“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 know 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

“The problem is not that there are problems. The problem is expecting otherwise and thinking that having problems is a problem.” -Theodore I. Rubin

There are times when things get complicated and it has nothing to do with the choices we’ve made.

Sometimes everyone around us needs us for different things, right as our work is becoming more challenging, and we’re feeling confused about what we actually want to do with our lives.

Sometimes we receive medical or psychiatric diagnoses—and possibly both at the same time—right after being laid off and losing our health insurance.

Sometimes we feel we’ve made headway with emotional wounds from the past, only to find ourselves feeling challenged by the smallest of triggers and uncertain if we’ve made any progress at all.

Try as we may to eliminate the debt, responsibility, unhealthy relationships, and anything else that may cause us stress, life may never be simple.

We may always have different challenges to address in our lives. But maybe simplicity isn’t eliminating problems; maybe it’s learning to embrace them, face them, and grow from them, instead of seeing them as something to resist.

Perhaps “simple” has nothing to do with the circumstances in our lives, and everything to do with the mindset we foster in accepting and responding to them.

There are certain problems that need solutions more quickly than others. There are certain events that may seem more overwhelming than others.

We can either approach these situations with a sense of dread and anxiety, assuming we have no choice but to respond this way; or we can find our center, take it all one step at a time, and recognize that whatever happens, we can handle it and learn from it.

We can’t change that life will be complex at times, but we can cause ourselves a lot less pain by accepting that, instead of fighting it, questioning it, and wishing we could change it.

Life will inevitably involve challenges; and sometimes they’ll work in our favor. Problems allow us to create, innovate, and stretch both ourselves and the world we know.

The question isn’t whether life will ever be simple; it’s whether we’ll recognize all the opportunities within the complexities and find the strength to seize them.

What problem will you embrace today?

Photo by Paralog

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

I’ve recognized that I come to my computer to write for one of two reasons:

Either I feel the need to explore something that’s relevant to my life, and in doing so, start a conversation about it; or there’s something bothering me that I haven’t fully addressed, and I’m hoping the conversation will make me feel better about it.

Last week an old friend wrote to congratulate me on my book. She started the email by joking that she wouldn’t “sell my secrets if the tabloids called.”

Though I doubt she was referring to anything specific, this struck a nerve with me because I’ve shared a lot of my personal experiences, but there are some stories I haven’t told.

Some of them I’ve worked through and simply don’t want to share; others I haven’t completely addressed, and I’m still working through them privately.

After I read her email, I started to write a post about the difference between authenticity and transparency. I realized three paragraphs in that my sole intention was to receive confirmation that I am not a fraud for keeping certain things to myself.

So I decided to sit with this, and give myself the reassurance and acceptance I hoped you’d give me.

I realized then that this same idea applies in everyday life, as we engage with other people and, consciously or unconsciously, look to them to give us what we’re not giving ourselves.

If we’re feeling down on ourselves, we may look to other people to validate us. If we’re feeling drained, we might look to other people to give us permission to take a break.

If they don’t give us what we need, we can end up feeling frustrated, and direct that at them. Ironically, even when people say what we think we want to hear, it tends to fall flat if we don’t truly believe they’re right.

What makes it all the more complicated is that we don’t often realize we’re doing this. It’s far more comfortable to search outside than it is to look within.

But if we want to fully feel the warmth of light, we need to first access our own. That starts with asking ourselves: What do I really need—and how can I give it to myself?

My book blog tour for Tiny Buddha: Simple Wisdom for Life’s Hard Questions has come to an end! Check out the final stops: A video interview on The One Question and a review on Prolific Living.

Photo by Wonderlane

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

Have you ever purposely chosen to do something you felt resistant to doing? I do this occasionally because I recognize I sometimes limit myself by being inflexible.

I can be a creature of habit, particularly when it comes to situations that make me feel in control.

For example, I have one specific spot where I like to sit when I work in the Starbucks near my apartment. It’s right by the window and sufficiently removed from the chaos of the line.

It’s the best lit spot, and it’s both private and ideal for people-watching, since I can see the entire room and the passersby outside. When this seat is taken, I sometimes feel hesitant to stay.

Yet I consistently make myself sit and work wherever there is open space, despite my instinct to leave, because this is a mini test in acceptance—and there are many areas of my life where my controlling instinct affects far more than where I work.

Every time I simply sit wherever there’s space, instead of indulging black and white thinking, I release my rigid grip on the ideal and get better at accepting and making the best of what’s in front of me.

Not everyone deals with my control issues, but we all have areas where we limit ourselves in life.

Maybe you avoid certain situations if you think you’ll have to wait because you know you get impatient. Or maybe you steer clear of events where you’d meet new people because you know you’ll feel vulnerable or awkward.

If you don’t feel the desire to improve in these areas of your life, then by all means do what you always do. But if a part of you wants to feel less limited, you can likely find abundant opportunities to practice doing things differently.

Life presents us with countless mini tests if we’re willing to take them. Each one is an opportunity to let go of the way we usually react and embrace a new way of being.

Today I challenge my instinct to be rigid and controlling. What test will you accept today?

Photo by Ton Haex

“Always concentrate on how far you’ve come, rather than how far you have left to go.” -Unknown

Though I write a lot about mindfulness, focusing on here and now, there’s something empowering about looking back and realizing how far we’ve come. I’m not just talking about our big accomplishments. I’m referring to the many tiny personal victories we often achieve without taking time to honor them.

The other day, after I arrived at my local coffee shop to work, my computer died. No battery, no power from the cord, no explanation—and no backed up files.

I have an entire unpublished book in my saved documents. Forget for a minute how foolish it was to not have saved this somewhere else. (I know!)

What mattered to me in that moment was that I did not freak out. I did not catastrophize as if it were a person I love who died, not just a computer. I didn’t need someone else to drive me to Office Max so I could have a panic attack in the passenger seat. At one point, I would have.

Once upon a time, when anything went wrong, I fell apart.

Responding calmly, for me, is a huge victory. So I decided to stop and celebrate that, to rejoice in how far I’ve come.

Life is always going to entail challenges, both expected and unforeseen. We can choose to measure our progress based on the circumstances we’ve improved—the benchmarks, the goals, the professional successes. There’s nothing wrong with recognizing the big external changes we’ve created.

But we can also celebrate our many personal successes—those times when we respond better and more wisely to a difficult situation than we would have years ago—and in doing so increase our odds of finding a solution.

My computer wasn’t completely dead. It turns out the battery and the cord both need to be replaced. There was a solution, but I was prepared to accept and deal if there wasn’t one, instead of getting down on myself.

So today I honor how far I’ve come in maintaining my composure when things go wrong. In what area of your life have you made significant progress, and have you taken time recently to celebrate it?

Photo by Jan Kromer

“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.

“If you learn from a loss you have not lost.” –Austin O’Malley

Earlier this year I spent dozens of hours and nearly $1,000 on a new feature for this site. Due to some misunderstandings between me, the programmer, and the designer, things didn’t turn out quite how I intended.

Ultimately, I decided to cut my losses and focus my attention somewhere else. I knew I might revisit this feature down the road, but that would require more time and money, and at first that bothered me.

I finance the site independently, and I’m not rolling in cash, so it felt like I’d just thrown away resources that I could have used somewhere else.

It was tempting to dwell on mistakes I had made, and harp on the mistakes that weren’t mine.

Eventually I realized absolutely nothing good would come from that line of thought—but something good could come from the loss itself. It might not have been the best investment for the site, but it was a solid investment in my education.

I learned about clarifying my vision upfront, and communicating it to a team. I learned about expressing expectations clearly, and ascertaining that it’s possible to meet them. I also learned a lot about the tech side of things that I previously didn’t know.

Framed from that perspective, suddenly it didn’t seem like a total loss. If we’re honest with ourselves, I suspect we’ll realize that very few losses are.

If you lose a relationship you value, you could ascertain that you lost your chance at happiness—or you could decide to learn from that experience to open up to an even healthier relationship in the future.

If you lose a job you enjoyed, you could decide that you’ll never know that satisfaction again—or you could appreciate the opportunity to start a new adventure with the knowledge and wisdom you gained from your last.

If, like me, you lose money through an investment that didn’t pan out, you could feel indignant and bitter—or you could learn to make smarter investments in the future so that one short-term loss can ultimately lead to long-term gain.

From jobs to loves to dreams to hopes, we’ll inevitably lose things we treasure in life. Whether or not we gain something through each experience is entirely up to us.

Photo by brewbooks

“A man’s errors are his portals of discovery.” -James Joyce

When you were little, did you ever rip up a picture you’d worked really hard on just because you colored a little out of the lines?

I was that girl; and I had a similar experience this weekend.

I decided to make lasagna for this potluck party my boyfriend and I were going to host. I don’t cook often, so this felt like a big deal. I got all the ingredients the night before, stacked them on the counter, and then admired them. They were the pieces of my saucy masterpiece to be.

The next day, I realized I’d made several mistakes, including buying the wrong type of noodles and failing to buy a bowl large enough for the massive cheese concoction.

Since oven-ready lasagna noodles don’t break easily, I went through an entire box trying to perfectly fill in all the gaps in the pan. When my lasagna ended up looking like the food equivalent of Charlie Brown’s sad Christmas tree, I seriously considered tossing it out, even though there wasn’t time to buy ingredients for another.

I decided instead to push through my perfectionist instincts because this has been a pattern in my life: start something and quit if I think I’ve messed it up.

Last week I wrote about the beauty of starting over, but as with everything in life, it’s not universally applicable. Sometimes we need to start fresh, but sometimes we need to keep going, through the messiness and imperfection. I haven’t always done this well.

When I’ve made huge mistakes with friends, I’ve wanted to hide or bail. When I’ve messed up royally with jobs, I’ve wanted to call in sick or quit.

It can feel vulnerable to be present in a situation where you feel you’re struggling or not showing yourself in the best light, but this is how we grow: by stretching ourselves through discomfort instead of shutting down.

This is how we get closer to others, closer to our dreams, and closer to the people who we want to be. It’s how we learn about ourselves and identify areas for improvement.

Things are going to feel messy and imperfect lots of times in life. We can either resist that and run whenever things feel out of control, or lean into the mistakes and learn from every one.

Photo by renaissanechambara

“Our lives improve only when we take chances and the first and most difficult risk we can take is to be honest with ourselves.” -Walter Anderson

One of the biggest challenges in my life has been understanding when I’m doing something because I want to, and when I’m doing it because I’m scared to do what I really want to do.

I am someone who can easily spend huge chunks of time alone. I enjoy eating out by myself, sitting solitary in parks to people-watch, and roaming around my neighborhood with only my internal monologue for company.

As a writer and a naturally inquisitive person, solitude often suits me.

Except for when it doesn’t.

Once upon a time, I isolated myself to hide from life and its inevitable pain. If I want to live a fulfilling, balanced life, I need to be highly self-aware about when and why I choose to be alone. I need to ask myself, “Am I choosing this for joy, or is it coming from fear?”

I suspect we all need to ask ourselves this question from time to time.

Are you choosing not to go out to that networking event because you’d genuinely rather do something else—or is it because you get nervous when you have to talk about your business? Did you decide to drop out of that class or club because you didn’t like it—or did you quit because you felt like you were out of your league?

It’s tempting to lie to yourself, especially when it allows you to stay in our comfort zone. It’s much easier to believe you just don’t want something than it is to acknowledge you’re really terrified.

But we owe it to ourselves to ask the probing questions that stretch us outside our safe boundaries.

We deserve to experience all the situations and adventures we dream about. But we can only do that if we’re honest with ourselves about what we really want—and if we’re brave enough to challenge our instinct to do what feels easy and safe.

Photo by McD22

“In this world of change, nothing which comes stays, and nothing which goes is lost.” -Anne Sophie Swetchine

I used to make a wish whenever it turned 11:11. It was something I started doing with friends in high school, and I kept doing it in college, a time when I depended on magical thinking to get me through difficult days.

I remember when my first long-term relationship ended, after three tumultuous years. I felt like I lost a part of me—the best part, to be more specific. My saving grace was the hope that we’d eventually get back together, if only I never gave up.

Night after night, at 11:11, I’d wish that he’d come back. I don’t know if I really believed this would influence what happened, but it made me feel a little less powerless. Ironically, every time I expressed this longing, it was like adding another two-ton link to the chain that kept me stuck.

One night, out of nowhere, I wished for happiness instead.

While I recognize that wishing for happiness and creating it are two different things, this was an epiphany for me. Suddenly, I realized that what I really wanted wasn’t my old relationship. I wanted to feel good, and until that moment I assumed I needed to be in that relationship to do that.

I thought I’d lost my chance. I hadn’t—I just lost that one possibility.

There’s something incredibly empowering about realizing that what we really want doesn’t require us to cling to specific people and things—that we can experience the feelings we want over and over again in different relationships and circumstances.

Suddenly, the world seems more expansive and individual losses seem less catastrophic, because we know that no matter what, all is not lost. We can and will feel happy again.

Instinctively, we are going to get comfortable with the people and situations we love. And we’re going to want to fight for them. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. It keeps us passionately committed to who and what we believe matters.

But loss is undeniable part of life. Embracing that means realizing that every time we let go, we make room for something else. All is never lost.

Photo by mbstock