Tiny Buddha: Wisdom Quotes, Letting Go, Letting Happiness In

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by TylerTervooren

“A diamond is just a piece of charcoal that handled stress exceptionally well.” – Unknown

Two years ago, I was sitting in my car thinking just after being laid off from the job I thought I’d probably spend the rest of my life doing. According to how these stories usually go, I should have been mad; I should have been scared; I should have wanted revenge.

But I didn’t feel any of these things. Instead, I felt an unexplainable happiness—like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. When the shock of the moment wore off, I realized why I was so happy; all of a sudden, anything was possible!

It had been years since I’d tried something new. It’d been years since I’d taken a risk on myself. It’d been years since I’d actually felt alive. And this moment had snapped me out of it.

So, sitting there in my car that day, faced with no idea what my life was going to look like starting tomorrow, I asked myself a simple question:

What would my life be like if I did something that scared me every single day?

Two years later and I’m relatively convinced it’s the best question I ever asked. It’s lead me to new and interesting relationships, up mountains, to strange countries, and into self-employment.

None of these things were comfortable—quite the opposite, actually, but they were all worth the effort.

Giving Stress a Good Name

I think it’s been a while since stress has gotten a fair shake. It’s no four-letter word—literally or figuratively—and for the bad rap it’s gotten in ruining lives, it’s also reaffirmed just as many. Click Here to Read More…

by Lori Deschene

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

Did you ever feel like there was a conversation you really wanted to have with someone, and yet a part of you felt it was unwise?

This is a feeling I know all too well.

When I was younger, I spent years fighting for an apology. It wasn’t until my whole world crashed down on me that I realized I’d become a tornado of anger and bitterness, destroying everything in my wake.

I eventually realized I needed to let go of the victim story I’d been carrying around, whether I got the closure I sought or not. For a long time, I thought I had let go.

But recently I realized I’ve been carrying around subconscious resentment, because a part of me still wants to hear those words I chased long ago—that I’ve always deserved respect and love, and I’ve never deserved to feel pain and shame.

So I put this all in a letter that I don’t intend to send. Despite having spent many years in therapy, and even more collecting self-help books, I’ve never done this before.

The other day was the first day I got it all down. I titled this Word Doc “What I Need to Say,” and I ended it with the following words:

“I wrote this letter because I want to heal more fully. A part of me feels that would be so much easier for me if you could look me in the eye and say, ‘I’m sorry.’

Then I remember I chose to stop pursuing an apology. So instead of pushing for it, I will say this: for all the anger, resentment, bitterness, and cruelty I directed toward you many years ago, I’m sorry. That’s not the person I want to be. The person I want to be isn’t a victim. She’s loving, compassionate, and kind.

The person I want to be has forgiven you, and loves herself for making that choice.’”

Somehow just expressing these thoughts makes me feel empowered—and all the more confident that I deserve my own respect. I am not forgetting that I was hurt. I am choosing to heal. I am choosing to be the type of love I’d like to receive.

Little in this world is more powerful than that.

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Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Janny Chang

“If we are facing in the right direction, all we have to do is keep on walking.” ~Proverb

Five years ago, I decided to fulfill my dream of getting a doctorate. I knew from talking to friends who took on the same endeavor that it would mean many sleepless nights and tons of reading and writing. But nothing prepared me for the path that lay ahead.

Graduate school is often compared to a marathon. Why? At each moment, when you think you’ve completed a major milestone, you realize you have a long road ahead. You just have to keep going and going.

First, there’s the coursework. I took on a full load and worked two part-time jobs.

Second, you really have to develop a thick skin because part of the experience of graduate school is humbling yourself before your professors and peers and learning to take constructive criticism. This also becomes an exercise in tuning into your own voice by learning how to distinguish between useless and useful feedback.

Third, your patience is tried and tested because it’s such a long road–an average five to seven years to completion in the United States.

I went into graduate school because I loved learning and I had a passion for my research. Along the way, as I buried myself in books, grading, and academic dialogue with my colleagues, I lost sight of this passion.

I became so focused on the destination that I forgot about the journey.

For my dissertation, I had to travel abroad to collect data. At first, I was enthused about the act of discovery. What kind of data would I find? What would I learn about the country, culture, and people living there? I was excited about the prospect of my research contributing to the good of mankind, even in some minute way. I harbored high hopes. Click Here to Read More…

by Lori Deschene

“Our way to practice is one step at a time, one breath at a time.” -Shunryu Suzuki

When I was younger I frequently had mini panic attacks and feared that I might suffocate. It literally felt difficult to catch my breath; it almost felt like I was being smothered.

When I felt this type of anxiety, people often told me, “Just breathe.” But that was the problem—it didn’t feel like I could. The missing piece of their advice was how.

When we’re feeling frustrated, or panicked, or stressed, or scared, we tend to breathe rapid, shallow breaths, allowing minimal air to our lungs.

This can actually lead to a number of physical problems, including dizziness, headaches, chronic fatigue, heart palpitations, headaches, high blood pressure, and numbness.

So on top of the difficult emotions we may experience, we then create short-term and long-term physical problems by reducing the amount of oxygen that gets to our brains.

The alternative: Take deep, slow, mindful breaths through the nose. Then hold the breath briefly before exhaling for twice as long as the inhalation.

Not only does this help us release tension and reduce anxiety; it also provides a solid internal focus to help ground us when we may feel overwhelmed by external circumstances.

That’s what it means to just breathe: to just breathe. To concentrate solely on the experience of nourishing our bodies with air and in doing so foster a deep sense of internal safety.

This reminds us that no matter how catastrophic things may seem, we’re alive. We’re okay. We’ll get through it. We are still here, still strong, still breathing.

If you’re feeling overwhelmed, just breathe. Forget for a minute about everything that needs to be done, and take it all one slow step and deep breath at time.

If you’re feeling worried, just breathe. Forget for a minute about everything that might go wrong and create what can go right, one slow step and deep breath at a time.

If you’re feeling scared, just breathe. Forget for a minute about everything that might hurt you and take care of yourself, one slow step and deep breath at a time.

Oftentimes the world inside our heads is far more chaotic than the world outside it. We have immense power to calm it by remembering to just breathe.

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Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by David Singer

“If we are not fully ourselves, truly in the present moment, we miss everything.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

A person I work with recently left me an article about the unproductiveness of multitasking. On it was a sticky-note saying, “I think you’ll like this article. I wish I could do better in this area. I find it difficult, if not impossible, to not look at e-mail for a couple of hours if I’m at my desk.”

I immediately thought of my dad. He and I had met for lunch a few days earlier. He’s in his mid-70s and still loves his career, continuing to work nearly full-time.

At one point in the meal it occurred to me that unlike everyone else I know (myself included), he wouldn’t be receiving a call or a text message during our time together. He has a cell phone, but he always turns it off when he’s meeting with someone, whether a business meeting or a personal get-together.

He doesn’t put it on silent. He doesn’t put it on vibrate. He turns it off.

What a nice feeling for me, to be with someone who was totally present—and what a nice thing for him, to be living fully in the present moment.

My smartphone isn’t set to notify me when I get a new e-mail, but I regularly feel the temptation to check it, particularly in moments when there is a “lull in the action.”

For example, I recently checked my email (under a jacket so as not to disturb anyone else) when I was bored during a movie. That’s just the kind of thing that caused me to hold out on making the move to a smartphone in the first place—the concern that I would let the ease of access to things like e-mail suck me in at times when I previously would have been happy to do without.

Back to my eating with my dad. Here’s another thing that anyone who has a meal with him will notice: He’s an incredibly slow eater—likely the slowest eater you have ever met. He chews for a long time, and he savors every bite.

He eats mindfully. Click Here to Read More…

by Lori Deschene

“Judgments prevent us from seeing the good that lies beyond appearances.” -Wayne Dyer

The other day I was writing at a community table at Starbucks when an older man asked if he could sit next to me. Since our chairs were backed up against a wall, I had to get up to facilitate this.

I thought he was looking at me in a slightly strange way, but I put this out of my mind. We were sitting side by side in a confined space, not walking down a dark alley together—there was no reason to be alarmed.

Several hours after he’d left, he came back in to use the bathroom. When he saw me, he said, “Wow, you’re still here.”

I responded, “Yup, I pretty much live here. It’s my unofficial office.” And we both laughed a little. Again, he was looking at me in a way that made me feel uncomfortable.

Then he asked me what I do.

After I told him a little about Tiny Buddha, he told me that his passion is music—and then he offered to show me this trailer for a documentary he’d made.

If it were online, I would have posted it, because it moved me, and reminded me how music can inspire, connect, and heal. I could see he was proud and excited to share this, and I felt grateful for having seen it.

After it ended, he told me music means so much to him partly because he was born 80% deaf. After many operations, his sense of hearing has improved dramatically, but still, it isn’t perfect.

That’s why he’d been looking at me in a way that seemed odd; he was trying to read my lips.

I almost completely judged him by appearances and assumptions—and if I had, I would have missed the fleeting opportunity to see inside his heart and find a piece of myself.

I write and publish a lot of posts about opening up and reserving judgment, and yet sometimes it’s still instinctive to shut down and close people out.

It’s even more tempting when we suspect there’s something to fear. Of course it’s always best to follow our instincts when we genuinely feel we’re in harm’s way.

But the truth is we rarely are. Most often, we’re sitting side-by-side with someone just like us, who has something amazing to share if only we’re open to receiving it.

Photo by Akuppa

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Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Sonal Pandey

“Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good.” ~Voltaire

This was just not working out. I had ended up in a failed attempt every single time. This was my 4th day of trying to fix everything.

I had wanted to make a video for my blog—just a minute-long introduction. Not that I didn’t have one already.

I had a video up and running. But that was from my first attempt, and everyone knows there is always room for improvement.

After the video went up, I started to see how I could do better than that. I was not going to be satisfied with something just good enough.

I wanted to emphasize the right words. I wanted the right amount of pause where it mattered. And just enough rise in the tempo of my voice where needed.

The lighting had to be perfect. An overcast day would not help. I wanted to dress right, I wanted to look right.

I wanted to sound enthusiastic, not pushy. I wanted to put my best out there.

My husband offered help with setting up my precarious camera set up. But I politely refused. I wanted to do it all by myself.

I didn’t need to lean on anyone to get the million settings just right. I was being self-reliant, or so I told myself.

My camera stood on a tripod pulled to the maximum. My lap-top was perched on top of a step stool which stood on a cane foot rest, which in turn was balanced on a dining chair. This was needed in order to bring the tele-prompter software running in my lap-top level with my line of sight.

Then there was the little matter of keeping my bouncy toddler from demolishing my rickety set up with a single sleight of his hand.

If persistence was something that could be learned, I had got it down pat. Click Here to Read More…

by Lori Deschene

“Nurture your mind with great thoughts; to believe in the heroic makes heroes.” -Benjamin Disraeli

The other day I read about an insightful Native American myth. A tribal elder tells his grandson that inside each of us, there is a black dog and a white dog doing battle.

The black dog possesses qualities typically understood as negative, including envy, greed, sorrow, anger, resentment, and arrogance. The white dog possesses qualities understood as positive, including love, joy, kindness, empathy, compassion, humility, and peace.

The grandson asks, “Which dog will win the fight?” And the elder responds, “Whichever one we feed.”

What an empowering call to action. We can reap tremendous benefits from asking ourselves: What am I nurturing in myself today?

We can choose to dwell on everything we think is wrong, complain about it to everyone who’ll listen, focus on everything we think we lack, and generally go through our days feeding negativity.

Or we can choose to engage with the world in ways that feel right, talk about the things that excite us, focus on everything that makes us feel fortunate, and generally go through our days feeding positivity.

Of course, there is a third, likely more realistic option: We can do our best to recognize when we’re doing the former, and then make the conscious choose to do the latter.

We may never completely eliminate negative thoughts, but we can learn to catch them and dispute them with increasing regularity.

We may not always feel loving and kind, but we can choose to meditate, practice yoga, or do whatever helps us create inner calm, so as to cultivate those feelings more often.

We may never feel permanently peaceful, but we can choose to question our envy, resentment, and discontent to develop self-awareness and act on what we learn.

It also serves us to recognize that we all come from different places, and despite our similarities, we each have our own unique blend of challenges. Contrary to the myth, very little is black and white.

This means it’s our job to recognize how we’re out of balance, without judging why it’s so or comparing ourselves to other people, so we can focus on doing our best to nurture good thoughts and feelings.

We don’t live in a purely positive world, and we can’t control everything that happens to us—but we can make the world a better place by first striving to know and nourish ourselves.

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Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Roo Mulligan

“Begin at once to live and count each separate day as a separate life.” ~Seneca

“Where do you envision yourself in five years?”

This is a common interview question. Managers like to find employees who set goals for themselves. They think it is a sign of a person who is motivated and wants to get ahead in life.

I used to believe this too. I constantly badgered myself, “You should be further along in your career.” “Everyone else your age is in management positions, why aren’t you?” “Maybe I should get an MA so I can get a better job and be more qualified.”

There was constant pressure on me to be more, to achieve more, to do better, to be better than what I was right then. I put that pressure on myself. American society idealizes the upwardly mobile, outwardly wealthy, ambitious person.

When I was in my 30s I had a Director position with a good company, a husband, two kids, and a nice house in Florida. I was living the American dream. If asked my five-year plan in an interview I would have said to continue to move up in the company, to earn a higher salary, go back to school to get my Master’s Degree, send my kids to the best schools, and build an extension on my house.

All my goals were exterior driven—to do, strive, angst and work, work, work, work harder. But life happens and you can’t control or predict what will be thrown your way. 

In the next five years the economy tanked, and my husband was in danger of losing his job, so he wisely found another—in Indiana. We moved to the Midwest where I had never even had the slightest inkling of desire to live. Click Here to Read More…

by Lori Deschene

“It’s not who you are that holds you back; it’s who you think you’re not.” -Unknown

I know this may seem obvious, but I recently realized I have the most confidence in the things that I do most frequently.

For example, I write every day—and I have a lot of confidence in my ability to help people through my words. I identify myself as a writer, which goes a long way in motivating me to do this consistently and passionately.

I feel less confident when it comes to the business side of things—negotiating the contract for my next book, for example. I frequently reinforce to myself that I’m not a businesswoman; and as a result, I rarely think or act like one.

While a part of me enjoys not focusing on money, I also realize we all need money to live, and there’s a lot of good we can do with our earnings, for ourselves and other people.

Just recently, my friend Emmanuel wrote a blog post about receiving a generous financial gift from a client, and then passing it on to a friend in need.

When I read something like, I’m reminded that my restrictive thinking not only limits my own financial stability; it also impacts my ability to give to others, whether I do that directly, or through my capacity to continually invest in this site.

Right then I realized:

Confidence doesn’t only come from knowing who we think we are, and what we can do well; it also comes from believing in who we can become and what we can do better.

We’re best able to do this if we consciously choose to see ourselves differently, and then act on that vision a little every day.

For me, this means recognizing when I’m limiting possibilities by thinking, “I’m a writer—this isn’t for me,” and instead proactively choosing to create new opportunities, guided by the belief, “I’m a visionary, and there’s no limit to what I can create.”

It’s a tiny shift in thinking that can make a profound difference. It’s amazing how simply adjusting our self-perception can dramatically impact our confidence and potential.

We get to decide what we do, create, and become in this life. But that means we need to be willing to ask ourselves: What’s the impact I’d like to make, how do I need to evolve to do that, and what steps can I take to enable that, today and every day?

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Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Angela Marchesani

“Kites rise highest against the wind, not with it.” ~Winston Churchill

A little over two years ago, in December of 2009, I wrote these hopeless words in my journal:

“All around me, I’m noticing people perpetuate patterns they claim to hate or end up in situations they’ve always dreaded. And I can’t seem to break free. When I take steps to make a new life or forge a new path, barriers pop up left and right. I don’t know what to do differently.”

At the time, it felt as if my repeated attempts at changing the trajectory of my life toward joy and expansion were constantly thwarted by some covert forces intent on keeping me down.

I felt as if I was fated to feel unfulfilled and discontent for the rest of my life. I felt like maybe everyone was fated to repeat maladaptive patterns and self-sabotaging mistakes.

My, how things have changed.

Since then, I’ve taken significant steps toward major changes in my life, all bringing me closer to a joyful life based on my “anchors,” or values. My life continues to open up and I am presented with new opportunities daily.

But there is still resistance. Nay-sayers. Obstacles to this change that I previously thought were unmanageable. In the past when these obstacles came up, I would shrink back into my old life thinking, “I knew I couldn’t do that.”

In the present, I harness all of my strength and resources and confront these obstacles head-on. I know that there will always be resistance to change. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worthwhile.

I’ve identified the two primary barriers to change, and some strategies for managing both.

Read on to begin charting a new course for your life. Click Here to Read More…

by Lori Deschene

“When you believe something can be done, really believe, your mind will find ways to do it.” -Dr. David Schwartz

In 1957, Dr. Robert Merton introduced an idea known as the Galatea Effect, which suggests we tend to do what we expect we’ll do.

If you think you can run a marathon, you’re more likely to push yourself through training and eventually cross the finish line. If you expect that you’ll make friends easily, you’ll likely be relaxed enough to make people around you feel at ease.

It also works the other way around. If you believe you don’t have the leadership skills to run a meeting, your insecurity will undermine your authority. If you expect you’ll clam up around the person you’re attracted to, you’ll find yourself sweating whenever you meet eyes.

What if we woke up and expected not only the best of ourselves and our efforts, but also the best in the unexpected? What if we expected that the things we can’t predict will somehow turn out for the best? What if we didn’t just believe in ourselves; we believed in our ability to adapt to the unknown?

We can never know exactly what’s coming, but we can know that no matter what happens, we can turn it into something good. We can know that no matter where our aspirations lead us, we can meet all our needs through our interpretations, attitude, and actions.

If you’re feeling stressed about the things you’re trying to accomplish, choose to expect the best in yourself–but more importantly, remember that you can find joy in tomorrow, no matter what it brings.

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Editor’s Note: This blog post was submitted anonymously

“There are two primary choices in life: to accept conditions as they exist, or accept responsibility for changing them.” ~Denis Waitley

Even though I am just 20, I’ve always been one of those people who is constantly waiting for my life to start. “When I’m older I’ll do this” and “In a few years I’ll do that.”

My Dad took his own life when I was very young. Due to my age and the fact my family struggled so much with the loss, I grew up thinking he died of natural causes and learned the truth by accident when I was a teenager.

At the time I told one friend, who was my age. In hindsight she was too young take on my burdens as well as her own, and I was too young to know how to handle finding something like this out. The way I viewed my family, my Dad, and myself completely changed.

For a few years I dealt with it very destructively.

I couldn’t make sense of all these new feelings I was experiencing and constantly viewed myself as worthless and unattractive; in my head I must have been if my own Dad could leave me like that.

I suffered with depression and an eating disorder that would continue for a long time.

A lot of my friends never knew about the way I felt. I was always “the funny one” and became loud and overconfident to mask what I was actually feeling. Food became comfort for me, and always in the privacy of my own room.

High school soon ended, and I welcomed that with open arms. I saw the next stage in my education as a new beginning. I loved my friends with all my heart, but I thought a change of scenery and a chance to meet new people would help me change the way I looked at myself and my issues.

But nothing really changed.

I met some amazing people, discovered my love for music again, and had some wonderful times. But I was still burying issues and hiding behind jokes and overconfidence. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Jackie Stewart

“Turn your face toward the sun and the shadows will fall behind you.” ~Maori Proverb

Imagine a graph showing the number of hours the average person spends out of doors today compared with 50 years ago. Imagine another graph showing how many people suffer from depression, stress, and anxiety compared to 50 years ago.

I’m confident that there would be a direct correlation between the two graphs; as one has declined the other has risen.

As we’ve turned our backs on nature we’ve lost our natural source of happiness. By turning our faces back toward the sun we find lasting happiness and more.

My life has led me into nature, away from it and back into the heart of nature again. Now I know there are simple ways we can all reconnect with nature whether we live in the city, the woods, or somewhere in between.

I grew up on the west coast of Scotland between Atlantic waves and rolling hills. The tiny hamlet where I spent the first 17 years of my life had a population of 17 people, and we were 60 miles from the closest cinema or swimming pool.

The primary school population peaked one year when we had 12 pupils gathered from a 10 mile radius. Aged 5–12 we were taught in one classroom by one teacher. They shut the school the year after I went to high school because there was only one pupil left.

I couldn’t wait to swap wild countryside for a different kind of wild. As I grew up, I craved boys, bright lights, big city, excitement, and culture, so I gravitated to London.

On a daily basis my senses were assailed by the buzz of city life.

I stared wide-eyed at advertising posters pasted on the underground and hordes of people who bustled past me in an eclectic mix of style, race, and age. I absorbed myself in the pulsing heart of the vibrant city and forgot about the countryside I’d left behind. Click Here to Read More…

by Lori Deschene

Update: The winners for this giveaway have already been chosen. Subscribe to Tiny Buddha to receive free daily or weekly emails and to learn about future giveaways!

The Winners:

• Amber
• Cris

Have you ever felt like the present moment is passing you by while you’re caught up worrying, analyzing, planning, and trying to protect yourself from pain and loss?

It’s one the pitfalls of the human condition: we often paralyze ourselves in the pursuit of happiness and abundance, and in the process, miss out on the joy right in front of us.

Shyalpa Tenzin Rinpoche has devoted his life to helping people live joyful, mindful lives, free from the burdens of their minds.

In his new book, Living Fully, Finding Joy in Every Breath, Rinpoche summarizes his teachings in succinct, easily digestible sections. The result is a guide for living in the moment, peacefully, connected to the people and the world around us.

The Giveaway

To enter to win 1 of 2 free copies of Living Fully:

• Leave a comment below
• Tweet: RT @tinybuddha Book GIVEAWAY & Interview: Living Fully (comment on the blog to win!) http://bit.ly/ydAMit

If you don’t have a Twitter account, you can still enter by completing the first step. You can enter until midnight PST on Sunday, March 11^th.

The Interview

1. You were trained to be a Lama from the age of four. Did you always feel certain you wanted to be a spiritual teacher?

Even though I was trained in the most ancient Tibetan Buddhist spiritual tradition from a very young age, I personally never intended to become a spiritual leader. Click Here to Read More…

by Lori Deschene

“Be gentle first with yourself if you wish to be gentle with others.” -Lama Yeshe

All too often we’re unforgiving and cruel to ourselves in a way we’d never treat our friends.

We’d never look a friend in the eyes and tell her she’s not good enough. We’d never beat a friend up over one mistake he made years ago. We’d never expect a friend to move mountains when she’s exhausted and clearly needs a rest.

Why do we sometimes do these things to ourselves?

So often when we think about self-love, we think about the big picture—forgiving ourselves for past mistakes and accepting ourselves, imperfections and all.

But in much the same way we show love in relationships through tiny acts of appreciation and consideration, we can love ourselves through small, maybe even random acts of kindness.

For me, that means allowing myself to relax if I need to, even if I feel like I should be productive. It means treating myself to a nice lunch every now and then, even if I feel I should save money. It means responding to negative thoughts in my head with the same uplifting advice I’d give my sister.

Sometimes it also means seeing in the mirror that little girl who I used to be—the little girl who always did her best and wanted nothing to more than to have someone hug her and tell her it was good enough. It’s my job to do that now.

It’s all of our jobs.

Today, give yourself the consideration and kindness you’d extend to the people you love. If you’re dissatisfied with your progress, remind yourself of all you’ve accomplished. If you made a mistake, cut yourself from slack. If you’re tired, take it easy.

All the goodness you put out into the world starts with how you treat yourself.

Photo by AlicePopkorn

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Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Laura Fenamore

“As long as you make an identity for yourself out of pain, you cannot be free of it.” -Eckhart Tolle

I grew up in what looked like a happy, all-American household—eight children, a dutiful housewife for a mother, and a father who was both a janitor at my school and a member of the Knights of Columbus and American Legion.

However, in the background, terror lurked. My father, verbally and physically abusive, terrorized us every day. Even after growing up, taking back my life and moving across the country, I still wore my victim story like a badge.

“I am so screwed up because of my father,” was the subtext of everything I ever shared about my childhood.

Some years ago, I was having lunch in Los Angeles with my friend Paul, going over all the horrible things that had happened to me in my life.

Suddenly Paul said to me, “Laura, how long are you going to tell that story and be a victim of that story?”

I was shocked. I responded, “You don’t understand!  This man—my father—tried to ruin my life!” and, “You don’t understand what hell I’ve been through!” and, “You just don’t understand!”

He said, “I understand. I just want to know how long you are going to tell the story.”

Fortunately, beneath my initial reaction, I knew he was right. It was in that moment that I realized I’d been going through my life thinking I was earning purple hearts for having the worst childhood story.

The truth was that my story was holding me back from healing. I had this sad core belief that my story made me friends by getting people to pity me.

In reality, my defining myself only by my pain was actually pushing people away. My suffering was leading me nowhere. Click Here to Read More…

by Lori Deschene

“Begin doing what you want to do now. We are not living in eternity. We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand-and melting like a snowflake.” –Francis Bacon, Sr.

The other day I planned to work out in my apartment community’s fitness center after I finished writing. But when I left the coffee shop, and walked straight into a bright, sunny day, I felt the last thing I wanted to do was stare at a magazine on an elliptical machine.

What I really wanted to do was pull out my bike from where it had been resting for months and do a little exploring.

Immediately, I began making excuses in my head as to why I shouldn’t do this.

I’d get a better work out on the elliptical. That’s what I’d planned to do—and it’s good to stick with plans (a weak argument, I know). It would be hard to get my bike out of the closet under my stairs, where it was wedged in with other stored items.

Suddenly I realized I was talking myself out of doing something I really wanted to do.

This may seem like a little thing, but I believe the little things are the big things.

It’s the tiny choices we make about how we spend our hours that dictate how we spend our lives—whether we get out and enjoy what’s in front of us, or make excuses to do what we always do, or what we planned to do.

And this type of thinking can obviously impact the things we traditionally consider big—the choices we make and the risks we take in our personal and professional lives.

If we’re not self-aware, we can end up making all kinds of excuses to not do what we want. We can tell ourselves it’s unwise, or impractical, or unrealistic, or pointless, or laughable, or risky, or inadequate.

We can tell ourselves we’re unsure, or unprepared, or uncommitted, or untalented, or incompetent, or too busy, or too distracted.

We can rationalize that it’s too late, or we’re too old, or it’s too soon, or we’re too young. And we can convince ourselves it doesn’t really matter.

Except it does. Whether it’s a tiny choice or a big decision, if it’s something we want to do, it matters.

Happiness is when we recognize that, dispute our own defeatist excuses, and then get out there and enjoy instead of holding ourselves back.

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Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Clay Andrews

“Man stands in his own shadow and wonders why it’s dark.” ~Zen Proverb

After my ex-girlfriend and I broke up several years ago, I never felt more alone in my life. I hung up the phone with tears streaming down my face as I stepped into my new reality.

I only had one friend in the world, who happened to live fairly far away, so most of my newfound singlehood was spent alone.

It was difficult for the first few weeks due to all the painful emotions that usually come with a break up, but after a while the pain went away.

Usually I could keep a positive attitude and project the appearance was all okay, but truth be told, I was a very lonely person back then.

Sometimes, a coworker or some acquaintance would ask if I was seeing anyone to make conversation. I told them that I was taking a break from dating for a while to heal from the break up.

However, I really had no idea how to meet people. After being in a relationship for seven years and losing touch with a lot of friends, my social skills were pretty much nonexistent. I wanted to meet people, make new friends, and date, but I really thought I was just incapable of doing it.

At one point the loneliness just overwhelmed me. I was walking down a street one night. As I was passing by a busy restaurant, I looked in the window and saw so many people at quiet, intimate tables sharing smiles and conversations over candle light.

Suddenly I just couldn’t take it any longer. My mind became flooded with all of these thoughts like “Why is it never me in there with someone else?” or “Why am I always alone? Is there something wrong with me?”

Before I know it, I was crying right there, while walking down the street.

It all just seemed so futile. What was the point of living if I didn’t have anyone to share my life with? Click Here to Read More…

by Lori Deschene

“The possibilities are numerous once we decide to act and not react.” –George Bernard Shaw

As you may have noticed, I’m a huge movie buff. It’s largely because most films chronicle a hero’s journey, taking a character through all stages of transformation.

There’s recognition of the need to change, there’s fear, there’s resistance, there’s encouragement, there’s struggle, there’s redemption, and in the end, there’s rebirth, and a sense that things will keep getting better.

Recently I noticed something about the way I experience movies: I generally end a film with a strong desire to do what the main character has done.

After I saw Dolphin Tale, I dreamed about spending time with dolphins. After I saw We Bought a Zoo, I imagined life would expand in amazing ways if I, too, could own a zoo. And after I saw The Big Year, I seriously considered bird watching, even though I’ve always believed this hobby to be as exciting as watching paint dry.

What I realized is that it’s not these specific hobbies I want (though I do, in fact, love animals)—it’s the passion, connection, and growth the characters experience as a result of undertaking them.

I think that’s what we all want: we want to feel alive. We want to feel like part of something bigger than ourselves. We want to care about something that excites us, intrigues us, and challenges us to reach deep down and be the people we know we can be.

In many ways, Tiny Buddha provides that for me, as your blog may for you, if you have one as well.

But even though technology provides us with the opportunity to connect with more people than ever before, there is no replacement for hand-to-hand engagement and experience in the world.

There is no journey like the one we take together, literally step by step, outside our doors, out of our heads, and guided by our hearts.

I don’t know yet what I want beyond the world of written words.

Maybe you don’t know where you’re going either, and maybe that’s okay. Maybe we don’t need to have an exact plan. We just need to know we want to start that journey—to wade into a world of discovery prepared for all the excitement and uncertainty that come with doing and growing.

Today I’m taking a tiny step by researching yoga teacher training. What small step can you take today to create new possibilities?

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