“Feelings are real and legitimate.” -Unknown

One of the most frustrating things in the world is feeling something painful and having other people tell you that you shouldn’t be upset.

That it’s no big deal that relationship didn’t work out, or that opportunity didn’t pan out—that it’s all in your head, so you should let it go, suck it up, and move on.

A while back, a friend of mine got fired from a new job after her first day. We were out in a group when she got the call, and several of us watched her emotions slowly build to gut-wrenching tears.

Naturally, everyone wanted to console her, but that quickly turned into a rapid fire succession of reminders that it really was no big deal—no one died—and she shouldn’t feel so crushed.

I understand it can be helpful to put things in perspective, and I know there were good intentions behind those words, but I found myself wondering if it ever helps to tell someone that they should be feeling something else.

No matter what someone else thinks about our circumstances and how we should respond, our feelings are not imagined.

If you’re mourning a loss of any kind, you don’t have to pretend you’re not hurt. Know that your feelings are real and valid.

If you’re missing the way things were, you don’t have to pretend you’re not sad. Know that your feelings are real and valid.

If you’ve been betrayed, disrespected, or violated in any way, you don’t have to pretend you’re not angry. Know that your feelings are real and valid.

We are only human, and we are going to have times when we feel wounded, sometimes over events that would challenge anyone’s sense of composure, and sometimes over things that may seem insignificant to everyone but us.

In those moments, we may feel an overwhelming surge of emotion without really knowing the words to express it. Maybe the key is to simply feel it, without stressing about whether that’s right or wrong, and then give ourselves some time to understand what’s going on in our heads and our hearts.

We can either judge our emotions, telling ourselves we should be stronger, or accept them for what they are, and then allow ourselves space to recognize what we can think and do to feel stronger.

Photo by The Wandering Angel

“Anger always comes from frustrated expectations.” -Elliott Larson

Before I left for my two-week holiday family visit, I asked my boyfriend to wash our sheets before I returned. I hoped to come home to a clean, organized apartment, with everything as I left it. That is not, however, how things panned out. Instead, I came home to a somewhat disorganized space and a pile of dirty towels—along with an empty refrigerator.

My boyfriend told me he’d been busy, and he didn’t have time to do all the laundry or go food shopping. I translated “I didn’t have time” to mean “I assumed you’d do it when you got back.”

At first, I felt annoyed. I thought, “I wouldn’t leave laundry for you,” “I would have bought at least some staples in case you were hungry,” and a few other righteous gripes about his domestic shortcomings.

I was going to let him know it’s not okay to take me for granted, but then I realized something: I was assuming his actions meant that, when they may, in fact, have only meant exactly what he said—that he got backed up and didn’t have time.

So instead of expressing my dissatisfaction with the expectations he didn’t meet, I expressed exactly what I felt: “When you say you don’t have time to do things around the house, I sometimes assume you expect that I will do them.”

He responded, “I don’t expect that at all. I expected I would do them later tonight. I know you’re busy too.”

This right here, I suspect, is the cause of most conflict in relationships: one person does something or doesn’t do something, and the other makes assumptions about what it means.

I have done it many times before—assumed the worst in someone I love because they didn’t do what I would do. But this rationale fails to consider that other people have different ways of doing things, and they have no idea what meanings we’ll assign when they choose to do things their way.

They also can’t know precisely what we expect unless we express it. I asked my boyfriend to wash the sheets, and he did. But more importantly, he’s a thoughtful, considerate person on the whole, and this one incident was not a big deal in the grand scheme of things.

We have a right to communicate when we feel hurt or offended, but maybe love is learning to be hurt and offended less often. The people we care about are generally doing their best—love is recognizing that instead of assuming the worst.

*I added this to the comments, and I decided to add it here: For anyone reading this who feels an overall sense of over-compromising–and as a result sacrificing their needs and losing touch with their values–please know this post is not for you.  This post is for anyone who, like me, is in a happy, healthy relationship, romantic or otherwise, but gets annoyed by little unmet expectations here and there. 

Photo by torbakhopper

“Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to a better understanding of ourselves.” ~Carl Jung

The other day someone I love, who we’ll call Tania, got in a massive fight with her boyfriend. She called me to explain the situation, and ultimately got frustrated because I wouldn’t agree that he was not only wrong, but also a jerk.

The next day, she and I had a disagreement that ended with her yelling at me. When I discussed this with someone else who loves us both but frequently clashes with Tania (not my finest decision), she quickly turned on Tania, calling her a jerk.

One hour later, I received an email from someone who wanted to let me know she got my book as a gift, but would never have bought it for herself because it wasn’t about Buddhism and was, therefore, pathetic.

It was an emotionally draining day, but in this moment I stepped outside it to think about the reductionist instinct.

It’s when we fail to consider complex factors, and instead reduce a situation to one simple explanation—in these cases, one harsh judgment.

Maybe you’ve been there before. Someone hurts you deeply, and you decide they did it because they’re a bad person. Or someone says something that threatens a belief you hold dear, so you decide they’re ignorant.

It’s easier to label a person or a thing than it is to look below the surface, and look within to understand why we’re reacting so strongly. That’s not the most comfortable thing to do.

I know I’ve been there before. For me, it often happens when I feel someone isn’t prioritizing me. This can make me start doubting myself—but it’s far easier to label that person as selfish or inconsiderate than it is to acknowledge that I’m feeding into old insecurities.

Other people aren’t perfect. None of us are. People will make mistakes sometimes. At other times, they’ll do things we simply don’t agree with, and it will be tempting to make them wrong so that we can feel good about being right or better about being hurt.

But all this does is create a world of people accusing each other to avoid looking within. Ultimately, those are our choices: assume the worst in other people, or understand why we feel the instinct to do it, and in doing so, bring out the best in ourselves.

Photo by AlicePopkorn

“If you let go a little, you will have a little peace. If you let go a lot, you will have a lot of peace.” -Ajahn Chah

It’s hard to feel peaceful if you dwell on why you should be angry. If you want to feel free, let the story go.

It’s hard to feel good if you feel like you deserve to feel bad. If you want to feel happy, let your self-judgment go.

It’s hard to feel satisfied if you feel like everything needs to be perfect. If you want to feel content, let your perfectionism go.

It’s hard to feel balanced if you like you need to be busy. If you want to feel centered, let the pressure go.

It’s hard to feel relaxed if you’re clinging to fear or anxiety. If you want to feel at ease, let your worries go.

It’s hard to feel loved if you mistrust everyone else. If you want to feel connected, let your suspicions go.

It’s human nature to cling to things that don’t serve us from time to time. But every moment is a new opportunity to let go and be free. Take a deep breath and let go.

Photo by gtall 1

“The most important thing in this world is to learn to give out love, and let it come in.” -Morrie Schwartz

There are some people we feel we’ll never understand. They make choices we’d never make, they don’t understand why we do what we do, and they don’t give us what we need in our relationships with them.

Vegetarian author and advocate John Robbins had a man like that in his life. That man was his father, and the thing he didn’t know to give was love.

I saw John speak this weekend at Bonfire Heights, the retreat I mentioned yesterday. His father, Irv Robbins, co-founded the ice cream company Baskin Robbins, and lived a life dominated by the pursuit of more.

Irv believed children should be seen but not heard, and fathered with an authoritarian coldness. In fact, years later, after Irv held his autistic grandson—the first time he ever held a child—he asked John, “Do you think all children need love, or just those kind?”

John could have unleashed a lifetime of bitterness for a childhood without warmth and affection. But instead he saw his father for who he was in that moment—an old man from a different time, who was open to learning a different way.

Years later, when Irv was on his death bed, John repeatedly kissed his forehead as morphine dulled his final pain. Irv asked John why he did that, and he responded, “Because I’m showing my love.”

Irv responded, “That’s been important to you, huh?” Followed by, “Less pain!”

To which John responded, “More love.”

Then Irv said, “Less pain!”

To which John responded, “More love.”

When John kissed his forehead one more time, Irv released and fully accepted it, even saying, “That felt good.”

John said, “Less pain?” The last words he ever heard his father say were “More love.”

Sometimes the people who need our love the most are the ones we may feel deserve it the least. We can make that judgment and stay bitter—or we can actively contribute to making the world a more loving place. Less pain, more love.

Photo by Mara Earth Light

“Love is saying, ‘I feel differently’ instead of ‘you’re wrong.’” -Unknown

I’ve written a lot of posts about compassion these past few years, challenging both myself and readers to be open-minded and see things from others’ points of view.

On almost every post, someone has commented that there are times when other people are, in fact, wrong–when the person who cut you off in traffic really is a jerk, not just having a bad day; when the friend who hurt you actually had cruel intentions, and didn’t just make an innocent mistake; or when the person who sees things differently is truly misinformed, as opposed to holding a varied, but different opinion.

I think we sometimes fear losing our sense of self and self-respect by giving other people too much leeway. If we give the benefit of the doubt one time too many times, we may start to feel like a door mat. Or if we consider other people’s perspectives too seriously, we may risk losing the beliefs that help us make sense of the world.

If we continually refrain from identifying people as right and wrong, we may find it challenging to hold onto the ideas that feel right to us. And that can be a scary thought, particularly when many of us wrap around our identities around our beliefs and understandings.

But maybe it doesn’t have to work this way. Maybe we can define the conduct we believe to be good and kind, without assuming we know people’s intentions, thereby labeling them right or wrong when they stumble. Maybe we can decide and honor what we believe and allow other people the same freedom, choosing not to be threatened if they see things differently.

Maybe loving ourselves is feeling secure without having to convince other people we’re right; and loving other people is wanting to understand instead of wanting to tell them they’re wrong.

Today if you feel tempted to point out the error of someone’s ways or beliefs, ask yourself: Would I rather argue and create pain, or agree to disagree and maintain peace?

Photo by the gardenbuzz

“Beware of the half truth. You may have gotten hold of the wrong half.” ~Unknown

The other day, a friend told me how his previous relationship fell apart. His girlfriend failed to disclose a major resentment based on a misconception, and instead initiated a series of arguments over little things until their relationship eventually collapsed under the weight of all that confrontation.

I explained how I practice radical honesty with my boyfriend. Essentially, I disclose everything I think and feel about him that I have trouble resolving in my head, knowing full well most of it has more to do with me.

There are times when I feel annoyed with him, but later discover I was actually angry with myself. There are times I get frustrated with him when there’s nothing he’s done–I’ve just had a difficult day. And there are other times when I doubt him, but soon realize I misinterpreted what he did or said.

A lot of people swallow these passing thoughts and judgments, or push them down to avoid making unnecessary waves. But I’ve found this can eventually lead to a tsunami of emotion when you finally crack and unleash all these unspoken grievances. They become a list of reasons to justify the distance you’ve been creating.

The alternative is to acknowledge what you’re feeling, knowing full well it may have more to do with you than him or her, and in doing so maintain intimacy and trust.

It’s really about being honest with yourself. It’s about recognizing that your mind can play tricks on you sometimes. It’s about realizing that you can be far more rational when you look at your emotions objectively. There may be times when it isn’t all on you–in those situations especially, it’s best to communicate what’s on your mind.

The truth may not always feel polite. It might make you feel vulnerable. It might feel ridiculous to express–which is precisely why it’s so powerful do to it. The best way to free yourself from resentment is to work through it and let it go.

Photo by mhaller1979

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

As I’ve been preparing my presentation for the Wanderlust Yoga and Music Festival, I’ve been watching a lot of powerful speeches related to my topics of authenticity and connection. I found my way to Dr. Brené Brown, who researches vulnerability.

In her inspiring talk, Brené explains how shame can be one of the biggest barriers to connection. If you believe there is something wrong with you—that you are somehow unworthy—you may hide who you are in fear of being judged and rejected.

This is why I spent most of my early and mid-20s completely isolated. Because I felt overwhelming shame for mistakes I’d made, and I believed that they defined me, I chose to fester in a prison of my own making to avoid people’s judgment.

Though I have now joined the land of the social, there are still times when I think my true feelings are an admission of weakness. I get a lot of emails from readers who seem to feel the same way—that they shouldn’t be feeling angry, or frustrated, or hurt, or whatever. They think they should be stronger or more evolved than that.

This only exacerbates the pain because you pile guilt on top of the initial feeling.

There is no shame in having emotions. And as Brené points out, it’s nearly impossible to numb the uncomfortable ones without also diluting the positive.

If we want to know joy, elation, excitement, and everything else that makes life worth living, we need to give ourselves permission to feel the full range of emotions. And if we want to connect with each other, we need to accept and love ourselves in every moment, even when our truth feels heavy.

Today if you start judging what you’re feeling, remind yourself: Everyone deals with difficult feelings. What separates us is what we do with them.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X4Qm9cGRub0

“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.” -Mahatma Gandhi

Someone wronged you. Maybe they treated you thoughtlessly without your feelings or best interests in mind. Or maybe they hurt you with full awareness in a moment of anger or frustration.

Your pride’s bruised, and your expectations destroyed. Why should you extend compassion to them when they didn’t offer you the same? Why should you reach out to them when you’re not the one who was wrong?

You could easily come up with a laundry list of excuses to stay righteous and unyielding. Unfortunately, no one benefits when you fester in anger, bitterness, or negativity–least of all, yourself.

It takes tremendous fortitude to acknowledge we all make mistakes and let go of your pain. The alternative is to hold it close to your heart, where you can feel right and hurt over and over again.

What kindness can you extend today to someone who awaits your forgiveness? If you feel resistant, why? What keeps you from forgiving?

*This was originally published on 9/17/09. Photo by mhaller1979

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

Sometimes admitting that something is over can feel like defeat. After all, we hear a lot of messages that tell us to never give up–to hold on and keep fighting at all costs.

But if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll know when it’s time to move on.

You’ll know when a relationship no longer serves you, and you’re just staying because you’re too scared to leave. You’ll know when a job no longer makes you happy, but you’re staying because you think it will be hard to find something else. You’ll know when a business idea didn’t work, and it’s time to cut your losses and start the next thing.

Somewhere inside you, you always know.

You just have to stop ignoring the symptoms of your awareness or discontent, and decide it’s time to let go–of the relationship, the friendship, the job, the hobby, the idea, the religion, and in some cases, the illusion of something that you never even had to begin with.

Today if you’re unsure whether you should hold on or let go, create space and stillness and then ask yourself: If you were fully honest about your motivations and needs, and not letting your fear choose for you, which choice would you make?

Now all you need is the strength to make it. So the real question is: Are you strong enough to choose for your happiness?

Photo by zedmelody