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

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Kylie Springman

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

Pushing has always been the way I get things done.

Actually, I should be more specific: pushing myself harder has been the way I get things done.

I grew up believing that life was hard, and that the only way to survive was to give up indulgences, buckle down, and trudge forward. Uphill. Against the wind.

In my small, suburban high school, I spent hours after my classes ended wrestling with quadratic equations.

I had the overwhelmingly generous help of my teachers, who tutored me for free in their after-school time. I had the patience of an incredibly gifted best friend to accompany me at study sessions.

Still, I felt alone in it all. I cried (weekly, probably) over math and science. Other subjects came easily to me, but the black-topped tables of the science classroom consumed my experience of school. I still remember how smooth and cold they were under my elbows.

I continued on to college at one of the most expensive private schools in the U.S., sinking into student loan debt with every lecture. When depression swept me away during my first college semester and my grades suffered, the only solution I saw was to work harder, to sleep less.

The results weren’t good: I exited the school year with deepening depression and a blossoming eating disorder.

It seemed the harder I tried, the worse things got.

Over the next several years, things improved, though I still didn’t feel like I had much control over my life. Happily, I fell in love at first sight with the prettiest (and kindest) girl I’d ever seen, and she shone her light into many of my dark corners. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Andrea Wren

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

When I bought my car, I visited only one showroom. I’d made the decision that this was the car for me in around one hour, and chose not to spend more hours or days of my time going from one place to another to check other deals and different cars.

If I hadn’t have found this car, I would have gone to another dealer. However, I’ll never know if I could have saved money by haggling elsewhere, and I don’t care.

I’ve had my trusty and reliable vehicle for over six years now and so far, I’ve never had to pay more than general maintenance and upkeep. So it was worth every penny.

You may be shocked that I made such a large and important purchase in this manner (and I’m not a wealthy person by any means). But I was confident it was a good deal when I found it and it’s never let me down.

I now make most of my purchases like this. I’ll give myself a single option (like shopping at just one store), or will limit them (such as browsing four vacation brochures instead of fifteen), and once I’m happy with the decision, I’ll stick with it.

Why? Because I think too much choice is stressful. And you can quite literally send yourself crazy with it, like I did.

Choice anxiety!

At one time, my need to “shop around” and my desire to keep options open before making decisions was bordering on obsessive. I dithered. I wore myself out. I got confused, and even anxious, when I needed to buy stuff, even if it was just a new winter coat. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Jennifer Boykin

“Instead of complaining that the rose bush is full of thorns, be happy the thorn bush has roses.” ~Proverb

I am a member of a mercifully small subset of society. I am the mother of a dead child.

Twenty years ago, my daughter Grace—my first child, my only girl—was born prematurely and died 32-minutes later. As I write this, I am astonished that it has been twenty years since I met my daughter for the only time.

Time stopped for me when Grace took her last little breath. And I was certain that my life could never start again. 

I was wrong.

Here’s what made all the difference in my healing:

Over time, I learned to bless the thorns in my life. I began to see that the thorn and rose define one another. Since, one cannot exist without the other, we can only enjoy the rose when we embrace the thorn.

As a society, though, we make healing from loss very difficult. We unintentionally tell each other lies about suffering and the healing process.

One of those lies is that “Time heals all wounds.”

If time healed all wounds, why do so many people suffer their entire lives from things that happened decades ago?

As one of the bereavement experts I studied explained, it’s not “time” that heals all wounds. It’s hard work. And hard work takes time.

Here is some of the hard work of healing: Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Sam Russell

“Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future.” ~Paul Boese

I’m trying to meditate but I find myself overcome by sadness; I’m still grieving after all this time.

I’ve gone through phases of forgiveness recently that have shown me how to acknowledge the painful relationship I had with my mother, the anger and resentment we shared, and the loss of each other that we both went through the older we grew. Maybe it’s not as bad as that, but it feels like it.

My reflections have brought me closer to the woman who I never took the time to understand because we were both so volatile and weighed down with our problems; I’d shuddered when my family would say “You’re just like Mum,” but now I smile because I see how true it is.

I yearn for a stable life, just like her; I live with chronic illness, mental and physical, just like her; I escape into creativity, just like her.

We differ too.

I’ve decided to do something about my anger. I’ve taken steps to open my heart. I’ve learned to forgive and be forgiven. One thing I’ve not done yet is grieve. I lost my Mum.

I lost her gradually through my life in that I didn’t ever feel like we were mother and daughter, more two people living together who spent every day treading carefully, trying to avoid eye contact and arguments.

And then four years ago she died. She’d been sick for a long time and I knew it was coming. I’d prepared myself from a very young age for that cold January afternoon, for when I’d hear the news that she was dead. I was at once free and cut loose.

I lost the person who, if I had only opened myself up, would have protected me to all ends, even if she didn’t understand what I was going through. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Melissa Moore

“Some people think it’s holding that makes one strong—sometimes it’s letting go.” ~Unknown

My mom leaned in and gave me a goodnight kiss. The only light illuminating her face was coming from the hallway. I looked up at her, and in the confidence of the dark confessed, “I saw it.”

“It” was my birthday present, waiting patiently for me to wake up in the morning and claim it from its place in the garage. “It” was a turquoise blue Stingray bicycle with a white pleather banana seat and an extra tall sissy bar.

I’d seen it by chance, tucked back in a dark corner, and knew instantly it was for me.

I couldn’t stop myself from ruining my mom’s surprise. I just couldn’t contain my joy. That bike was the answer to my 10 year-old dreams.

And I wasn’t disappointed.

My new bike was the coolest mode of freedom I could imagine. It took me to the local pharmacy for candy and back to the school playground to meet up with my friends. Like an addict, I lusted for the feeling I got from riding past the Skerkoske’s house, Marcia Brady hair blowing in the breeze, singing “I Think I Love You” at the top of my lungs.

Riding something so beautiful gave me all kinds of cocky confidence. I was fearless. Within days, I was pedaling through the neighborhood, arms waving madly in the air, shouting “Look at me world!  I’m riding with no hands!”

I let go without ever calculating the risks involved.

Fear crept up on me gently, a part of the ever expanding feeling of responsibility that came along with growing up.  

Or maybe I’d heard “Hold on to that bike young lady! Do you want to end up in the hospital?!” one too many times. Whatever the cause, the magic of my turquoise blue Stingray was no longer enough to make me feel invincible.

I grew afraid of falling off.  Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Stephen Schettini

“We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.” ~Kenji Miyazawa

I love my wife, so it stung the other day when she said, “Hmm … You’re going to have trouble letting me go, aren’t you?”

She’s not walking out on me. You see, she has multiple sclerosis (MS), and she’s referring to the day she can’t walk any more. She’s convinced herself that she can’t handle the guilt of ruining my life, and expects me to leave when she says so.

I knew Caroline had MS when I married her. I also knew I loved her.

And I knew from experience what it was to live in a loveless marriage, hoping against hope that if you work hard enough at it, things will turn around. Of course, there is an element of work in marriage, but it’s got to start with chemistry.

I fell in love because of our chemistry. Yes, physical chemistry—she’s a real beauty—but I’m not talking about that, either.

We care about the same things, like honesty and depth and clear insight. And we don’t give a damn about the same things, like having loads of money or achieving great, big visible success.

Still, we live well, eat well and enjoy fine wines. However, Caroline’s turning into a bit of a homebody as her legs grow less reliable. Her car’s being fitted for a hand-operated brake. She had a bit of a scare recently, so it’s time.

They say you don’t die from MS, you live with it. Well, they can say what they like. Those are words; we live with the reality.

Most of the time Caroline’s full of life, charged up by her work as a personal life coach and filled with the satisfaction of seeing eye-popping changes in her clients’ lives. Still, MS is a chronic, degenerative illness. She’s gone through all the scary attacks of temporary blindness, vertigo, and electrical storms in her body, weakness, profound fatigue and inexplicable pain.

She avoids medications. They’re no cure and the side effects suck. Her mood is usually good, amazing actually. She has a bright outlook on life, and is a great wife and mother.

When I say she inspires the hell out of me, I’m not just being polite. Being with her has changed my life. Click Here to Read More…

by Lori Deschene

Important Note: The winners for this giveaway have already been chosen! You can purchase Tiny Buddha: Simple Wisdom for Life’s Hard Questions on Amazon.com. Also, be sure to subscribe to Tiny Buddha for free daily or weekly emails!

The winners:

• DeniseJane2010
• Cd_at_aspenacres
• Printpopceo

Happy almost 2012!

It’s been an exciting year for Tiny Buddha. For one thing, the community has grown, but what I find most exciting is that the number of people sharing their stories and engaging with other people has increased exponentially.

During the first year, I published two posts from the community per week. In January of 2011, submissions slowed down, and I wondered if perhaps I’d need to take a new direction with the blog.

In February, however that all changed, and posts started coming in so frequently that I was able to publish one per day, and oftentimes had to ask people to hold off on submitting so that I could catch up.

That has remained steady all year, and I’m excited to see that countless insightful, helpful, loving conversations have unfolded in the comments, some which included me and others that did not.

Tiny Buddha is what it is because people are willing to be honest about their experiences, and in doing so help others and let them know they are not alone. If you haven’t already, I hope you’ll contribute a post in 2012!

I have learned so much for everyone who has shared themselves here. So here are the top 10 insights of 2011 (based on page views and comments): Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Cat Li Stevenson

“Each time you stay present with fear and uncertainty, you’re letting go of a habitual way of finding security and comfort.” ~ Pema Chodron

Being the thought-out planner with a neatly plotted road map—and a compass tightly gripped in one hand, pointing due north—I cringe a bit (okay, a lot actually) at the thought of changing direction, being adventurous, and going off the beaten path.

I’ve purposefully designed my external life for security—the cushy job, maximizing the 401K, additional streams of income to insulate the extra-super-comfy-security, a large home for a future family, long-time childhood friends, and a solid marriage.

I am deeply grateful for all of these and, on most days, find pride that my focused, linear thinking has created a surrounding of comforts.

As I venture further on this journey, though, I realize that anchoring ourselves with an abundance of security can actually become a dangerous habit.

It can create an attachment that prevents us from being fully awake.

My straight-path mindset hadn’t really prepared me for an off-roading adventure. I held a belief that if I softened my resistance to allow things to go in a direction other than I had planned, this would be a mini-failure of sorts—a “giving in” to the unknown.

And the unknown, after all, is deeply rooted in scariness, signifying weakness, giving up, having no direction. It’s not secure, and far, far from safe.

Or so I had thought.

Sometimes we can be blindly walking down a path and then an obstacle, a detour, or a sharp turn appears, asking us to expand our mind and heart to see and feel differently.

This past year, I found myself becoming a security-junky of sorts, as I would not allow for an unforeseen change to enter my life.

I would stand firmly at the arrival of this unwelcome circumstance with crossed arms and a tremendous amount of resistance. I held tightly onto my compass, my road map pressed against my chest, and didn’t want to let go. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Kathryn Britt

“Life’s challenges are not supposed to paralyze you; they’re supposed to help you discover who you are.” ~ Bernice Johnson Reagon

Have you ever hung up a towel and not straightened it or folded it or arranged it in some way as you did so? Have you ever just casually tossed a towel over the towel rail?

I did that last weekend and it was a big event. I had to laugh at myself for having this obsessive quirk, but doing that was almost impossible. I was in a hurry putting away the laundry, and there were those two clean towels to be hung back in the bathroom.

I thought about just stuffing them over the towel railings—but I just couldn’t! However, when I realized how hard it was to do this, I made myself do it.

I wonder if you are the same as I am about hanging towels “correctly” every time?

When I asked my sister that question, her reply was, “Gasp! Wash out your mouth with soap!” And then she asked, “How long before you went back and straightened it?”

The towel stayed in its tossed position until I used it after my shower that night. After I got away from it after tossing it on the rail, it didn’t bother me. I soon forgot about it—the towel itself wasn’t calling me back in there to fix it.

I went to the bathroom later and managed to leave the towel as it was and just walked away again. It was a good exercise in self discipline.

I’ve learned that I can make untidiness affect me less by doing my ignoring practice, just like during the towel incident.

My partner thinks it’s hilariously obsessive to have to hang towels straight and tidy each and every time. Some people think habits like this (in others) are annoying. I wonder if it’s just as obsessive in another way to be annoyed by somebody who needs to tidy?

My partner hangs his towels nicely most of the time, although not the way I would. I have made myself get used to leaving his towel the way he last hung it—I don’t even notice it any more. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Sarah Louise Gess

“Never apologize for showing feelings. When you do so, you apologize for the truth.” ~Benjamin Disraeli”

We often experience resentment toward other people when we find it hard to forgive them and hold onto unspoken pain.

Whenever we feel we’ve been treated unfairly, judged, or wronged, we have a very powerful internal reaction.

The emotions we experience are strong. We feel them intensely and deeply, because they challenge us to reassess the self-image we hold of ourselves.

The unexpressed painful emotions we experience as a result of other peoples’ actions have the potential to transform into resentment if they are not released in a healthy, effective, and timely way.

Resentment lives inside us, feeding on our negative feelings and emotions. It becomes stronger the longer it is ignored. It can mutate and develop into a warped veil, which prevents us from seeing the world from a healthy, balanced perspective.

If left unresolved, resentment has the power to be all consuming, and is very effective at fuelling anger.

In turn, unexpressed, internalized anger is a ticking time-bomb which can lead to abusive or self-destructive behavior, or a combination of both.

Resentment is a very personal and private emotion, as it has almost no effect on the person it is directed towards.

It resides with its owner, and causes negativity and pain.

Given a conducive set of circumstances and enough time, I can experience resentment on a powerful scale. I believe this is, in part, rooted in my formative years. I was brought up in a home where expressing strong, “negative” emotions was prohibited.

I grew up believing it was unacceptable to express hurt, disappointment, frustration, or anger toward the people who evoked these very emotions in me.

By the time I reached my teen years, I had unwittingly yet wholeheartedly perfected the internalization of painful emotions. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Melanie Reno

“There is more to life than increasing its speed.” ~Gandhi

The next time I feel it urgent to text someone off Craigslist after 11pm, I may think twice.

I was obsessed with attaining the body of a fitness model. I had recently been laid off and when life gets tough, I go to work—on my abs. It’s hard to accept that I can’t sweat away my troubles or make my problems magically disappear by tightening my thighs.

I tend to be a little high-strung, and excessive exercise helps me cope. Or, it possibly just adds more fuel to the fire. Whichever it is, during this particular fitness frenzy I found myself at a Starbucks near LAX waiting for the Craigslist seller I texted the night before. He had what I needed, and at half the price.

I have since learned that when you say, “Let’s meet at that Starbucks by the airport,” both parties need to be very specific about which one “that” is.

I’ve heard stories where one person is at this Starbucks while the other is at the store two blocks down, but I never considered the possibility of mixing up three locations.

I got to the first Starbucks and looked for my seller. He said he’d be wearing a black jacket. I told him I’d be wearing workout clothes, as I’d be coming straight from my Barry’s Bootcamp class in West Hollywood. He didn’t need to know this, but I tend to give out unnecessary details.

When I opened the door to enter the Starbucks, it was the type of entry that brings with it a gust of wind – blowing everyone’s hair and rustling their papers. Since all eyes were now glaring at me, it was hard to tell who was looking because they were selling and who was just pissed off.

I felt one man looking longer in my direction than the others. I walked up to him and whispered, “Are you the guy with the P90X?” He paused for a moment and then laughed, “No, I’m not.”

If I had asked someone in, oh I don’t know, Minnesota for P90X, they would probably call the cops. In L.A., the familiarity obviously skewed high. This man knew right off that I was referring to Tony Horton’s 90-Day Extreme Home Fitness Workout DVD Program, and not a new blend of Ecstasy.

I realized what I must have looked like to that man in my gym clothes trying to score P90X from the streets. I appeared to be an obsessive fitness fiend! I was feeling pretty embarrassed when I got a text from my seller: “Running 15 minutes late. Sorry.” Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Dirk de Bruin

Life has a tendency to become overly complicated and stressful, particularly because things change so quickly. I’ve identified seven problems that you can eliminate to make your life a whole lot simpler (which doesn’t mean boring or less interesting).

Problem #1 – Too Much Responsibility

Think back to a year or two ago. How much extra responsibility has come into your life since then? You may have too much stuff, too many possessions, too many projects, and too many commitments.

Spreading yourself too thin reduces focus, increases stress, and lowers overall performance.

Too much stuff could include anything from a new cell phone, to a new swimming pool, to a bigger house. It might be nice to have more possessions and new gadgets, but they often come with responsibilities and maintenance. Ask yourself if you’re being “owned” by the things you own.

It’s also exciting to get caught up in many new hobbies or projects. I did this when I got into building websites. Before I knew it I was working on 20 projects at the same time and seeing minimal results across the board. It took me a while to realize that I was working like a maniac, yet none of my projects were anywhere near completion.

These days I’m only working on 2–3 projects in total. Not only do I feel more relaxed because it’s easier to keep track of what I have to do, but I can also see significant progress in my work month after month since I am doing less.

Try to simplify your life. Cut down your possessions, projects, and hobbies to relieve some of the responsibilities that you don’t really need to have. Click Here to Read More…

by Lori Deschene

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

The 5 winners:

• AngelKiss64
• Allen
• Laurilie
• RLDonnelly1217
• Samantha

“Sometimes we have to go right into the fire in order to find our true healing.” ~Jack Kornfield

No matter who you are, no matter what you’ve accomplished, no matter how well you’ve planned, you will deal with challenges in life. We all will. And many times, they will hit us unexpectedly.

We will all lose things and people we love. We will all make mistakes and have to deal with their consequences. We will all experience the pain of declining health, either in our own blood and bones, or as a bystander to people we love.

When we feel hurt, or angry, or terrified, or weak, we often try to numb it in one way or another—sometimes because we’re afraid the pain will break us, and other times because we’re ashamed of just how fragile we are.

We may not always remember it, but we are simultaneously strong; and no matter how many times we break down, we can grow, heal, and prosper.

In his book, A Lamp in the Darkness: Illuminating the Path Through Difficult Times, Jack Kornfield helps us access our inner calm and wisdom to do just that.

I received this resource at a time when I couldn’t have needed it more. Doctors had just identified numerous large tumors and cysts in my body, and I was awaiting test results.

After initially responding with resistance and terror, I waded deep into hours of uncertainty, where I realized my deepest pain was coming from my fears, obsessive thoughts, and ensuing emotions. Luckily, I soon learned that I’m in no immediate danger, but I know there will be other times when threats will be real—not just for me, but for all of us.

In those moments, we will need to depend on our own capacity for equanimity, even if we feel powerless and scared. A Lamp in the Darkness guides us there.

A bestselling author and renowned spiritual teacher, Kornfield weaves poignant stories of surviving and thriving with simple guidance to help us understand and work through our suffering. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Emma Brooke

“What I am is good enough if I would only be it openly.” ~Carl Rogers

I used to spend an awful lot of time worrying about people liking me. Or what people thought of me. Or what they thought of the clothes I was wearing. Or whatever.

It’s taken me a long time to realize two things:

1. Most people really aren’t even taking notice of us. (They’re too worried about what other people think of them.)

2. Of the few who are noticing us, the people who are judging us harshly are not the people we want around us anyway.

Makes sense, right?

It’s actually something I’d heard a hundred times before, but it never really sunk in.

So why had it not sunk in? What made it so hard to believe this is actually the case and that I should give up caring what people think once and for all?

I think, in simple terms, it’s built into our human nature. We’re social creatures, therefore we want to be sociable; and we think that in order to be sociable, everyone has to like us.

Otherwise we would become (gasp) social outcasts.

I recently moved from my small town to London. Capital city, UK. The big smoke (for the UK). Scary.

I decided, in my quest to try new things and get healthier, to join the gym at the end of my road.

Unfortunately, I’ve never felt quite at home in a gym. For me, it’s almost like that scene in Pretty Woman when she walks in to the designer store for the first time, and all the shop assistants look down their noses at her.

I have to admit, that doesn’t actually happen—at all. But it’s happening in my head, because in my head I also hear “You’re not as good as them,” “They’ll think you’re stupid,” and “You don’t fit in here.” Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Alana Mbanza

“No feeling is final.” ~Rainer Maria Rilke

I met him the last semester of college and was instantly attracted to him.  I was definitely attracted to him physically, but it was the way he sat in class with such quiet confidence and mystery that made me long to know him.

I practically drooled all over my desk whenever he spoke, but couldn’t even bring myself to say, “Hello.”  One night out, I saw him standing by the bar. I told my friend that I had a crush on him and she promptly gave me two choices: Go speak to him or, she would embarrass me. Needless to say, I chose the first option.

I don’t remember what was said when I approached him, and in the grand scheme of things I guess it’s irrelevant. We spent the entire evening together. He taught me how to tie a tie, he told me about his closeted love for Vanilla Ice, and we shared the most romantic evening I had ever experienced.

His affinity for Vanilla Ice notwithstanding, I fell in love with him that night.

We graduated only a few short months later and moved away from each other, but maintained a friendship over the years. We got together whenever time and space would allow.

Recently, I took a chance and revealed that I had romantic feelings for him. In a fairy tale-like manner, he flew across the country, and we made the decision to start dating. Everything was great—until it wasn’t, and we broke up.

Although the decision to end the relationship had been mutual, over the following months, I cycled through many feelings and emotions. One day I would tell my friends that I was “so over him,” and the next day I’d find myself flat on my back, sobbing uncontrollably, wondering where we went wrong.

Even today, I can’t say that I have fully gotten over the relationship, but there are a few things that have been helpful to me in the process. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Kayla Albert

“Why compare yourself with others? No one in the entire world can do a better job of being you than you.” ~Unknown

When I arrived home after a brief stint living in another state, I was anxious to reconnect with places from my childhood and the friends I’d left behind.

But while I was healing from a heart-wrenching break-up, suffering through sleepless nights on my parents rock-hard couch, and mulling over where all my freelance writing work had gone, my friends seemed to be successful, happy, and right on track.

Realizing that I had hit rock-bottom and that it crippled my self-esteem, my friends gathered around me, taking shifts to ensure that I wouldn’t drown in my own overwhelming grief.

Yet, while their love and support was what got me through, seeing each of their lives, so clearly flourishing, added another emotion to my already full load: jealousy.

Jealousy is a sneaky bugger—a pot-stirrer who likes to aid the ego in pointing out flaws you’d rather just sweep under the rug. It serves as a reminder of all the success you don’t have, the experiences you haven’t had, the relationships you’d like to have—basically everything that makes you feel “less than.”

I spent the next few months wallowing in comparisons—staring longingly at couples clutching hands as they walked down the street, watching people hustle to their well-paying jobs, and picturing myself in the beautiful homes that others had the ability to purchase.

Unfortunately, while I knew with every cell in my body that I wanted to be somewhere different doing something different, jealously kept me rooted firmly in place—a place plagued by lack and thoughts of “if only.”

Once I realized that the circumstances wouldn’t change until I did, I noticed that entertaining this toxic emotion was getting me nowhere but deeper in my hole of self pity. That was when jealousy and I parted ways, leading me to some very powerful realizations. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Henri Junttila

“Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from your own actions.” ~Dalai Lama

Self-confidence is an interesting concept.

You see, we all have ways of feeling good, bad, low, light, and peaceful. We all have triggers that tell us when to experience these states.

The really interesting part is that you can challenge how you respond to those triggers and change the strategies you use.

There have been countless times in my life where I haven’t felt absolutely confident.

For example, I used to be very shy around people. I just didn’t believe I had anything to say, so I used to freeze. I was afraid of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong people.

It felt safer to be quiet, but after awhile it got really boring—and when someone is really bored, they’re often in fear because they’ve put so many restrictions on themselves.

What helped me work through the fear and start being me was tapping into a feeling of confidence, or sometimes just another positive feeling.

It could be as simple as thinking of something that made me feel good, or even thinking about the fact that we are all human, and we are all made of the same earth.

It’s not going to happen overnight, but once you become aware of the triggers in your life, you can exponentially increase the amount of bliss you experience.

You can try to resist feeling happy all you want, but sooner or later you will start experiencing that bubbly joyous feeling inside of you, because that is who you really are deep down inside.

That is who we all are. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Amy Johnson

“When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you.” ~Lao Tzu

Pretty much everyone I know thinks they should be doing better in some way, at least sometimes.

Are you totally and completely satisfied with what you’ve done so far in life? No little part of you thinks, maybe I should have more money in the bank? Or maybe I should have a more professional wardrobe, or a book contract, or a dog that’s housebroken?

The word “should” is not exactly enlightened or peaceful. Nor is the practice of judging yourself or believing that you’re not exactly where you’re meant to be. But we’re human so our thoughts inevitably go there from time to time.

We judge ourselves. We hold ourselves to standards that someone else made up—standards that may not even make sense for our current life.

I often hear people say things like:

• “I can’t believe I’m in my 40s and still don’t have matching luggage.”
• “Shouldn’t my child be reading by now?”
• “I always assumed I’d exercise regularly after I finished college.”
• “I can’t believe I don’t have better health insurance at this stage in my career.”

I have to wonder, whose beliefs are those? Whose standards are they, really? It’s not like we wake up at 40 and suddenly crave matching luggage. Someone fed us that expectation somewhere along the way, and we forgot it wasn’t our own.

Would the mother feel genuine concern for her child’s reading skills if they lived on a deserted island? Or is the pressure external, based on what others say, think, and read, and she simply doesn’t realize those thoughts aren’t hers?

And I, too, have thoughts like these all the time. Not those exactly, but ones like them.

Like how I should be famous by now. Really. The ship has sailed for being on Oprah but isn’t someone going to beg me to come on their show?  And how I always thought that by age 34 I’d own a home with a yard, not a small condo in the city. Or how I still buy all my clothes on sale and I don’t have a decent wardrobe. And how I still say “like” and “awesome” way too much for an adult.

So it’s starting to look like we’re all in the same boat with this I-should-be-doing -better stuff.

Since it’s such a universal human issue, maybe we can make a collective pact to just stop with the shoulds? Can we collectively agree to be just a little kinder to ourselves? Can we set aside the judgments and be proud of ourselves, right this minute, not when we achieve something we haven’t yet achieved? Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Barbara Hammond

“To forgive is to set a prisoner free and realize that prisoner was you.” ~Lewis B. Smedes

We’ve all heard the saying “forgive and forget.”  It seems easy when you say it like that. The forgetting part can be daunting, though. I can say that when you let go, the memory dims. That’s a start.

I didn’t understand the importance of forgiveness until I was in my mid-forties. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve forgiven people over the years. I just never understood how it related to my own well-being.

Let’s face it, not forgiving someone for standing you up or forgetting a birthday isn’t going to weigh on you for years and inhibit a full life. Not forgiving a parent for abuses, real or imagined, can.

As with most “aha” moments, we want to share our new found wisdom with everyone. A friend of mine understood what I had just discovered. She had been abused by her father.

It took her years to let go of the anger. The hurt never really leaves, but the anger can keep you from truly living. The only way to move on is to forgive.

She told me about her father-in-law, and how badly she wanted to share this wisdom with him. He is now in his 90’s and filled with anger. No matter how she tries, he won’t let it go. Let’s call him George. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Sacha Crouch

“Criticism is something you can easily avoid by saying nothing, doing nothing, being nothing” ~Aristotle

The need for approval kills freedom.

Trust me, I know, because I spent my entire life seeking approval until I realized it was a waste of time and didn’t work anyway. The desire to get people to like me motivated the majority of my choices and actions in early life.

Queen of social chameleons, I mastered the art of telling people what they wanted to hear and being someone they would find impressive—all the while worrying incessantly about what others thought of me, fearing criticism, and holding myself back as a result.

When I first started building my coaching business, this craving for acceptance caused me to hide from opportunities where the potential for reward was high, but the possibility for criticism was equally large.

As an example, one of my first client referrals was to coach the CEO of a major corporation. It’s painful to admit that I told my client I wasn’t the right person for the job and referred the person to someone else.

My need for approval created immense anxiety about the value I provided for my clients and caused me to spend far too much time on tasks in order to perfect them.

It got to the point where I was wasting so much time and losing so many opportunities that I had to make a big decision: either let the business go or learn how to get over myself!

Fortunately I chose the latter option. I created a plan to learn to let go of needing others’ approval (well, at least letting go enough that it would no longer sabotage my success). Here I am, seven years later, running the same business with much greater ease and success as a result.

Can you relate to these issues? Click Here to Read More…