“Your task is not to seek love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” ~Rumi

After I wrote yesterday’s post about giving and receiving love, I started to think about the many times in the past when I felt love-deprived.

It’s easy to feel that way when we’ve been hurt or we think we’re alone—as if there aren’t any people who are really looking out for us.

In retrospect, I realize that when I felt this way, it wasn’t that no one loved me. It was that I was too busy looking for love to open my eyes and see it.

I was too busy craving romantic love to recognize and appreciate the other forms of love coming at me; as a result, I came to every potential partner with a deep sense of neediness and lack.

Love was the one thing I didn’t have. And yet it was all around me.

What I’ve learned is that receiving love doesn’t necessarily mean opening up to a long-term relationship, though of course it can mean that. It also means consciously looking for acts of love and them choosing to appreciate and accept them.

When someone looks out for you, empathizes with you, stands up for you, listens to you, relates to you, appreciates you, respects you, accepts you, or acknowledges you, they are giving you love.

When someone thanks you, encourages you, believes in you, supports you, forgives you, soothes you, uplifts you, or trusts you, they are giving you love.

When someone opens up to you, tries to know you, stays strong for you, assumes the best in you, compliments you, mentors you, makes time for you, or makes an effort for you, they are giving you love.

Love is always coming at us, in one form or another—sometimes from friends, sometimes from family, sometimes from strangers we may only know in passing.

It might be a thoughtful call at just the right time, a warm hug for no good reason, or even a supportive blog comment on a day when you felt weak and afraid.

We all have so much love to give, and we’re giving it every day. The only question is whether or not we’re also able to recognize and really receive it.

Thank you to all of you for the love you sent me this last week. It makes a big difference for me, and I appreciate it!

Photo here

“Eventually you will come to realize that love heals everything, and love is all there is.” -Gary Zukav

The end of last week was a little tough for me.

I was waiting to be scheduled for surgery, knowing it could fall anywhere within the next three months. I was realizing I will soon have thousands of dollars in medical and dental bills, between that, a recent mammogram to test another suspicious lump, and my eight cavity fillings.

I was worrying about disappointing my engaged sister who is expecting me to fly home soon for dress shopping, while also feeling overwhelmed about the three different sets of visitors I will be hosting in March. Lastly, I was dealing with some old issues that resurface every now and then, two decades after I first began addressing them.

On Thursday night, when my boyfriend and I were out for dinner, it took a Herculean effort to not break down in tears, which I knew would be embarrassing for him. I made it to the car and cried the whole way home.

Being the understanding, supportive person he is, he listened to me for more than an hour that night, and again on Friday morning when I started crying just minutes after waking up.

I don’t think I had a single thought that didn’t revolve around me, my discomfort, and my need to work through my feelings.

On Saturday morning, something occurred to me: I had been obsessing about myself and my circumstances, and my boyfriend willingly sat in that space with me, a source of nonjudgmental friendship and kindness.

What I had I done for him lately? Caught up as I was in my own drama, what effort had I made to be thoughtful—not in reciprocation, but just because I love and appreciate him?

So I emailed him at his work, offering to make our grocery run and then take him out to dinner. And I knew I brightened his day, the way he often brightens mine. Suddenly I felt a profound sense of relief, gratitude, and peace.

It wasn’t because I’d solved all my problems. It wasn’t because I’d made any major emotional breakthroughs. It was because I stopped focusing on those things, remembered how fortunate I am to have love in my life, and then put my love into action.

That’s the remarkable thing about love. It has an amazing power to heal—not just in the getting, but also in the giving.

Photo by AlicePopkorn

“Love isn’t a state of perfect caring. It is an active noun, like struggle. To love someone is to strive to accept that person exactly the way he or she is, right here and now.” –Fred Rogers

Over the years, we form a lot of ideas about what love is, oftentimes based on unrealistic hopes and standards. We learn what we think it’s supposed to look like, and we may find ourselves frustrated when reality falls short.

It often does. Love can be messy, confusing, and imperfect, just like us, and life itself.

What Hallmark cards don’t always tell us is what love isn’t, but sometimes we need to strip away ideals in order to understand and appreciate what’s real.

Love isn’t always patient. Sometimes we get short, brusque, or frustrated with the people we love the most. Love is, however, recognizing that, taking a few deep breaths, and then doing our best to see the people we care about with compassion and understanding.

Love isn’t always kind. Sometimes we say things we later regret to the people we love the most. Love is, however, recognizing that, taking responsibility, and then doing our best to be caring and considerate in our future interactions.

Love isn’t always selfless. Sometimes we fail to consider the needs of the people we love the most. Love is, however, recognizing that, taking their feelings into account, and then doing our best to find a balance between giving and taking.

Love isn’t always trusting. Sometimes we doubt the people we love the most. Love is, however, recognizing that, taking a close look at where our suspicions really come from, and then doing our best to see the best in people instead of assuming the worst.

Love sometimes envies. Love is sometimes easily angered. Love sometimes keeps a record of wrongs. Love does all these things because we sometimes do these things.

Acknowledging this doesn’t mean condoning it; it means recognizing that love doesn’t cure us of our natural human tendency to make mistakes.

Love doesn’t fail because we mess up from time to time. It fails when we fail to accept that we all do, and then think something is wrong instead of making things right.

Love isn’t life without conflict. It’s about wanting and working to overcome it together.

Photo by Alice Popkorn

“Once you have learned to love, you will have learned to live.” -Unknown

My high school vocal teacher said that “love” is the most beautiful word in the English language, so I should let it roll off my tongue like honey to make it thick, sweet and poignant.

So I did. I sang it deeply, slowly, and soulfully, though I never spoke the word. I came from a family that didn’t really express emotion, so I filed it away with all the things I wanted to say but didn’t.

When I started dating, I couldn’t wait to profess my love, long before I actually felt it. I said it at every chance I could get because that’s how often I wanted to hear it.

I wanted it to constantly roll like honey toward me, so I could feel warm, safe, and unconditionally accepted. I whispered it, mumbled it, yelled it, and even cried it, all while having no idea what it really felt like. It was my gift and my curse, wrapped in fear, insecurity, and need.

Over the years, I’ve put a lot of effort into learning to love myself and others; and in the process, I realized I wanted to say “I love you” a lot less and a lot more often. I wanted to say it less when I didn’t really mean it and more when I actually did.

I wanted to stop reciting it like a parrot to men who weren’t good for me, and start expressing it deeply, slowly, and soulfully to the people I really cared about.

So often in life, we avoid expressing our feelings in fear that it will be awkward. The first time I said I love you to my eight-years-younger brother, the word felt almost foreign. I felt uncomfortable mostly because I was afraid I’d make him feel that way.

Now I tell him every time we speak. I do the same with every other family member. And many of my friends. And even many of the people I engage with through this site. Why? Because life is too short to feel love and not express it.

Love is the most beautiful word in the English language—when it comes from a place of genuine care, affection, and appreciation.

Who do you love in your life, and when is the last time you told them?

Photo by Saucy Salad

“Love is not love until love’s vulnerable.” -Theodore Roethke

Sometimes people submit posts and I swear I could have written them myself. In reading their stories—learning about the emotions they’re feeling and the pain they’re healing—I feel close to them; and I also develop a better understanding of myself and what I need to do to keep growing.

Other times, I can’t relate to their experiences, but suddenly I feel compassion for behaviors I may formerly have misunderstood.

This, I believe is the power of vulnerability. When we open up to each other, we invite people to understand us, and let them know we want to understand them. We break down the barriers of judgment and fear and, in doing so feel safe, connected, and supported.

I came to Tiny Buddha from a far different place. Formerly, I lived in a world where security meant solitude, and connection meant pain. I saw everyone as someone waiting to hurt me, if I didn’t keep my guard up.

It’s easier to let your guard down when other people do the same. But the reality is someone has to go first. Intimacy doesn’t happen spontaneously. It’s something we have to create by choosing to be authentic.

That can be a scary thing—especially since we never know how we’ll be received when we put ourselves out there, or if other people will respond in kind.

Over the past few years, I’ve put a lot of effort into building solid friendships. This is something that’s always been challenging for me; or perhaps more accurately, something I always made difficult. Sometimes I tried too hard, or created drama, or pushed people away.

I wanted so badly to be loved and accepted, but in my fear of not receiving that, I set myself up to be feared and rejected.

I know now that meaningful, intimate relationships start when someone dares to be genuine; and that happiness is accepting the possibility of rejection and choosing not to reject ourselves in response.

My genuine truth is that I would prefer to live in a world where everyone else let their guard down first.

But if intimacy is seeing ourselves in each other, maybe it starts with understanding that other people may feel that way too.

Today I commit to going first—both to give love and acceptance and create the possibility of receiving them. Will you?

Photo by Christian Haugen

“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

“Before someone’s tomorrow has been taken away, cherish those you love, appreciate them today.” -Michelle C. Ustaszeski

Familiarity can sometimes seem like permanence. Oftentimes the more comfortable we are with someone, the less effort we put into our time with them.

As I’ve mentioned before, I visit my family on the east coast several times each year for two weeks at a time. Every time I leave California, it’s bittersweet because I’m leaving my boyfriend Ehren to go see people I love.

And every time I leave Massachusetts, I’m leaving my family for even longer to resume my life with someone else I love.

Because I spend more time with Ehren, I go through phases where I don’t fully see him for the gift that he is. I might assume that I know what he’s talking about instead of fully listening. Or fail to fully appreciate the qualities that drew me to him, because I’m accustomed to them.

I don’t always recognize when I’m doing these things, but when I do, I remember the airport.

In that transient state between there and there, I’ve learned a lot about what it really means to be here—to recognize that everything changes and appreciate it all while it lasts.

When Ehren drops me off for a flight, I look him in the deeply in the eyes and realize how fortunate I am for the time we get to spend together. When my family brings me to Logan, I do the same with them. And while I’m in the air between them, I remember to appreciate the time I spend with myself.

The reality is that nothing in life is permanent–not even our closest relationships–meaning this moment is the ideal time to pay attention to each other, understand each other, forgive each other, and be honest with each other.

Occasionally, we may take each other for granted, or get caught up in little squabbles that we wouldn’t choose to hang onto if we knew our time together was running short. We never get to know when that will happen; we only know it eventually will.

Every moment we have together is valuable. Whether or not it feels that way is entirely up to us.

Photo by Luciano Meirelles

“We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men.” -Herman Melville

We spend so much time trying to improve ourselves and our lives. Is it possible that maybe we could accomplish those things more effectively if we focused on improving the quality of our relationships?

This is the question I posed when I spoke at the Wanderlust Yoga and Music Festival this past summer.

I just received the link to my presentation, Authentic Connections in a Networked World, and I’m excited to share it with you! It’s roughly 20 minutes long, with 10 minutes of Q&A. (Email subscribers, click through to view the video!)

“You validate people’s lives by your attention.” -Unknown

For as long as I can remember, wanting attention has seemed like a shameful thing.

“She’s only doing that for attention.” “He’s only telling that sob story for attention.” “She only volunteered to help for attention.”

Have you ever said or heard something like this? I know I have. Many times throughout my life, I’ve analyzed people’s words and actions and essentially judged whether or not their intention was to hoist themselves into the spotlight.

Every time I’ve done this, somewhere inside me I’ve thought, “It’s bad to be desperate for attention.” And somewhere underneath that, “I hate that I’ve been desperate for attention.”

Call it second child syndrome, but I came out of the womb screaming, “Look at me!” And then “What are you looking at?”

That’s the thing about insecurity—you simultaneously crave an audience and fear what they might be thinking.

I have a healthier sense of self these days, but I can still be triggered by (what I might believe is) attention seeking behavior—and it’s generally because I’m subconsciously judging many of my former choices.

Not everyone acts out to gain approval, but no matter how you slice it, the desire for attention is a call for love. What would happen if we started seeing it that way, instead of turning attention into a four letter word?

I’m not talking about enabling people when they’re doing dangerous things, or condoning disrespectful, inconsiderate choices.

I’m talking about shifting our perceptions so that we’re less apt to judge and more likely to understand. That doesn’t mean we need to be pulled into drama. It just means we look a little below the surface to empathize before responding–and in this way, we’re better able to recognize when attention seeking is actually a cry for help.

We all look for validation every now and then. We’re all people who want attention. And we can all choose to be compassionate when we see a call for love instead of judging the need.

Photo by sarniebill

“Praise is like sunlight to the human spirit: we cannot flower and grow without it.” ~Jess Lair

There was a time when I could turn almost any positive feedback into something negative.

I don’t know if this was my attempt to confirm my unworthiness or my belief that people were usually hurtful, but I had a knack for distorting people’s words to avoid accepting praise.

If someone found me after a play and said I was a talented singer, I wondered if she was really thinking about my subpar dancing.

If a teacher told me that I showed promise and reminded him of my sister, I assumed he meant that I was a second rate version of the student he met first.

In short, I thought very little of myself, and constantly looked for proof that everyone else did, too.

You might not be able to relate to the low self-esteem that I once had, but maybe you’ve also negated praise before. I hear people do it all the time—and sometimes I find myself doing it, too—with phrases like, “It was nothing,” and “I just got lucky,” and “He was just being nice.”

We all like and need to feel valued and appreciated, so why is it sometimes so hard to simply smile and say “Thank you”?

I suspect there are times when we disbelieve what others say; after all, people occasionally say flattering things just to be kind. Other times we may question their motives or downplay our achievements because we’re fishing for more confirmation—or attempting to appear humble.

But it might also have to do with vulnerability. Accepting a compliment is akin to receiving validation, and no one wants to reveal that validation is something they want or need.

Whatever the case may be, when we reject positive feedback, we rob ourselves the opportunity to feel valued and appreciated, and deny the other person the joy of honoring us.

We all need to be on both sides of that coin. We need to see and be seen for the light we have to offer the world—so why not give that gift to ourselves and other people?

So today I propose a challenge for you and for me: receive all compliments without questioning them, analyzing them, or negating them. Simply accept it, and know that you deserve it.

Photo by ingridtaylar