worry started to grip, I began to see the opening of possibility. Instead of needing to figure everything out, I could relax and trust. Instead of being limited by fear, there was space for wonder, creativity, appreciation, and ease of living.

    I was shocked to realize how profoundly this pattern of worry had infiltrated my life.

    At first, only a tiny crack in the tsunami of worry appeared, but eventually, the whole thing collapsed. It just didn’t make sense anymore.

    Things didn’t change overnight, but with care and diligence to worrying—and every other confused habit—it became obvious that they were not serving happiness. Suffering was the tap on the shoulder that brought me back to peace.

    When I saw that the habits were in my way, my interest in them waned until it disappeared entirely. Why? I am happy without them.

    Finally Fully Living

    When you get out of the way, you stop resisting life. The focus shifts from what you don’t have to what is here and available. No longer doubting everything, you receive what life offers you.

    And rather than living in the mind-created past or future, you are available to the simplicity of this now moment.

    Unclouded by mental noise, you become crystal clear about what to do next. You tell the truth about what is and isn’t working. And you take practical steps to begin truly living.

    As I became aware of habits that were hijacking my happiness, I discovered why my relationships weren’t lasting and began making different choices. I realized how fear had been keeping me from living fully. I began seeing everything through the eyes of love.

    Really, it’s true. When you get out of the way, your life will shine…endlessly.

    Photo here

  • Worrying About the Future: On Trusting in Uncertainty

    Worrying About the Future: On Trusting in Uncertainty

    “Worry pretends to be necessary but serves no useful purpose.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    The other day my good friend from back home called me hysterically crying. She felt certain she just blew a second job interview, and she’d hit a breaking point.

    She’d been struggling for months, just barely paying her bills and wondering if she could afford to keep her apartment.

    Every purchase had become an exercise in extreme deliberation. In fact, I’m fairly certain that when I visited last, I saw her stressing in the grocery store about whether she really needed that box of Twinkies that beckoned from the shelf.

    Now here she was, hyperventilating, recounting in explicit detail all the things she’d done wrong in this interview.

    The interviewer looked disgusted, she said—he was probably thinking she was incompetent. He asked her questions in an abrupt way—he was trying to trip her up. He didn’t respond when she made conversation on the way to the door—he most likely hated her and couldn’t wait to get rid of her.

    Having gone through countless interviews with multiple companies, after sending out dozens of resumes, she was just plain exhausted and starting to feel desperate.

    As she recalled the anxiety she felt in this encounter, I visualized her sitting vulnerably in front of his desk, and my heart went out to her. I imagined she felt a lot like Tom Smykowski from Office Space when he was interviewing with the efficiency experts to save his job—before he invented the Jump-to-Conclusions mat.

    “I deal with the goddamn customers so the engineers don’t have to! I have people skills! I am good at dealing with people! Can’t you understand that? What the hell is wrong with you people!?” (more…)

  • How to Find Clarity When You’re Confused About What to Do

    How to Find Clarity When You’re Confused About What to Do

    “Nobody can give you wiser advice than yourself.” ~Cicero 

    You know that state of confusion where you feel really unsure about what to do—you’re talking about it with all of your friends, making lists, weighing options, lying awake all night?

    As confused and unsure as you may feel in those moments, you’re not. You have much more clarity than you think.

    Re-read that last line again. You have a lot more clarity than you think. You see, clarity is what you are. It’s what you’re born with, it’s your true nature, and it’s what is always there underneath the mess of confusing thought that sometimes dances on the surface.

    Confusing thought is there in spades. Being lost in your own personal thought is what produces the feeling of confusion.

    But are “you” actually confused? Nope, not in the least.

    If I Am Clarity, Why Do I Feel Confused?

    The feeling you call confusion is a big to-do that’s created in your mind when you have all kinds of conflicting thoughts (for example, do it, don’t do it, take a chance, why fix what’s not broken?) and you seriously entertain each of those as if they are helpful or important.

    You innocently treat those thoughts as if they are each deserving of consideration just because they happen to be there, forgetting that thoughts are just blips of energy—they don’t possess qualities like “deserving.”

    When you’re in a big thought storm and you grab onto each disagreeing thought that wizzes by, it feels like serious brain muddle.

    Real as it seems, the confusion is an illusion. You nearly always know what you want to do—but you have too much thinking about it all to just go with what you deep-down know.

    For example, I have a ton of thinking about leaving my kids for a few days. I mean a ton.  My separation anxiety is unenlighted to epic proportions.

    I can very easily rattle off a dozen or more reasons to not travel without them, even for very short trips. If I were to make a decision based on my emotions or on the availability of solid “reasons,” I would surely never go.

    So when an opportunity for me to learn from some incredible people next month—for four and a half days, thousands of miles away (the kids will go to bed without me tucking them in for five nights; it literally makes me nauseous to type that)—I knew I couldn’t do it.

    But just a tiny bit more than that, I knew I had to do it.

    And so I told my husband about the opportunity. That was a huge step because, although it’s ultimately my choice, he rarely lets me bow out of things I truly want because of something as minor as insecure, wavering thinking.

    I was right. As soon as I told him, he told me to stop being ridiculous and book the trip. Even though it means he’d be alone with two toddlers for four-and-a-half days, he said “It’s a no-brainer, book the trip.”

    I can’t. I can. I can? Can I really? I couldn’t. I went on and on like that for the better part of an hour, while he lovingly said, “You’re a basket case; just book the trip already.”

    That basket case state where you are honestly entertaining the flurry of competing thought and you’re completely unaware of the calm and clarity beneath the thought—that’s confusion.

    Clarity

    Although it still seems wrong on many levels, I booked the trip because something deeper and calmer tells me that the wrongness is narrow and subjective. Not just because my husband tells me it’s crazy, but because the wiser part of me sort of knew it was all along.

    Why I feel conflicted couldn’t be less important.

    I’m sure I felt abandoned as a kid and don’t want my kids to feel that way, or something along those lines. But it couldn’t matter less because what happened in the past is not the reason I feel the way I feel now. My current, in this moment thinking—and nothing else—is why I feel the way I feel now.

    When I jump on the “Can I? I can’t. I can?” merry-go-round, I get whipped all over the place in a grand gesture of confusion and uncertainty.

    But here’s the magical thing I found: when I stepped away from that merry-go-round, something else was there.

    I want to be very clear about how that something else looked, felt, and sounded. It did not speak loudly—in fact, it was very easily drowned out by the “I can…I couldn’t” tug-of-war.

    It was not an overwhelming feeling of conviction, and it certainly did not erase all my doubts and fears. The doubts and fears were—and are—still spinning.

    Here’s the best way I can think to describe it:

    If I were to pit the knowing voice that arose from the confusion against the confused voice, the knowing voice would be like me after eight hours of sleep and a good breakfast, and the confused voice would be like me with no sleep and a shot of tequila.

    The former just feels a little more trustworthy, a little sounder, and a little more grounded. The latter is louder, more repetitive, and maybe even a little more passionate, but it lacks substance. I get the very clear sense that I might be better served by the former.

    That’s how I know that the knowing voice was clarity.

    Well, that and the fact that I know enough to recognize insecure, personal thinking by now.

    I recognize the merry-go-round. I’m quite familiar with the feeling of jumping on board with flip-flopping, fast-moving, fear-rooted thoughts. And I definitely recognize the fast-talking, passionate-sounding voice that feels like me with no sleep and a little mind-altering substance.

    I’m familiar enough to remember that when I stay grounded and off the merry-go-round, the thoughts eventually die down. They sometimes come back and rev back up, but then they simply die down again.

    And when they finally die down enough—which tends to happen faster the more I stand back and let them do their thing—that knowing voice is still there. That voice is constant while the others aren’t.

    Yet another sign that it’s my always-there clarity.

    Multiple Versions of Reality

    Since I’ve committed to going on the trip, it’s been really fascinating.

    There are ways I can think about it that make me break out in a rash. When my mind creates images of my kids feeling abandoned, or when it creates feelings of those four-and-a-half days being the slowest….days….ever, I suffer.

    But those images and feelings always fade at some point and I stop suffering.

    There are also moments when my mind creates totally different images and feelings, and I feel enthusiastic and eager to go on the trip.

    What has become very clear is that there are multiple versions of reality available to me at any given time.

    Luckily, I know that. I know that even in the middle of an anxiety-provoked rash, I’m only experiencing my own very biased perception of events, not events themselves. This is especially obvious when I consider that I haven’t even gone on the trip yet. I haven’t been away from my kids, and yet I’ve suffered over being away from them. How crazy is that?

    So, knowing that my suffering is only due to my current-moment version of reality helps a lot. It also helps a lot to remember that nearly every time I’ve been totally positive something will be a horrible experience—yet that tiny knowing voice suggests I do it anyway—it ends up not being so bad.

    You can remember these things too, because I’d bet anything they are also true for you.

    The more you learn to recognize your own knowing voice and distinguish it from the loud, repetitive, flip-flopping doubts, the more you naturally cut through what looks like confusion and simply do what you already know to do.

  • 6 Ways Your Mind Tries to Control Your Life

    6 Ways Your Mind Tries to Control Your Life

    Hand on Head

    “I know but one freedom and that is the freedom of the mind.” ~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

    Our mind is a funny thing. On the one hand, it’s awesome. But on the other, it can pulverize us more quickly and ruthlessly than anything else.

    Our mind is inherently scared. That’s its job, to be cautious—to keep us alive, to have us cross roads safely and not get eaten by a lion. But left unchecked, it can become paralyzed with fear and meaner than a cornered crocodile.

    And it’s incredibly bossy.

    The mind’s tendency to want to control is so strong and so habitual that we often don’t realize when it tries to push our inner wisdom and natural sense of ease and love aside.

    The bad news is there is no book or course that will change the nature of our mind. The good news? We don’t have to change it. The problem isn’t our mind but how we use it.

    We feel anxious, fearful, sad, or resentful when we give our mind too much power, when we follow its dopey ideas against our better judgment.

    Here’s how to spot when your mind is trying to take over.

    1. When you ignore your natural inclination.

    Your mind is smart. Not wise smart but computer smart.

    Your mind isn’t into all that woolly intuition jazz. It wants facts. It likes making calculations. Running the odds.

    Say you want to call a friend you haven’t thought of in years. But then your mind says, “Don’t be silly. He’s probably not home. He won’t remember me.”

    So you don’t call.

    But have you ever followed one of those inclinations and then looked back and seen, wow, look at everything that happened after?

    And what about decisions like what to do with your life? The logical way is listen to experts or copy what works for other people. Your mind loves this.

    This is why we ignore the little voice that says, “You should be a writer,” and choose instead to study statistics, because there are plenty of jobs for statisticians. Or we train to be a dancer because we’re “good at that.”

    Except you aren’t “other people.” And experts aren’t as expert about you as you are. And just because you’re “good at something” doesn’t mean it’s what you want to do.

    2. When you want to say no but you end up saying yes.

    Do you have trouble saying no?

    I used to. I didn’t even see it as a serious option until I was age twenty-three and so strung out from months of overdoing that I went for five nights without sleep in the middle of finals.

    It was messy.

    I thought there were rules more important than my deep desire not to do something. Rules like be a good friend, be a good student, go to lots of parties.

    It took me months to recover.

    This is, of course, a total mind thing. Your mind wants to be liked and it thinks everything is important.

    Your mind doesn’t realize that saying “no” isn’t a big deal, or even a medium deal. Or that your intuition is where wisdom lies.

    Not only is it your right to do as you genuinely desire, it benefits everyone when you do.

    I was watching An Angel at My Table recently, based on the autobiography of Janet Frame, one of New Zealand’s favorite authors. Janet spent eight years in a psychiatric hospital, had two hundred electroshock treatments, and narrowly escaped a lobotomy only to learn years later that she wasn’t unwell; she just didn’t like being very social, and if she did what she felt like doing, she was fine.

    3. When you constantly text or check your phone, email, or Facebook status.

    I love the Internet and email and reading comments on my blog. Just love it. What an awesome world we live in.

    But often I feel off balance because of it. Or rather, because of how I use it.

    And it’s not like I don’t know why I get so hooked on it. I do. I’m looking for approval.

    The need for approval goes deep. Not only is it a natural trait of the mind, it’s entrenched by our schooling system.

    But it’s dangerous. It keeps you distracted from the present moment and trains you to worry when people disapprove. Which they will.

    The modern hyper-connected world is addictive. To the mind it’s like candy.

    So what’s the answer? Give it all up?

    Personally, heck no. But setting limits and removing temptation keeps things in check.

    4. When you think, “It’s all very well for them.”

    Have you ever heard an inspirational story and thought, “It’s all very well for him, he came from a rowing family. It’s easy for him to row the Northwest Passage.”

    You see it all the time and it’s a classic case of your mind resisting change, worried you’ll want to make some leap of your own.

    Take Elizabeth Gilbert and her book, Eat, Pray, Love.

    It wasn’t a story about traveling around the world. Not really. It was about survival and courage and how one woman used the resources she had to save herself.

    Thinking, as a few did, that it’s all very well for her she could afford to travel around the world is missing the point.

    We all have the ability to get up off our metaphorical bathroom floor. And we all have our own unique set of resources to help us. When your mind is quickly dismissive and judgmental, it’s trying to stop you from seeing this.

    5. When you try and control someone else.

    Have you ever thought you knew better than someone else and tried to get them to do things your way?

    Just like dozens of times a day, right?

    Your mind is certain you have to intervene. You don’t. Your mind thinks it knows best. It doesn’t.

    Trying to control other people, in small and big matters, is not only annoying and disrespectful, it stops the flow of life. You miss out.

    I don’t know how many times I’ve experienced a profound and unexpected pleasure after I’ve ignored the urge to butt in.

    6. When you feel inadequate for being “too negative.”

    We’re inundated with messages telling us we should be grateful and positive and the like. They’re well meaning, but ultimately unhelpful.

    Because here’s the catch.

    Your mind regards these ideas as rules and is critical when you fail, as you invariably will. Because seriously, who’s positive or grateful all the time?

    A few years ago a friend told me I was a negative person.

    My response: “Okay, so how do I change that?”

    “You don’t,” he said. “You probably won’t always be this way. It’s just how you are right now.”

    Whenever you feel inadequate, this is your mind pushing you to “follow the rules.” It’s well intentioned, but misguided.

    Accepting how you are, no matter how you are, is the most loving and genuinely positive thing you can do.

    And yes, this applies to when you’re being controlling.

    It’s your mind’s nature to seek control. It’s neither a good or bad thing, it just is. Sometimes you’ll succumb, other times you won’t. And it’s all perfectly okay.

    Photo by threephin

  • Worrying

    Worrying

    Worrying

    Source

  • We Have the Strength to Move Through Pain and Uncertainty

    We Have the Strength to Move Through Pain and Uncertainty

    See the Light

    “Suffering is not caused by pain but by resisting pain.” ~Unknown

    Earlier this year our beloved puppy got sick. Not just a poorly tummy kind of sick, but proper, life-threatening, blood transfusion-requiring sick. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. She was at death’s door.

    The vet was talking to us in quiet and kindly tones. Using words like “grave.”

    Her illness was apparently unusual in a dog her age. Her prognosis was uncertain. She would require months of treatment that may or may not work. We were to watch her for signs of deterioration. Note changes in her appetite and energy levels.

    And then it was our son’s turn. He didn’t get sick. But something in his physiology concerned the doctors. That meant he had to undergo surgery in order to rule out a cancer that the consultant told us would be extremely serious for him.

    Like the puppy, we were asked to monitor his energy levels, his appetite, his sleep. We were advised to keep a close eye on him while the tests were completed. To report any changes.

    Twice in quick succession, life threw us a curve ball. Twice, the otherwise hunky-dory life we had been enjoying became something altogether less comfortable.

    We’d been happily plodding along in a bit of a smug bubble. We seemed to have it all going on. Not perfect—not by a long shot. But pretty darn good.

    Bad things, it seemed, happened to other people. It’s just how it was…until we abruptly found ourselves living in a far more anxiety provoking reality—a reality that looked nothing like the shiny existence we’d been enjoying.

    At times my anxiety was crippling. The uncertainty felt hideous. My desire to rush to the safety of certainty, and answers, was overwhelming. I was desperate to define what I was feeling, and what we were experiencing.

    Online searches of both conditions were terrifying. Hopeless. My stomach would lurch as I read yet another firsthand account of a dog, or a boy, facing these illnesses.

    There was no certainty. No answers. No comfort to be had. Answers, good or bad, would take time. I was in pain. I felt like I was falling. I felt an intense kind of shame at our overt imperfection as a family.

    We were becoming other people. The other people who I had always had sympathy for, but apparently no empathy.

    I had protected myself from their pain, and my fear, by subconsciously telling myself they were different somehow. I jealously looked on, as those around me appeared to be enjoying a carefree existence filled with a certainty that I was being denied.

    Fortunately, this story has a happy ending. The dog recovered, against all the odds. Our boy was found to be cancer free. I am grateful beyond measure for both these outcomes.

    But I am also profoundly grateful for what these experiences taught me.

    They showed me that when adversity hits, there’s no value in running or hiding. While the drive to do this is so incredibly understandable, and our instinctive need to take flight to keep ourselves safe can feel overwhelming, it just doesn’t help.

    I realized that despite my deepest held wish for all the hideousness to disappear, to be relieved from the pain I was in, there was no way around it.

    When life throws you a curve ball, I realized that you have to feel the feelings. You have to sit with the deep discomfort of the uncertainty you face. You have to breathe through it, even when it feels like it may swamp you entirely.

    It’s like sitting at the water’s edge and letting a big wave hit you. It’s like allowing yourself to be swept up, tossed around in the water and dumped mercilessly, sandy and undignified on the shore.

    And here’s the thing that was the biggest revelation for me: All the while this is going on—when life appears to be showing you no mercy—you have it in you to give yourself the soothing comfort you so desperately crave.

    You can sit in solidarity with yourself in your pain. You can rub your own back as you sit, head in your hands, despairing at the edge of the road.

    You can encourage yourself to breathe in and out. Remind yourself that you’re not alone. That all humans know the pain of uncertainty and fear. That while your circumstances may be unique, your suffering is not.

    Which ultimately gives you strength to look your pain in the eye. To sit with it, acknowledge it, and move through it.

    My experience has left me changed—humbled, and a little bruised by having to recognize my utter vulnerability in the face of life’s randomness. But it’s also left me hopeful that when adversity does strike again (and I have no doubt that it will) I have it in me to see my way through the pain.

    And so do you.

    Photo by Martin Fisch

  • A Simple but Powerful Way to Kick the Worry Habit

    A Simple but Powerful Way to Kick the Worry Habit

    “Worry often gives a small thing a big shadow.” ~Swedish proverb

    I’m a worrier by nature, and I come by it honestly.

    My mother was afraid to cross bridges and ride in elevators, boats, and airplanes. Her mother died of cancer at the age of forty, and my mother spent many years—including those of my childhood—thinking every sniffle, fever, or headache might be the start of something fatal.

    Although I didn’t realize it at the time, growing up with a steady dose of anxiety, like an invisible intravenous drip, had its effect on my developing mind.

    I was an introverted, timid child. Afraid of the boys who threw snowballs, afraid of steep ski trails, afraid of not getting A’s in every subject, all the time. A lot of my anxiety got channeled into perfectionism, and—just like my mother—trying to control pretty much everything.

    The gift in my anxiety was a distinct drive to find peace. That quest led me to meditation at the tender age of nineteen.

    That was more than forty years ago. I was young and naïve and really had no idea what I was doing (the belief that I could banish worry forever being just one indication of my naiveté). But I persisted—and when I lost the thread of practice, I always eventually came back to it.

    Here’s one thing I’ve learned in forty-some years of meditation and awareness practice: There is a great deal that I’m not aware of. Still.

    That could be discouraging, and sometimes it is. But what keeps me on this path, what keeps me meditating and working to bring the light of mindful attention to the dark places in my mind and life, are the new awarenesses, the small victories I feel in moments when something that was unseen is all at once seen.

    There is a thrill in that, not perhaps like the thrill of speeding down a black diamond trail or any of those other physical challenges I’ve always been afraid of, but a thrill just the same.

    One day, not too long ago, I was driving to a train station to leave my car in a long-term lot while I visited New York for a few days. I had never been to this lot and as I drove, I was feeling the pressure of needing to find the lot, find a spot, and not miss the train.

    That feeling of pressure isn’t unusual when I have a deadline such as a train to catch. But this time, for some reason, I became more acutely aware of a subtle layer of physical and emotional tension.

    Just as I often do on the meditation cushion, I began to bring the feeling of tension more fully into awareness and to investigate it as I was driving. Here’s what I saw:

    1. I was facing an unknown (inconsequential as it was), which triggered anxiety because the unknown is impossible to control.

    2. My feelings were telling me a lie—that is, that this unknown situation had life-or-death consequences.

    And most importantly:

    3. How I was relating to the unknown of not being sure about where to park and how long it would take, this is how I relate to all unknowns in my life, large and small. That is, I approach the unknown with an underlying assumption that was completely unconscious until that moment: “It won’t work out.”

    Because I had become aware of it, I was able to question the assumption. I remembered Pema Chodron’s description of a traditional Tibetan Buddhist teaching, from Start Where You Are: A Guide to Compassionate Living: “train in the three difficulties.”*

    The first “difficulty” is to see your unhelpful patterns of thought and behavior. The second is to “do something different.” The third is to continue doing that different thing.

    So, I asked myself, “What if I tried something different, and assumed it most likely would work out?” (That is, I would find the lot, be able to find a parking spot, and get to the train on time.)

    I tried to coax my brain toward this idea, and to resist the considerable energy drawing it back to the habitual, well-worn track of  “It won’t work out.”

    It felt strange, driving toward the station with the idea that finding parking and getting to the train was workable. I mean “strange” the way crossing your legs the opposite way from how you usually do feels strange. Not bad, really, but unfamiliar, foreign.

    But not too long after it felt strange, it felt incredibly liberating. Just as assuming “It won’t work out” is a pretty sure bet to breed anxiety, approaching an unknown with the assumption that it’s going to be workable is likely to induce at least some degree of calm and equanimity.

    And it did. My shoulders relaxed, my breathing deepened, and I felt a kind of mental brightening, as if a foreboding storm cloud had unexpectedly lifted.

    I’d like to say that was the moment when I cast aside the worn-out assumption that “It won’t work out” and replaced it—forevermore—with “It’s all workable.” Well, suffice it to say, I’m still working on the third difficulty: “Continue in that new way.”

    But that’s okay with me now, in a way it wouldn’t have been four decades ago. Instead of feeling impatient to get rid of that worry-driven assumption, I feel grateful that I became aware of it.

    And to me, that kind of awareness, arising seemingly spontaneously, is the fruit of meditation and whatever other ways we work to wake up. However imperfectly we make that effort, it does make a difference over time.

    Contrary to the incessant messages from our turbo-charged culture, here’s another piece of wisdom I’ve gleaned in forty-some years of meditating and sixty-some years of life: Most change happens bit by bit, one small “aha” at a time, with lots of practice in between.

    And there’s joy to be had—in each of those small awakenings, and in the winding path we walk toward the unknown, illumined by the light of one humble, thrilling realization after another.

    (By the way–no surprise—I did find the lot and a parking space, and got to the train with plenty of time. It did work out.)

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

    Learning to Enjoy the Process and Stop Worrying About the Outcome

    Happy

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

    Remember the Tasmanian Devil?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    How did I arrive here, you might ask.

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

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

    Except that it’s not.

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

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

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

    I call this The Flailing Effect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    In Buddhism, they call this patient acceptance.

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

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

    I’ve learned to embrace the work now.

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

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

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

    It all turns out fine.

    Photo by Nguyen ST

  • Find Peace Today: Stop Worrying About What You Might Lose

    Find Peace Today: Stop Worrying About What You Might Lose

    Present Moment

    “The whole life of a man is but a point in time; let us enjoy it.” ~ Plutarch

    Take a moment to think about the last time you stared up into a clear night sky, one that was gorged with stars and seemed to go on forever—one where the longer you stared, the more depth appeared.

    How did you feel in that moment? Did you feel calm? Scared? Alone? Completely content? Did you wish you could stay in that moment forever?

    Skies like that give me an incredible sense of peace and remind me to breathe deeply and contemplate how our lives are simultaneously overwhelmingly vast and incredibly finite.

    Over the years, I have struggled with allowing people to get close to me for fear of losing them the way I had lost so many before.

    After an adoption, the unexpected death of my adopted mother, my best friend, several family members, and the smattering of broken relationships, I built a solid wall against anyone who looked like they wanted to be near me.

    I finally came to terms with the fact that in the end, most people who come into our lives will leave in some way or another—sometimes by choice and sometimes not, but their presence is what matters, not their absence.

    What’s important is realizing that each moment we have with those we love is of infinite value, and we must enjoy the time we have with them while we have it instead of being so afraid we’ll lose them that we’re never really with them even when they are here.

    If we’re so engulfed in the potential for loss, we’ll not only miss the lessons each experience can bring to our lives, but the joy it has to offer. Our happiness will sit in front of us waiting for us to recognize its face and we’ll look past it like a stranger.

    People spend an exorbitant amount of time, energy, and resources on attempting to hold back aging as it is a reminder of our mortality. It reminds us that there is no permanence, so we frantically fight to find ways to extend the length of our lives, but how many focus on deepening the quality?

    Why not slow down and realize we are immortal only in the moment we are in—this moment we inhabit contains our entire past and all of our potential and possibility for the future that may or may not arrive.

    Let’s fill this time we have now with all that we are instead of fighting for more and never actually doing anything with it. It’s like collecting a bunch of empty jars but never putting anything in them. 

    I know it can be terrifying to let go and be present in the moment because we think we have to control everything; we have to be prepared for loss, for disappointment, for heartache. We don’t want it to creep up and take us by surprise, but here’s the thing: no matter what we do to prepare, we’ll never be ready for it when it comes.

    The best we can do is fully embrace the only thing we know to be certain, and that is the current moment we inhabit. This very second as you’re reading these words, you know that you are alive.

    And no matter what’s going on in your life, your life is a miracle. Right. This. Second. Your living is an amazing orchestration of a billion and one complex systems that enables you to breathe, to think, to have a heartbeat, to learn, to grow, and to love.

    It’s hard to not fear losing others. It’s hard to not fear losing ourselves, but fear is what drives away our peace, joy, and love.

    Learning to retrain our thoughts so we don’t dwell on our fear of the unknown future and grounding into the present will help us shift our focus from loss to abundance.

    When we focus on loss, it feels as though we’re always lacking and we worry we’ll lose what we have. When we focus on abundance, we recognize that our lives are full and we cultivate the faith that each moment we’re alive, we will have what we need.

    Additionally, when we focus on abundance, a sense of gratitude seems to naturally follow. How could we recognize how full our lives are and not be grateful?

    When we are grateful for the moment we are in, we will find our lives are long enough—no matter how many years they contain.

    Photo by pdam2

  • Why Enthusiasm Trumps Worrying When It Comes to Reaching Goals

    Why Enthusiasm Trumps Worrying When It Comes to Reaching Goals

    Sunrise Jump

    “Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow. It only saps today of its joy.” ~Leo Buscaglia

    They say the greatest joy in life is to be able to live your passion every day, and I only had to look to my teens to remember that what I had always enjoyed doing most—working out. That’s where I wanted to go in life.

    Held hostage by worries about the future, status, and money, I decided to head on a different path. I did well in college, graduating with a business degree and a double major in finance and accounting.

    A few years later, it was clear that something was off. So last year, I made the big decision to pursue my passion in fitness by becoming a certified personal trainer. The start of the year was full of energy and joy. I was glad that I had finally found my direction, something that I wholeheartedly wanted to do.

    I was a man on a mission. By the end of August, I had accomplished my task by taking all the exams and passing the instructor competency evaluation.

    Whew, I thought.

    All I had to do now was wait for a letter of approval and a wallet card to make it official.

    But, what was supposed to take a few weeks ended up taking more than two months. This was the kink in my momentum.

    Before I ran into this speed bump, I had everything all carefully and strategically planned out. After I became an accredited personal trainer, it would be “go” time.

    Then, while waiting for my accreditation to come through, I felt stuck. I couldn’t start taking clients. I just waited. And with extra time on my hands, I started to think.

    This thinking was good at first; I laid out my plans and business strategically. But the more I thought about my personal training business, the more I started to worry.

    My worries soon manifested into fear and doubt. I started to feel sick, both inside and out. It wasn’t long before the slow days gave way to questions. Did I give up pursuing a career in the finance industry for this? Was this all a mistake? (more…)