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

by Lori Deschene

“It is astonishing how little one feels alone when one loves.” ~John Bulwer

If there’s one thing we all want, it’s to feel loved.

We want to feel deeply connected to other people, fully seen and appreciated by them, and secure in those relationships.

We can have a million and one acquaintances online, but if none of our connections feel intimate and meaningful, we will ultimately feel alone.

There’s actually some interesting research that shows we tend to value physical possessions less when we feel loved and accepted by others, because relationships can provide a sense of comfort, insurance, and protection. They truly are the most valuable things in our lives.

I remember when I completed my last promotional tour. It’s something I used to do for work—travel around the country promoting products at sporting events, concerts, and retail locations. I chose this career partly because it seemed adventurous, and partly because it allowed me to distract myself with constant change and motion.

Although there were more than 20 people on the tour, I frequently stayed in separate hotels because my responsibility was to care for the tour dog, and the group often stayed in places that didn’t allow pets.

I’d just decided to leave NYC shortly before this job, after slowly climbing out of years of self-loathing, depression, and isolation. I wanted nothing more than to make real friendships, but I simply didn’t know how.

I saw it happening all around me. I saw women forming bonds that I knew would last for years, while I frequently felt awkward and insecure. I saw romantic relationships blossoming, while I had a superficial fling with someone I hardly knew, who hardly knew me back.

Though I was trying to open up to people and create space for them to open up as well, I still felt alone, love-deprived, and terrified that these feelings would endure. As a consequence, I frequently sabotaged myself and potential connections. Click Here to Read More…

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

“We love because it is the only true adventure.” ~Nikki Giovanni 

Last night I sat with an old friend who has recently broken up with his girlfriend. He’s sad. She’s sad.

I don’t think it was time for them to give up yet; he’s exhausted and disagrees. He says he thinks that he just loves to love. When you love to love, he says, it’s impossible to separate the act of loving from the person that you’re actually supposed to love.

He thinks that he’s too much in love with the idea of love to actually know what he wants. And so, he argues, giving her another chance would be futile.  

I know what he means, because I love to love, too.

When I met my boyfriend, Chase, I thought I had been in love before. In fact, I was positive of it. I had built a life out of a dating and relationship blog—of course I had been in love before.

There was only one relationship that stood out from the masses of little flings, and for a time, he was my world. We met in college (although he wasn’t in school, a sign of different horizons that would eventually be the pitfall of our short-lived romance). And we developed our own little cocoon which quickly meant everything to me.

I had grown up with a happy home life, two parents that met, fell in love, and then stayed together. I had an (albeit naive) perspective that when you meet the right person, you fall in love, and that’s that.

I never doubted him for a minute; this was what was supposed to happen. I trusted it, the process of companionship, and I let myself settle into having someone.

After only a few short months together, he said he needed to move since he could no longer afford to live Boulder, where I was going to college at the time, so we made the decision to move in together. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Shan Jeniah Burton

“You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.” ~Friedrich Nietzsche 

I was raised in a home where a very common phrase was, “There’s a right way and a wrong way.”

The right way was the way my parents wanted things done. There were a great many rules surrounding the right way for nearly everything, in an attempt to ensure that we got it right, and, when the rules weren’t enough to enforce the rightness of our behavior, there were punishments, harsh words, and sometimes very public humiliation.

I’ve spent most of my adult life learning to deal with the fallout of this type of ingrained thinking, once important for emotional survival and physical safety, but no longer useful.

I work, now, to examine the precepts I live by, and whether they are helping me toward my goal of living a peaceful and conscious life. But there can still be some pretty huge blind spots in my view of things—places where I, myself, still expect those around me to conform to my concept of what is right. 

Three years ago, when I began to practice the base principles of radical unschooling, I fell headlong into one of these traps. It caused a great deal of pain, and nearly cost me my oldest and dearest friend.

We altered the way in which we interacted with our children from an authoritarian style to a partnership model. And I decided I would be a missionary for every other family who showed a glimmer of dissension (as all families, even mine, do, sometimes).

I had found a piece that was missing from the puzzle of my own life, and I was awed by the rapid and wonderful changes I saw within my family once I placed it.

I hadn’t yet learned that zeal and epiphanies in our lives can also be pitfalls; that not everyone will benefit from what benefits us. I was certain my way was perfect and even necessary—for everyone. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Sarah Fertig

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

I will never forget the moment my marriage ended.

My husband and I had fought the night before, about many of the same things we’d been fighting about for the entirety of our four-month marriage.

He was dissatisfied with our sex life and my lack of respect for him. I was struggling with bipolar disorder, changing medications, going back to school, and trying to please a man who seemed to find fault with everything I did.

During that fight, he choked me twice to prevent me from screaming and running away. I learned quickly that if I didn’t want to die, I would have to go limp, submit to his power, and hope he would release me from my position, pinned face down in our bed.

When I woke up the next morning, my spirit was broken. I felt as if I had a terminal disease. I knew with great certainty that I would die at the hands of my husband, I just didn’t know how long it would take.

When my husband woke later, he wasn’t satisfied with my newly submissive attitude. Another fight ensued, but this time, he used a different tactic. He insulted me, cutting me to the core with a comparison to a person who had caused me a great deal of pain and anguish.

As it turns out, my spirit had not been fully broken. The tiny scraps that remained rallied together to propel me out the door of our apartment. I ran screaming down the street like a mad woman, banging on a stranger’s door and calling a friend to activate an escape plan.

I collected my dog, moved back in with my mother, and got a lawyer. Our divorce took seven months, almost twice as long as our marriage lasted.  Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Ana S.

“Why worry about things you can’t control when you can keep yourself busy controlling the things that depend on you?” ~Unknown

Relationships end; everyone knows that. The tough part is actually dealing with suffering, accepting, letting go, moving on, and processing a whole lot of other feelings at the same time.

Six months ago my ex-boyfriend decided to end our relationship because he couldn’t forgive me for a mistake I made.

During the first weeks of our break up I decided that it would be best if I just gave him some time to think things out.  I accepted the consequences of my error and decided not to pressure him.

I knew it was my fault we were in this mess, and he was suffering from my wrongdoing (which didn’t involve infidelity).

After a month we saw each other again, and he told me that he could not forgive me for what I did—that my mistake meant that I didn’t love him and had never loved him throughout our three years together.

I asked for forgiveness. I asked for a second chance. He told me he couldn’t trust me anymore and couldn’t risk getting hurt again. I accepted his decision, and started moving on with my life.

Two months passed, and one night he called me. He told me that he missed me terribly and wanted to see me. The next day we went to Starbucks.

He told me he couldn’t stop thinking about me, that he compared every woman with me, and that he wanted to give “us” a second chance. But then he told me he was too scared to fully commit to me and that he wasn’t sure what he wanted. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Madison Sonnier 

“To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived, this is to have succeeded.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

I used to refer to myself as a white crayon in the coloring box of life.

Have you ever wondered what purpose a white crayon serves? There are all of these other beautiful colors to be put to good use, but the white crayon just kind of sits there and tends to get overlooked.

That’s exactly how I felt. I felt like I was just merely existing and not serving any kind of purpose. And at the time, I sort of wasn’t.

I wasn’t doing anything except coming up with demeaning nicknames for myself, and trying to swallow the fact that I might never be of any importance in the world. I honestly felt like I didn’t matter at all.

I thought that in order to feel like I really mattered or that I was doing something worthy enough, I had to be doing something big—something that everyone noticed and applauded me for.

We live in a society where the little things we do often get overlooked and it has a way of making us believe that those things don’t matter.

They do.

Compassion, understanding, small acts of kindness, or a willingness to simply reach out to others in any way can all make a huge difference.

I want to share a few real life examples of little things making a big difference, including my own story in which I realized this fact.    Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Monna McDiarmid

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

What if we lived the way we travel?

It’s been my experience that we let go of many things when we travel. I’d like to propose that those things—the things we loosen our grip on while travelling—are things that don’t need to be held quite so firmly.

1. Notice. Slow down. Reflect.

San Miguel de Allende is one of my favorite places on earth. I’ve visited nine or ten times. If asked to describe heaven, I’d say that it was a long weekend in San Miguel.

After a gorgeous night’s sleep in Room number eight, I’d start to see things differently. I’d become absorbed by the way the golden light fell across our bed. I’d notice the specks of dust in the light shaft, like tiny astronauts travelling between the earth and the sun.

In the town, I’d observe the dogs walking on the shaded side of the street and follow their example. Everything in my path seemed beautiful and noteworthy: the way that rain drops hit the cobblestone streets, the crayola-colors of folk art in store windows, and the markets that smelled like cheese and chicken feet.

We sit at a cafe, content to drink limonada, and people-watch for hours.

We rarely do this at home because we believe there are very important things that must be accomplished, and that we can’t waste time at cafes. Vacations help us understand that we’re not quite as essential to our workplace as we thought. They’re getting by just fine without us.

Noticing leads to slowing down which allows us to reflect. We spend time observing the shape of things. Life exhales and rolls out ahead of us. We dream. Click Here to Read More…

by Lori Deschene

“Human life runs its course in the metamorphosis between receiving and giving.” ~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

This past week I simultaneously experienced some of the strongest physical pain and immense joy I have ever experienced. While the former has everything to do with the six-inch incision in my abdomen, the latter revolves around a number of lessons about willfully receiving.

As I wrote last week, I had my myomectomy surgery on Tuesday to remove a soccer ball-sized growth in my uterus. On Monday, it occurred to me I’d appreciate reading uplifting notes from the community, but a part of me wondered if it would be tacky to explicitly ask for them.

After all, I’d already received many emails from concerned readers who took the time to reach out. Furthermore, I’ve always written that this site is not about me; would it really be wise to dedicate an entire post to seeking attention and support?

Despite my concerns, I decided to do just that, because I knew it would make me feel good. That it did, when I realized on Wednesday that hundreds of people had commented on my blog post, sharing stories and links to videos that made them smile.

That same day, when my doctor came to see me in the hospital, she looked at me with kind eyes and a loving smile, and came close to give me a hug. Despite my post-operative frailty, she gave me a real one—the kind that felt strong and just long enough to mean something. I simply melted into it. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Lisa Tully

“There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle, or you can live as if everything is a miracle.” ~Albert Einstein

One of the key ways to bring about greater harmony and peace in our lives is through understanding—looking at a situation and taking the time to put ourselves into the minds and hearts of others.

And the key to understanding begins with the seed of compassion. Sounds so simple, right? So why don’t we do it?

As people living in the west, we can sometimes be in too much of a rush to be kind—particularly when we’re dealing with deadlines and pressures.

Can you think of a time when you brushed passed a certain situation and later regretted it? Feeling afterward that somehow you should have lent a helping hand, no matter how big or how small?

In Northern India I am very fortunate to have what I call my Tibetan family within a monastery there. The monks have welcomed me into their world, and as they go about their daily business, I’m right there with them spending time.

The benefits of this unique and special opportunity range from attending wonderful sacred events to sitting watching TV together as they serve me momos (dumplings).

One night, while relaxing with the monks after a nice meal, I received a late call and learned that my cat back home in London was sick.

The monks stopped what they were doing—one was even dragged back out of bed—and did an impromptu prayer session for my furry friend without a second thought.

There they were, five of them chanting away. It blew my mind, because it demonstrated to me that they understood my fears and concerns and held my cat’s health in great importance.  Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Anne Sophie Reinhardt

“No duty is more urgent than that of returning thanks.” -James Allen

Recently, my mom told me that my beloved piano teacher had passed on. She had reached a high age and died peacefully in her sleep. This news, delivered to me via Facebook, hit me harder than I could have prepared myself for.

Sitting there in front of my computer, I remembered the circumstances of my meeting her. Originally, it was because my sister wanted to learn how to play piano.

It was by pure chance that I decided to go with her for her first lesson and I instantly fell in love with the teacher. She was the same age as my grandma, which was great because back then younger people terrified me. We hit it off right away.

I must have been around thirteen years old back then and I was in a really dark place of my young life. My eating disorder, which I had developed at the age of about ten, was starting to get more serious.

I lost weight rapidly and my exercising got out of hand. I was a shadow of myself and I was terribly insecure and weary of life.

Spending one hour a week with this unusually large, brilliant lady was like my sanctuary. When I closed the door of her tiny piano room, I knew I was in a safe place.

She listened to me when no one else did. If I showed you my piano skills today, you’d agree with me that we probably talked more than we practiced playing. Being with her was like the counseling I desperately needed.

I treasured each and every moment with her. I was more open to her about my anorexia, about my problems with the family, and my terrifying fear of my brother than I had ever been with somebody else. I trusted her. No matter how caught up I was in my illness, I never skipped a lesson.

Then, I went to the US and our ways separated. Over the years, I would hear frequent updates of how she was doing and I would send her the occasional letter.

When driving by her house, I would make a mental note to schedule some time for a visit sometime in the future. I never did.

My piano teacher had often told me that she had seen the vulnerability in my eyes and my posture when we first met. She saw that I was a broken soul and she knew that she was there to guide me and to help me through some of the hardest years of my life. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by C. De Lima

“Uncertainty is the only certainty there is, and knowing how to live with insecurity is the only security.” ~John Allen Paulos

Over the past ten years, I always had a man by my side. I was always in a relationship.

I was in a relationship for eight years before my ex and I got engaged, then broke it off because of the distance—my ex’s reason. Not long after that I got into a two-year relationship with a man who loved, yet cheated on me. It was a messy break up.

So after ten years in relationships, I found myself alone.

I’m 31 and single!

Recently some questions have bounced around in mind: What happened to me during those years? What did I get, gain, achieve in these two relationships? Why am I now alone? What will I do? How do I do things by myself?

Now what? Where to start?

I started to panic, to hyperventilate—until I found this quote:

“Single is not a status. It is a word that describes a person who is strong enough to live and enjoy life without depending on others.”

Yes I am scared. I was so used to sharing everything. I was so used to having someone around.

But the reality is I am my own person, and if I can’t enjoy being single, how can I enjoy being with someone else?

So I started reading about being single, and interviewing other happy single people. Surely I wasn’t the only 31-year-old person who felt uncertain about her new singleness. I needed to find proven ways to be happy as a single adult woman.

In my research, I learned some important truths about being single: Click Here to Read More…

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…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Ken Wert

“If you want others to be happy, practice compassion.  If you want to be happy, practice compassion.” ~Dalai Lama

I had an old trench coat that was balled up on the floor of my garage gathering dust near the washing machine. It was raining. It was unusually cold (for California, anyway).

I was driving home when I saw a man in a short sleeved shirt wandering through our neighborhood, pushing a shopping cart. He was walking painfully slow. He was dripping wet.

I paused at the intersection to my street and watched him for several minutes, thinking. My heart was heavy seeing him move so slowly, so wet, so cold. I suddenly remembered the crumpled-up coat. But what if I needed it sometime in the future? A story I had once heard at a church conference came to mind.

An Inspiring Story of Kindness

Two boys walked down a road that led through a field. The younger of the two noticed a man toiling in the fields of his farm, his good clothes stacked neatly off to the side. The boy looked at his older friend and said, “Let’s hide his shoes so when he comes from the field, he won’t be able to find them. His expression will be priceless!” The boy laughed.

The older of the two boys thought for a moment and said, “The man looks poor. See his clothes? Let’s do this instead: Let’s hide a silver dollar in each shoe and then we’ll hide in these bushes and see how he reacts to that, instead.” Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by C. De Lima

“Love yourself—accept yourself—forgive yourself—and be good to yourself, because without you the rest of us are without a source of many wonderful things.” ~Leo F. Buscaglia

In 2009 I traveled to Perth, Western Australia to further my education. Little did I know how much my life would change.

I befriended lots of people, mainly international students since I lived on campus. It was here I met a tall, gorgeous man from South Asia. Though he was not the type of guy I normally dated, I fell for him anyway.

It was our happy fun time in 2010.Then, in early 2011, I sensed a change.

It’s funny when you are in a relationship with someone. You can feel when something just isn’t right. 

I had that feeling.

You see, ever since we became a couple, we could talk about anything without feeling judged or embarrassed. We were happy, so when suddenly he changed and became very private, it raised an alarm in me.

It turned out he was having an affair—not just with one, but with two women at the same time. The pain, the hurt, the humiliation, and the numbness that came afterwards were unbearable.

I literally forced the truth out of him. I knew it would hurt, but I had to know his reasons.  How could someone with a kind heart cheat on a person and create a new relationship based on a lie? Questions bounced around in my head for months.

Eventually I forgave him, and so did the others. But unfortunately for me, I let myself stay in this drama.

I latched myself to him—literally lost myself—while feeling confused by his conflicted feelings toward me, between “I want you” and “I don’t.” Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by linnaea bohn

“There is no Love greater than Love with no object. For then you, yourself, have become love, itself.” ~Rumi

I have spent most of my life as a professional, half of that in Asia: managing a division of a company, doing long-term meditation retreats, and establishing cottage industries for impoverished refugees.

A long-term relationship was impossible since Asian men marry Asian women; European men had European wives and Asian lovers.

Along the way I thought I could give more value to the world by remaining single than being married with children.

I met a woman working at the UN who had raised a family. She suggested another scenario: there is a man who would love to join me in this endeavor.

We could raise children who also want to make a difference, thus making a bigger difference. I just had to find him.

She introduced me to a man who did want to make a difference while living in remote areas—exactly what I enjoyed. However, he wanted a wife to live in a city to raise his children, someone of the same ethnicity.

When I returned in 1998 to live in the US after 18 years in Asia, I experienced reverse culture shock. How people lived their lives (working non-stop at a job they did not like), what their priorities were (money, stuff, and power) and especially how they related to each other (networking to sell stuff, or to find a better job), was antithetical to my way of life. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Alexander Dunlop

“Love is what we were born with. Fear is what we learned here.” ~Marianne Williamson

Valentine’s Day. Yes, that day—the much maligned, much cherished, much hated, and much misunderstood day of the year.

I remember being traumatized in adolescence. Not only were we supposed to, according to peer-reviewed social norms, like people and get liked back on this holiday, my school made us do Valentine’s day card/candy exchanges.

We exchanged, in class, little pre-packaged cards and those infamous heart-shaped candies stamped with subtle expressions like “be mine.”

Do you recall these candy hearts that I’m describing? They come in variety packs, taste like chalk, and have words stamped on them like “marry me” and “real love.”

How traumatizing it was for me to pick the right heart to give to the right person in my class—I didn’t want to give the wrong person the wrong heart—and then, for the one girl I did have a crush on, to sheepishly hand her the candy that said, “kiss me.”

Part of the trouble was: Which candy heart to give to my friends that wasn’t too sissy or too heart-wrenchingly sappy? Certainly the one that said, “let’s cuddle” was not the right one.

But the worst part was feeling bad for the loner who didn’t get any candy exchanges and frantically trying to dig up one to give him that didn’t say “hottie” or “crush on you.”

And then after giving him something, having him give a candy back that said “best friends forever.”  (Which now I find touching, as I write this. But, at the time, only found it to be extremely disconcerting.) Click Here to Read More…

by Lori Deschene

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

The winners:

• Catherine
• Alexsiss

An old friend once told me that women frequently say all the men they’ve dated have been jerks; and men frequently say all the women they’ve dated have been crazy.

You could chalk this up to gender differences, men being from Mars, women being from Venus and all that. But maybe there’s more to it. Maybe it’s actually our biology that influences how we act and interact—and why we often repeat unhealthy patterns with our romantic partners.

In her book, Rewire Your Brain for Love: Creating Vibrant Relationships Using the Science of Mindfulness, Marsha Lucas explains how our inner workings can sabotage our relationships, and how we can change that through meditation.

According to Rick Hanson, PhD, reading Rewire Your Brain for Love is “like having a best friend who is both savvy about the brain and a world-class therapist.”

I haven’t yet finished this book; I’m publishing this interview today because this is the official launch date. Based on what I’ve read so far, I can say with absolute certainty this is the most fascinating, helpful relationship book I have ever read.

Both educational and insightful, Rewire Your Brain for Love explains why we struggle in matters of the heart, and exactly what we need to do for healthier, happier relationships.

The Giveaway:

To enter to win 1 of 2 free copies of Rewire Your Brain for Love:

1. Leave a comment below.

2. Tweet: RT @tinybuddha Book Giveaway and Interview: Rewire Your Brain for Love http://bit.ly/yCvNBJ

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 February 5^th.

The Interview:

1. What inspired you to write this book?

The inspiration came from seeing the changes in my psychotherapy patients when mindfulness practice was added to the mix. It was sometimes a challenge to get past the resistance some people had to meditation—my psychotherapy office is just a half-dozen blocks from the White House, so I see a lot of people who are very intellectually-driven, “show me the evidence” folks with no room for any “woo” stuff.

It was a whole lot easier when we talked about the neurological bases of relationships, the peer-reviewed research coming out of neuroscience labs at universities they respected, and about this simple, well-documented practice that they could use to create actual changes in the brain—and that those changes support healthier, more successful relationships. Approaching it this way made it a much more empowering choice for them.

Writing the book came out of my wish to share this with more than just the people I could see in my psychotherapy office. On the micro level, I want more people to have the healing experience that healthy relationships offer. At the macro level, my wish is to be a part of helping create a world that’s driven more by empathy than by fear.

2. Why do we need to rewire our brains for love?

Unfortunately, lots of us didn’t have an optimal experience of healthy, attuned attachment in that early, critical time when our “relationship brains” develop (mostly before age 2).

By the way, it’s not necessarily about really bad experiences—it can be subtle, passed along by well-meaning parents who may not have had that optimal experience themselves.

And because of the way our brains develop, those very early experiences aren’t readily accessible through memory or insight, so it’s difficult to get any traction just by trying to think or “will” our way through.

If you can change that wiring, though—and mindfulness practice seems to help a great deal with that—then you can have a brain with better neural pathways that creates and supports better relationships.

3. Your book focuses on making improvements in our relationships with other people. Can we also rewire our brains for greater self-love?

Absolutely! I’d go farther to say that improving your relationship within yourself is the first step to being able to have better connections with others. I think of the practice of mindfulness as a way of cultivating more loving, compassionate relationships with everyone, and that includes you.

4. Is traditional meditation necessary to rewire our brains for love, or are other mindfulness practices equally effective?

The mindfulness practices that I’ve used to the best effect in my work (and that are in my book) are from the insight-meditation tradition. That approach has (in my view) the most compelling neuroscience research to date supporting the types of changes that I talk about and see in my work.

Other forms of contemplative practice are also being studied. They all definitely have benefits—and I’m very interested in seeing more about their benefits to the brain.

5. Can you talk a little about the seven “high-voltage” benefits of practicing mindfulness?

The “high-voltage” relationships benefits get me really excited, so much so that they form the framework of my book.

First thing to know: there are essential characteristics seen in people who had healthy, attuned childhood relationships—characteristics that bode incredibly well for their ability to have healthy relationships as adults.

Now, add to that: Those same characteristics are seen in people who practice mindfulness.

Then, to top it all off: the latest scientific research has increasingly been showing that these characteristics are associated with areas of the brain that change as a result of mindfulness practice.

I’ve found that the most helpful way to think about these characteristics is to group them into a list of seven acquirable skills. (Yep: acquirable.)

• Better management of your body’s reactions
• Improved regulation of fear
• Greater emotional resilience
• Increased response flexibility
• Improved insight (self-knowing)
• Deeper and clearer empathy and attunement—within yourself and with others
• Perspective shift from “me” to “we”

Daniel Siegel, MD, a Harvard-trained psychiatrist and an expert on childhood attachment was the person who first made me aware of the connection between these documented and compelling characteristics of well-being, seen in people who grew up with healthy, attuned attachments, and the brain structures and pathways shown to change with mindfulness practice.

I’ve been seeing the results confirmed through my psychology practice, in myself, and in the lives of my friends and colleagues. Very, very cool.

6. I know a lot of people who stay in unhealthy relationships, constantly looking for ways to “fix” them. How can one recognize when the problem is faulty wiring and when it’s best to walk away?

My first response is to share an anecdote from a friend of mine, Gay Hendricks, who’s also a psychologist: A middle-aged man came to his first therapy session, and talked about how lousy women were—he presented a long list of women in his life who’d just used him. Close to the end of the session he leaned in and quietly said, “But y’know… I’m beginning to wonder if it might have something to do with me.”

We all have our relationship wiring issues—our own styles of attachment that developed early on. In part, mindfulness practice helps you increase your capacity to look at your relationship patterns with honesty and self-compassion (not excuses or blame). That’s necessary whether you’re going to stay in the relationship or end it. Otherwise, you end up staging the same play with the same script over and over again, whether it’s with the same actors or new ones.

7. In Chapter 8, you explore empathy and how you misunderstood it when you were younger. I saw myself in your words, as I had the same experience! Can you tell us a little about what empathy is and what it isn’t—and why it’s important to our relationships to understand the difference?

Healthy, balanced empathy is a tough one for a lot of people, especially those whose role in life leans heavily toward helping others. It’s easy to get lost in the feelings and needs of the other person, and end up not holding on to any empathy for yourself—and that often leads to feelings of burnout, resentment, depression, all kinds of un-fun stuff.

My take on empathy is heavily influenced by the way that Frans de Waal, PhD talks about it—he’s a world-renowned primatologist and director of the Yerkes Living Links Center at Emory University, and he looks at empathy as an evolutionary advancement. As you go “up” in evolutionary terms, there are increasingly developed levels of empathic abilities, starting with the kind of “emotional contagion” that you might see in a herd of zebras, on up to through being able to take someone else’s perspective (though as Frans points out, psychopaths are good at this, too).

Where many of us get off track is taking it to the next level, empathic perspective taking—what is s/he feeling and why might that be? And what am I feeling in response, and why might that be? If you lose sight of either one, you’re more likely to react out of old, unhealthy relationships habits—what can be called “autopilot.”

Empathy’s not just about insight, and not just about feeling—it’s about an integration of those, happening in the space between you and your partner. Or, between you and more people in your community, however large that community may be—we’re all in this together, after all.

Choosing to cultivate more empathy doesn’t mean losing your own integrity or point of view—it just means that you’re no longer governed by lower-order, fear-based reactivity. Now that’s empowering!

Learn more about Rewire Your Brain for Love on Amazon.

FTC Disclosure: I receive complimentary books for reviews and interviews on tinybuddha.com, but I am not compensated for writing or obligated to write anything specific. I am an Amazon affiliate, meaning I earn a percentage of all books purchased through the links I provide on this site.

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Roger Horn

“We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly.” ~Sam Keen

I heard this story the other day about the collection of homes called Favelas surrounding Rio De Janeiro.

If you aren’t familiar with them, they are a large collection of small run-down homes built on the side of the hills surrounding the city. They scatter and protrude across the landscape like paper litter in the tall grass along the highway.

The conditions can be poor, and unsanitary, often with raw sewage running down the side of the hill where the houses are built. Many people live right across from houses that sell drugs or prostitution. Even reaching the houses is difficult, with the only options being a treacherous road or walking up as many as 800 stone steps.

When a man who was giving a tour of the area was asked if most people living there are poor and have no choice but to live there, the reply came back “No.”

Many people work, make a descent living, and choose to live here. In fact, he explained, he himself lives there.  That begged the question: why not move out if you can?

The man answered, “Because my life is here, my friends, my family. I love it here.”

I thought to myself, how could anyone love it there? How could anyone love those houses, love that neighborhood, those living conditions?

But then I thought, what does it mean to love something? What does it mean to be loved by someone?

You see, growing up, and most of my life up to this point, I don’t think I’ve understood this. Love is, for most of us, what the world says it should be because that’s what we’ve been conditioned to believe. That’s what we’ve been taught.

Love is a frantic kiss and a firm embrace at the end of a Hollywood movie.

Love is what you should feel when you see a beautiful model wearing exquisite clothing rocketing away on her motorcycle in a crisply baked marketing ad.

Love is what you want to feel, what you want to have, how you want to look, and how others should look. If I had that, if I looked that way, if I had that girl for a girlfriend, I would love it—because I would be loved. 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 Tim McAuley

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

At some point during 2005 I discovered the sense that I am connected to everything; that nothing exists outside of me. This realization came while surfing with a friend of mine. From that moment, surfing became a religion for me.

I sat on top a surf board about 100 yards off the sand, just a little north of the San Onofre Nuclear Power Plant in San Clemente, California for hours on end every single day.

At some point during each session the endorphins would kick in. My mind would empty and I would relax. The best word to describe it would be bliss.

Off the surf board I spent most of my time at the public library reading books about the human experience—history, psychology, religion, and spirituality. Each morning as I sank into this blissful state I allowed the information to pour over me in a manner that Thich Naht Hanh called Dharma Rain. I just breathed deeply and joyfully as my mind filtered information looking for truth.

I could have easily stayed in that state of bliss had I not needed to go to work, or interact with most of the people around me. I’ve never been much of a joiner. Monkhood was off the table.

I tended bar just a few nights a week. I had been sober for nearly a year, but rarely became thirsty even working. It was a means to an end, and it afforded me more free time than any other job out there.

Tending bar also brought into focus the idea that all I observe is a reflection of me. I owe most of real growth “spiritually” not to the texts, not to meditation, and not even to surfing; I owe it to my time slinging drinks. Click Here to Read More…