“Enthusiasm is contagious. You can start an epidemic.” –Unknown

Do you ever downplay your passions and ambitions when someone asks you about your work?

Someone asked me if I do this a while back, and at first, I said that I don’t. To know me is to know Tiny Buddha—and to hear about it often.

I’ve recognized, however, that I can be somewhat reserved in describing what I do when I first someone new—especially if I meet them in a context that does not confirm they have an interest in personal development.

Of course, this means I’m making assumptions. Just because I meet someone at a wisdom conference that doesn’t guarantee they’re more interested in personal growth than someone I meet in a doctor’s office.

Still, it’s tempting to form this conclusion to avoid potential awkwardness, particularly because I write about topics that not everyone feels comfortable discussing.

This, I’ve found, is what sometimes causes me to water down my enthusiasm: I’m too concerned with how I assume someone might respond to open up and find out for myself.

Can you relate?

Have you ever assumed someone would be bored by your work without giving them the opportunity to decide for themselves? Have you ever imagined someone would find your aspirations silly instead of taking a chance and letting them in?

Or how about this: Have you ever held back when sharing your goals with someone who seems to be successful in their field in fear they won’t take you seriously because you’re not yet?

I suspect we do these things to maintain a sense of safety, whether it’s for ourselves or our dreams.

But we limit our potential to help and be helped, inspire and be inspired, when we minimize our interests and ambitions.

You never know when an enthusiastic exchange might lead to a life-changing conversation, introduction, or opportunity, for you or someone else.

We can all do a lot of good in this world we all share together, but we first we need to be willing to share the good we want to do.

Photo by {ind}yeah

“The grass is always greener where you water it.” –Unknown

The first time I heard the phrase “the grass is always greener on the other side,” I was 12 years old—and I heard it in song.

I didn’t know at the time that this was from the play Woman of the Year, because two women in my theater group sang it as part of a musical review. Still, it made a deep impression on me.

One of the characters is a housewife, and the other is a famous TV news personality—and yet they both feel certain they’re missing out on amazing experiences because of the lifestyle they’ve chosen.

The celebrity sings, “I can see you planning picnics. That’s wonderful!”

The housewife responds, “What’s so wonderful? Eating at the White House! That’s wonderful!”

And the song goes on like this, with two women comparing their lives, and assuming the other has it better.

Back then, I felt painfully envious of my sister, who frequently won starring roles and also had a boyfriend. It didn’t occur to me that focusing on everything she had wasn’t a proactive way to create the life I wanted.

Comparing my talent to hers didn’t help me land any roles. It just made me feel inadequate—which showed in my auditions. Comparing my looks to hers didn’t help me feel better about myself. It just made me feel unattractive—which showed in the way I carried myself.

I also didn’t realize her life wasn’t perfect, and she had plenty of her own challenges.

I’ve since learned that there is always going to be someone else who appears to have everything we want, especially in the digital age, where many of us narrate all the fun we’re having through updates, photos, and videos online.

But we tend to overestimate other people’s happiness and forget that in every life, there is a little sunshine and a little rain.

No matter how perfect someone else’s life seems, they still have their own struggles. And they still deal with the natural human instinct to wonder what else is out there, and if there’s something else they should be doing.

We can either focus on other people’s perceived good fortune, or focus our energy on recognizing and fostering our own.

We do that by planting tiny seeds for joy, and then watering them with our attention.

What seeds will you plant today?

Photo by onecog2many

“The final proof of greatness lies in being able to endure criticism without resentment.” -Elbert Hubbard

Sometimes criticism can feel like a ticking bomb that needs to be disposed.

Case in point: I receive emails about every comment left on the site. While I’ll glance at them peripherally to be sure they’re not spam that made it through the filter, I generally let them accumulate so I can respond to many all at once.

But sometimes, I’ll notice a harsh criticism, and suddenly feel this need to respond to it right now.

I’m not sure if it’s because I feel vulnerable having been publicly criticized, or because I feel the need to clear up misconceptions in order to feel a sense of control, but something in me shouts, “This is bad. Do something about it, and fast!”

Replying in a timely fashion is, of course, not problematic, but reacting with a Pavlovian fear response is a whole different story—one that raises the question: What is about criticism that feels so scary?

Have you ever felt a sense of anxiety over someone else’s opinion, as if you feared it would somehow hurt you? Have you ever felt a strong need to defend yourself against negative feedback, as if you couldn’t relax until you cleared things up?

Or how about this: Have you ever been so busy responding to criticism that seemed destructive that you didn’t have time to consider if there was something constructive in it?

The reality is we all judge and criticize, if not publically, than in our heads. It’s a natural human instinct to form opinions about things. Hopefully, we have the tact to not to be cruel, but it will happen to all of us from time to time. Usually, it will only be as disastrous as we make it.

One harsh comment on this site won’t change anything in the grand scheme of things—even if other people read it, too. One harsh comment from a coworker won’t change your talent, potential, or prospects.

It never feels comfortable to be critiqued, especially if someone attacks your character or clearly misjudges your intentions. But we make the best use of our energy if we look for positive takeaways, and then challenge the voice inside that says, “Something is wrong.”

Nothing’s wrong, so long as we learn, respond calmly, and move on, feeling balanced and empowered.

Photo by Miheco

“Many fine things can be done in a day if you don’t always make that day tomorrow.” -Unknown

When I was younger, an adult I was staying with told me, “The diet starts tomorrow. Let’s eat everything we can before midnight.”

So we did. We ate grilled cheeses, leftover Chinese food, Twinkies, and anything else that called to us from her cabinets.

It was then or never, that was the message, and tomorrow would be different—which of course it wasn’t.

For years, I started each morning intending to make healthy choices, and then after failing to meet my perfectionist standards, decided to turn over a new leaf the following day.

I justified chain smoking by telling myself I’d quit tomorrow. I allowed myself to remain inert by rationalizing that the day was “ruined” because I missed my morning workout.

It was impossible to make big change because I always had an excuse to avoid making different choices.

I eventually gave up Marlboro’s and binge fests, but I still deal with all-or-nothing thinking at times, particularly when it comes to leaving my comfort zone—and if I’m not careful, it can be paralyzing.

Perhaps you can relate. Maybe you’ve rationalized that you’ll start dieting after the holidays, instead of cutting back just a little starting now. Or maybe you’ve put off looking for more fulfilling work, assuming it would be easier next week, next month, or next year, when you feel less frustrated or overwhelmed.

We delude ourselves when we rationalize that tomorrow we’ll excel at what we aren’t willing to start today. We may never feel fully prepared or confident when it comes to our ability to change—and that’s okay, so long as we’re willing to try, starting now.

That means accepting we may not do things perfectly.

We may feel like we’re making progress and then fear we’re right where we started. More likely, we will have taken two steps forward and one step back—which means we are moving forward.

I don’t believe that life is short; most of us will have abundant opportunities to experience all this world has to offer. Whether or not we actually do that is largely dependent on how we spend our time.

We can sabotage our days by imagining tomorrow will be better; or we can seize our moments by forgiving ourselves when we struggle and doing the best we can right now.

Photo by zedmelody

Note: In response to reader requests, Tiny Buddha is now on Google+! Add Tiny Buddha to a circle if you’d like to receive updates there.

“Trust your own instinct. Your mistakes might as well be your own, instead of someone else’s.”  -Billy Wilder

A few months ago, when I was creating my book marketing plan, an associate advised me to allocate resources to something that I felt certain was not a smart idea. He offered a detailed explanation for why I should do it, but I felt strongly that it wasn’t necessary.

I eventually did as he recommended because he was adamant that I should. Essentially, I decided his instincts were smarter than mine—even though this was new territory for both of us—and simply followed his instructions.

Sure enough, this investment yielded practically no return, and at first, I felt angry toward him. Why was he so persuasive, I wondered, and why didn’t he offer me additional guidance so that it didn’t end up being a complete waste of money?

I realized then that I was trying to hold him responsible, when the reality is that I am the only person with the power to follow my instincts and make my choices.

There are always going to be people who think they know what’s best for us—and many times, they will be well-intentioned.

There will be family members who think they know which career paths we should pursue. There will be friends who think they know when we should walk away from our relationships. It always seems so clear from the outside, but the reality is no one knows what the future holds and where our choices will lead us—including us.

No one can know that walking away from one job will ultimately lead to something better. No one can know that ending a relationship will prove wiser than spending time trying to work things out. And no one can change that there is an element of risk in every decision.

We can either take our risks based on other people’s instincts; or we can take responsibility for out path into uncertainty.

We can only ever know what feels right for us in a moment—not whether or not it’s the right or wrong choice to create our desired outcome. This means we need to dare to own our decisions.

We can best navigate twists and turns when we’re fully in the driver’s seat—but in order to do that, we need we have the strength and courage to steer.

Photo by sharrattsam

“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

“Your belief determines your action and your action determines your results, but first you have to believe.” -Mark Victor Hansen

In my early 20s, I got involved with a pyramid scheme that I mistook for an ethical company.

I didn’t realize it at first, but most people were only pretending to make money because they believed they eventually would.

Since the revenue came mostly from attracting new recruits, the head of my young team had rented out an office suite, largely to establish a sense of credibility. This made it look less like a risky network marketing business, and more like a lucrative career path. Of course, I didn’t realize this at the time. I wanted to believe, so I did.

On one of my first days after joining, right before a scheduled presentation with 30 potential recruits, we got kicked out of our office because of a dispute with the rent.

In that moment, I had this vision of our entire 40+ person team setting up shop in the tiny Starbucks downstairs. I grabbed all the marketing materials and overflowed with earnest enthusiasm as I told everyone, “We don’t need an office. We just need to bring our heads and our hearts!”

In the movies, this kind of thing always seems to work. Things fall apart, and yet they somehow come together simply because people care, they’re determined, and they find a way.

I learned from this scenario that we need to be discerning about what we choose to believe, and clear about why we care. But, I also realized that it isn’t naive to believe we can create miracles when we recognize our passion is our greatest asset.

In most situations, it’s not smoke and mirrors that create the magic—it truly is the people who believe in it and as a result never consider giving up on it. People run the companies. People create the brands. People change the world.

People just like you and me. It’s not a fancy office that does it. It’s not a massive paycheck. It’s not even the best laid business plans.

When it comes to building anything worthwhile, it starts with a willingness to believe in ourselves, each other, and what we can create when we have good intentions and keep going.

Photo by Scottfeldstein

“Expect the best, plan for the worst, and prepare to be surprised.” -Denis Waitley

The other day I was watching reruns of a show I’ve recently found and now love. In one scene, the main character talked about the “perfect moment” that never came to be—an isolated point in time when things would have worked exactly as he imagined they would, and as a result, there would only be positive consequences to his choices.

This got me thinking about my own instinct to create perfect moments according to what I’ve visualized—and also the times when I’ve been part of other people’s plans.

In high school, I reconnected with an old friend from junior high, who’d also been bullied back then. I was going through a lot emotionally and wasn’t in a place to date him. He told me he was disappointed because he “wanted me for his senior year.”

He had a specific vision of me being the one on his arm at the prom. It wasn’t just about being with me; it was about being with me in a very specific way.

I’ve done the exact same thing at times. I know I want to have children—but in an ideal world, I’d have them in the next two years, and I’d have created a situation that allows me to spend equal time on the east and west coasts, to be close to family in both places. I realize, however, that in two years time, I may not have created those conditions.

Life doesn’t always work out in the way we imagine would be ideal. We can either resist that, feeling crushed when we don’t get exactly what we wanted, or accept reality at every step of the way and adapt to make the best of what we get.

We’re often advised to visualize the future in specific detail so that we may create it; to see in our heads the environment, the people, and the situations we want to manifest. This can be a powerful exercise because it helps us get clear about what we really want.

It will be a far more effective practice, though, if we remember that what we really want isn’t the perfect moment—it’s happiness from moment to moment. That comes from choosing to embrace and work with what is, instead of bemoaning and fighting it.

Photo by magical-world

“You are your choices.” -Seneca

It sounds like such a cliché to say that most of what we’re seeking is already within us, but nonetheless, it’s true.

Happiness doesn’t only exist in some perfect tomorrow when our circumstances look ideal. It’s a moment-to-moment choice that has to do with how we perceive and respond to what’s in front of us. We can choose happiness right now.

Peace doesn’t only exist in some time without obstacles or troubles. It’s something we can feel by accepting what is, doing our best, and believing that’s good enough. We can choose peace right now.

Love doesn’t only exist in a storybook relationship with the perfect person. It’s something we can nurture within ourselves in any moment and then share with the people and the world around us. We can choose love right now.

Success doesn’t only exist in epic achievement, some day down the road. It’s what we feel when we honor the things that matter to us instead of making excuses why we can’t. We can choose success right now.

We can choose what we think. We can choose what we believe. We can choose how we react. We can choose how we act.

This moment is all there is—and while we can’t control everything about it, we can choose who we are and what we do within it.

What do you choose right now?

Photo by memsahib 313

“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