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

When things don’t go as planned, is your go-to explanation that it’s because you did something wrong, or because there’s something wrong with you? For many people, self-compassion is a real challenge.

Most of us want to be kinder to ourselves, but our self-critical, perfectionistic patterns are often well-established, and it’s hard to know how to interrupt them.

When I was in graduate school, I was driving home from school one evening when I noticed that my car was overheating. Just as I arrived in front of my building, the engine stalled completely.

It was 5pm on a Friday, I was blocking the bike lane, and traffic was backed up behind me. Two cars sped past beeping their horns, and then a cyclist turned and waved his fist as he rode around me. I flipped on my hazard lights.

As I dialed Triple A, the self-critical thoughts and stories started to spin:

“Why didn’t I notice earlier that the car was overheating? I should have had it serviced. If I had been more on top of things, this wouldn’t be happening.”

I heard more car horns beeping as the woman at Triple A promised that a tow truck would be there within 30 minutes. After I thanked her and hung up, the self-critical stories resumed:

“I’m in the way; inconveniencing everyone around me. I’m taking up too much space.”

I was startled by a knock at the passenger window. A guy with a goatee and a beanie stood next to my car, and I suspected that he was going to give me a hard time for being double-parked. Reluctantly, I lowered the window.

“Hey,” he said. “I work at the cafe right here—do you want a latte or a chai or something?”

I stared at him, speechless, blinking through the beginnings of tears.

“We’ve also got hot chocolate and tea,” he said.

He actually meant it.

“Oh,” I said. “Wow. Thank you. I’d love some chamomile tea.”

“You got it,” he said and headed back to the cafe.

I sat there, stunned. This experience did not fit into the story my inner critic had been telling. All of my self-criticism had been completely silenced by this stranger’s spontaneous impulse of kindness.

Suddenly none of this was my fault; it was just something that was happening, and I could allow it. All the stories had been just that: stories.

A few moments later he reappeared with the chamomile tea and handed it to me.

“Here you go,” he said.

“Thanks.” I pulled a couple of bills from my wallet.

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it,” he said.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he said.

I looked at him and took the tea.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Hey, I’ve been there.”

He tapped the passenger door twice as a goodbye. I put the window back up. The tea was too hot to drink, so I held the paper cup as it warmed my hands.

I let it register some more: This wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t evidence of me having done something wrong. It was just something that was happening, and it could just be that.

And what was so wrong about taking up space, anyway?

I was startled again by another knock. He was back. I lowered the window.

“Hey, are you allergic to honey?” he said.

“Huh? Mmm, no.”

“Oh, good. I put honey in it. I didn’t think to ask if you were allergic. If you are, I can make another one.”

“Oh, no. I love honey. Thank you,” I said.

“No worries, then.” And back to the coffee shop he went.

I smiled and blinked through a few more tears. He had put honey in my tea without me even asking? This baffled my inner critic even more; it had nothing to say.

I thought about how the self-critical stories had flared up as soon as I found myself in a challenging situation, how automatic it was for me to think that the coffee shop guy was there to criticize me, and how immediately the trance of self-judgment was broken by his act of kindness.

In five minutes, he had given me a life-altering lesson in how compassion alchemizes criticism. He had no ulterior motive: he was simply being kind and generous, and he inspired me to be more kind and generous with myself.

If you struggle with self-judgment, tuck this simple phrase into your back pocket.

The next time you notice that critical thoughts are present, experiment with asking your inner judge, “Hey, are you allergic to honey?” It just might help you interrupt those all-to-familiar patterns, and start creating new, self-compassionate ones.

Photo by Ashley Campbell Photography

“Live your beliefs and you can turn the world around.” ~Henry David Thoreau

Authenticity is a buzzword these days. We hear all kinds of advice on how to live it, breathe it, and get more of it. Maybe this is because we are actually drowning in inauthenticity.

Advertising bombards us with promises of bigger, better, faster, and easier. But the dream life of effortless comfort and problems that fix themselves is just a fantasy, a running away from the truth of life:

Everything is impermanent.

Right now, at this moment, this life is all we have.

More and more people are fearlessly embracing this truth. As a result they are living their lives in accord with what their hearts are telling them rather than what the dominant paradigm dictates as “safe,” “normal,” and “true.”

People are beginning to live their dreams with more passion and purpose than ever before. The focus isn’t on money or the accumulation of things but on living with integrity. And though it’s not the always the easier road, they are far happier for it.

This is the kind of happiness we all crave. I know I do.

We know in our hearts that there is something missing in our lives these days. But we also know that life can be rich, deeply satisfying, and meaningful.

I just got back from a yearlong sabbatical in India.

At the end of it all, I was riding the overnight bus from Dharamsala to Delhi on my way home.

In front of me were a dwindling savings account and an uncertain future. But as I looked out the window at the Himalayas shrinking into the distance, I didn’t feel one scrap of regret at all.

I had done what I has set out to do, and I felt more satisfaction and sense of accomplishment than I had at any other time in my life.

Five years ago, if you had told me I would be living in a foreign country, learning a foreign language, I would have laughed in your face. I was so bogged down with my own insecurities and fears that I couldn’t even have imagined such a thing.

I lived my dream of spending a year in India because I worked hard on making it happen. I set a clear goal and faced all of the challenges to that goal with an open mind and the determination to overcome them.

But most importantly, I listened to my heart.

My heart told me this: I had to do it. And what’s more, if I didn’t I would have regretted it for the rest of my life.

But learning how to listen to your heart takes practice and effort. It’s not as simple as it sounds. But it’s not impossible either.

So what are some steps you can take to start listening to your heart and living a more authentic life?

Here are four of them that work for me.

1.  Slow down.

Slowing down is a meme that seems to be (ironically, very quickly) working it’s way through the culture these days.

Supposedly, we need to be taking it easier, to be letting go of the compulsion to work ourselves to the bone every hour of our lives.

But one look out the window during rush hour traffic and we see that’s exactly what most of us are still doing.

It’s not that we shouldn’t work hard or be productive. Goodness knows, as a writer I’ve got to spend a lot of time in the chair.

But we need to honor the fact that down time is essential if we really want to get in touch with our authentic selves.

So listen to this: Finish this article then take a long, deep breath. Close your laptop and go for a walk. Go in a direction you’ve never taken before and just take your sweet time.

Give yourself some space to be you.

2. Unplug.

We live in a world drenched in information. Whatever we want to know, we can find out instantly. This can be very exciting and even useful.

But one of the things that prevent us from staying in touch with our true selves is the constant barrage of cultural programing we are dosed with everyday.

Advertisements, news programs, and television shows all tell us what and how to think, what products to buy, what opinions are in style, what life goals we should be achieving.

It’s not necessarily that Big Brother is watching us, but it’s good to unplug from all of this from time to time and give your own voice a chance to pipe in.

So take a break from the intake of information. Pick a time during the day, or even a whole day off during the week, to turn off the computer, the television, the radio.

Take some time to listen to what you really think and feel.

3. Explore and experiment.

Part of the reason that we live inauthentic lives is that we get stuck in a rut. We lull ourselves into a false sense of security by following the same old routines.

New ideas and experiences are what keep us fresh and alive. Our authentic selves thrive on them, and when we expose ourselves to new things we have the opportunity to grow.

Visiting new places, putting ourselves in new situations, exposing ourselves to new points of view can all challenge us to understand who you truly are.

So get out of your rut. Even if it just begins with ordering something different off the lunch menu, make an effort to keep an open mind to what possibilities are out there waiting for you.

4. Cultivate fearlessness.

Living authentically doesn’t always mean a life of comfort and bliss. Often it means just the opposite.

When we show our true selves to the world, when we dare to live our dreams, we might just run into many obstacles we didn’t expect.

We might experience ridicule. We might find that our authentic life isn’t what we expected at all.

We might even “fail.”

But what is “failure” but the opportunity to learn and grow?

If you are truly being authentic then you may find that even the falling down is more fulfilling than anything that’s normally considered to be “success.”

So work with challenges from a place of fearlessness. Know that even if you fall down, this is impermanent too. You can always get up and start anew.

Living authentically takes courage and bravery. During the past year in India I met a lot of inspiring people.

Some of them had packed up their families to pursue their dreams of traveling the world. Some were there were, like me, learning a new language only because they knew it would enrich their lives.

Many more were devoting themselves to a spiritual way of life that, despite its uncertainty and difficulty, was far more fulfilling than anything they had tried before.

I truly believe that we all have this kind of courage and bravery hiding somewhere inside us. And if you just take the time to look, you will find that you do too.

Photo by Summer Skyes 11

“Learn to appreciate what you have before time makes you appreciate what you had.” ~Unknown

I was standing there crying harder than I had ever cried before in my life. I was so emotionally moved that I totally lost control and was even drooling. It’s a good thing I was wearing a surgical mask.

I was witnessing my wife giving birth to our first-born child.

A nurse had to remind me to take pictures when she saw me standing there with a camera in my hand, crying more than a…well, a baby. It was the happiest moment of my life. I felt joy with a touch of relief and a sense of responsibility toward my wife and son.

It was the most intense rush of emotions I had ever experienced, until…

Fast-forward a year minus five days later. I experienced the saddest and most difficult feelings of my life. It was the same intensity of emotions I felt when my son was born, but it was pure sadness, grief, and emptiness I felt.

I was standing in a small room in a different hospital in a different section. A large man opened a freezer door and rolled out a body wrapped in white sheets. He opened the sheets while I stood there in disbelief. A few seconds later, I began crying uncontrollably.

I was looking at my dead father (even writing this sentence hurts).

His nose was a little wrinkled to the side from the pressure of the sheets. I turned around and walked toward the wall weeping uncontrollably. I wanted it to be a bad dream, but it wasn’t.

My cousin embraced me as I cried more. I turned back around and asked the large man to wait, because I wanted to see my father again. I stood there looking at him, hoping silently he would say it was all a huge mistake. I would have forgiven the hospital if that had been the case. But it wasn’t.

Later when we were burying him, he still didn’t wake. I knew it was silly, but I had hope.

A Changed Perspective On Life

These two experiences had a huge impact on me. For one, they triggered the most intense emotions I’ve ever felt. They also gave me a new perspective on life.

Redefined Priorities

Having a son changed my priorities. I resolved to do anything and everything to ensure he has the happiest life possible.

I choose to shower him with unconditional love, protect him from harm until he can fend for himself, teach and guide him so he can navigate his way through life, and open doors for him so he has choices and possibilities.

Most importantly, I savor every moment I have with him. I decided to balance life and work better. Although work is important, it will not come at the expense of people I love. Working 15-hour days no longer makes sense.

Life is Transient; Make it Worthwhile

Losing my father made me realize how transient life is. He was a figure of strength for me when I was a child. I assumed he would always be there. Time passed and now he’s gone.

His death reminded me to live a meaningful life. It reinforced my resolve to savor it. When my time comes, it won’t be the material possessions that I will miss. It will be the people I love and the experiences I had with them.

I choose to go after my dreams rather than just think about them and waiting for the right moment. Whenever I catch myself hesitating, I choose to either get started or drop it and pursue something else. Hesitation is not an option.

I realized that I don’t necessarily have to risk it all and drop everything to pursue my dreams. That might work for some, but I don’t want to subject my family to the hardship of the dip until things work out.

The journey can be longer. The important thing is to keep moving toward it and savoring the trip along the way.

Lean Into Life

I realized we have three choices in how we approach life and life’s events: we can either go with the flow (i.e. lean back), walk away (quit), or make the most of it (lean in).

I decided to lean into life and things I choose to pursue. Instead of just going with the flow, I choose to set course toward something worthwhile to me and fight for it when I face resistance. Something I’m good at (I will get good at it if I wasn’t already). Something that fits my values. Something I love so much that I lose track of time while doing it.

I choose to do things I’m proud of. I choose to read and learn new things that will light my way and fuel my mind.

Choose To Be Happy

I choose to help others even if they don’t ask for it. I choose to take care of myself. I choose to be around people who add to my life and ignore those who don’t. I choose to experiment with new things and constantly evolve my self, my life, and my work. I make time for my hobbies.

I choose to breathe and relax when I’m stressed about something. In good and bad times, I remind myself that “this too shall pass” and focus on what I can control.

Focus On What’s There, Not What’s Missing

I enjoy the moments I have with my son. I watch him every night while he sleeps. I kiss his chubby feet and play with his toes as he giggles. I relish the rare moments when he settles down and sits on my lap. I savor the moments when he wraps his hand around my finger.

I also cherish the good memories I have of my dad. I feel warmth and joy each time I do.

I encourage you to do the same and lean into life. Prioritize what’s important in your life. Pursue and protect your dreams. Nurture your relationships with people who matter to you. Don’t waste energy on what isn’t important. You can start today.

Photo by Max F. Williams

“To forgive is to set a prisoner free and realize that prisoner was you.” ~Lewis B. Smedes

For a long time, I had a stressful relationship with my dad. We fell apart after I was diagnosed with Anorexia Nervosa, and from me trying to push him out and him not understanding what I was going through in regards to eating and body image, we stopped talking.

Somewhere inside of me, I had built up anger that was directed at him and I just couldn’t bring myself to forgive him or let him go. And he was just clueless, not knowing what was wrong with me and why I didn’t like him, so he stopped trying too.

Before I knew it, it had been almost a year without saying anything to each other, and I was heading off to college. I was still angry inside until my mom gave me a book called Loving What Is, by Byron Katie, and everything changed.

Not overnight, but slowly things began to improve between my dad and me.

The book has to do with four simple questions that you ask yourself about a thought or emotion you are experiencing. Because I felt like my dad had distanced himself from my problems, and believed that he loved my brother more than me, I had thoughts like, “He doesn’t love me,” and “I’m never enough for him,” so I worked on these thoughts with what Byron Katie calls “The Work.”

I took the thought, “I am never good enough for him,” and put it up against the four questions.

1. Is it true?

Is it true that I am never good enough for my dad? Yes.

2. Can you absolutely know that it is true?

Can I absolutely know that I am never good enough for my dad? No.

3. How do you feel when you think this thought?

When I think that I’m not good enough for my dad, I feel angry and sad. I become defensive and hot.

4. Who would you be without this thought?

Without the thought that I am never good enough for him I would be calm, relaxed, and not so upset. My relationship with my dad would improve and I wouldn’t worry so much about his approval.

The next step is to turn the thought around. Here are my turnarounds with examples as to why these are true for me.

• My dad is never good enough for me because I am constantly judging him.
• I am good enough for my dad because he does show he is proud of me.
• I am not good enough for myself because I do not approve of who I am.

After doing this work on my thoughts about my dad, I began to see things differently. My eyes started to open to things I haven’t seen before.

If I wanted my dad to approve of me and accept me for who I was, I first had to approve and accept him as he was.

When I turned around my thought, even though it was hard to realize, I saw that my behavior toward my dad was the problem, not him. I failed to remember that he was just doing what he knew how to do, he was trying his best. It was me who needed to approve of myself, not my Dad.

Forgiveness had never come easy to me. I always felt as though I was the one who deserved the forgiving, but something changed the day I read this book. I forgave my dad. I forgave him and accepted him, and in turn, I accepted myself.

I gave my dad what I wanted from him and our relationship turned around. I gave myself what I wanted from him and I turned myself around.

The Work can be helpful for every thought you have or problem you are facing, as it allows you to look at your life and yourself in a new light. I understand that sometimes it can be painful questioning your thoughts, especially ones that have been with you for a long time, and it’s not an overnight process.

Sometimes I would cry myself to sleep over my responses or want to tear the page apart because there was no way I could forgive my dad. But if you give it time and patience, a change will start happening inside of you.

You will learn to see the person in a different way. You will see that everyone is just trying their best with what they have in this moment, and even if you believe they don’t deserve forgiveness, you deserve to be at peace.

Photo by morstan

“Remember that sometimes not getting what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck.” ~Dalai Lama

While every adoption story is different, they all start with a loss. Our loss turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to us.

I’ve had two migraines in my life. Both were when I was battling infertility and in a war with my body. My brain had had enough apparently.

The first migraine was on my way to work one day (different story), and the second was before a dinner party. My friend was inviting her close friends over to make an announcement. I knew what the announcement was.

She was going to tell us she was pregnant. I was as happy for her as an infertile friend can be, which is not very.

My migraine saved me that night. I didn’t have to go and pretend. Instead, I was alone in a dark room crying, which is where I would have ended up anyway. Now I know I was grieving the loss of my non-existent biological child.

In what turned out to be an oddly not-difficult decision to adopt, my husband and I were on the way to the adoption agency for the first informational meeting when we had the biggest fight we had ever had. Uncharacteristically, I was so emotional I told him to turn the car around. I knew this was not the time to begin our adoption journey.

About a month later we tried again. We were in the car, having just merged onto the highway on the way to the adoption agency, when we were sandwiched between two other cars in a three-way wreck. We were fine, but missed the meeting.

Our third try turned out to be a charm as we showed up at the agency relatively emotionally stable and in one piece.

Those who have adopted can confirm that timing is everything, especially in foreign adoptions when often the two files on the top of the pile get matched and a family is formed.

Was something cosmic happening so that we would show up at the right time to receive the right baby?

Once the adoption was underway and we were awaiting our sweet baby to be approved for release to us, I would talk to her. We even had a song, Coldplay’s “Yellow.”

I would sing, “Look at the stars; look how they shine for you,” because I thought we could see the same stars. I felt closer to her, knowing we were thousands of miles apart, but could see the same sky.

“You were all yellllllooo,” I would sing alone in my car, again and again.

I don’t know what it is like to give birth, but I cannot imagine it is any more terrifying or exciting than meeting your adopted child for the first time. We, along with the families we were traveling with, had taken over a hotel floor when the babies started arriving from the orphanage.

“Swenson” we heard our interpreter yell as he held out a baby, our baby. I don’t remember stumbling forward, but my husband has it on video. When I watch it I see myself holding our daughter and instinctively cupping her head and holding her to me.

She was dressed in head to toe yellow. Shirt, shorts, even yellow jelly sandals. This. was. my. daughter.

She was all yellllllooo.

I did not get what I wanted. I wanted to have a dinner party and announce that I was pregnant. I wanted to carry a child in my belly. I wanted to discover how the baby looked like me and how it looked like my husband.

I didn’t have a dinner party. I didn’t carry her in my own belly. She doesn’t look a damn thing like us.

But what I got? What I got was even better. I got a child that was meant to be ours.

This baby was so meant to be ours that we couldn’t make it to the adoption agency until the third try because it wasn’t time yet. This baby was so meant to be ours she was wearing head-to-toe yellow when we met after I’d been singing “Yellow” to her for months.

So yes, sometimes not getting what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck.

I daresay when you don’t get what you want it is because there is something better on its way to you.

Photo by egor.gribanov

“Life is a process of becoming. A combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death.” ~Anais Nin

I bought an ice cream cake for my family to thank them for giving me the time and space to write the first draft of my novel. My husband took photos. I selected my favorite shot as the wallpaper on my computer to remind me of this milestone.

I was happy and joyous for a week. The second week I fell into despair—hard—and stayed there for months and months and months.

I could not edit the novel I had completed and I could not start something new. I was stuck. A terminal sense of doom clouded my days and fogged over my nights. 

Eventually, I sought help from a counselor who specialized in treating creative people. Her diagnosis was grief. Some people go through the grief process when they complete a creative project, she explained.

Apparently, I was one of those people.

I had fallen into the trap of believing I could sustain the triumphant joy and deep satisfaction I had received upon completing the first draft of my novel and remain in those victorious feelings forever. When I couldn’t, I fell into depression and stayed there.

I had experienced a kind of death.

The counselor recommended that I allow the grieving to unfold naturally without force. That meant I had to give myself permission to be depressed. I had to sit with the feeling, day and night, and not wrestle with it.

Weeks later, I finally emerged from the darkness of despair into the light of hope. I discovered the strength to edit my novel. When that was finished, I started looking for a publisher.

I had experienced a kind of rebirth.

Since that first bout of depression, I’ve written and published four books. Each time I finish the first draft, I grieve again. But over the years, I have learned how to process my feelings and create again.

Here are 7 simple steps to help you move through your emotions without getting stuck:

1. Learn acceptance.

Acknowledge what you are feeling without judgment. Offer yourself reassurance that it’s okay to feel whatever it is that you are feeling, no matter what anyone says or thinks.

If you ignore what you’re feeling or pretend to feel something you don’t feel, the charade will prevent you from moving through the emotion. You will remain frozen in denial. The feeling will take hold and anchor you like a dead weight.

By accepting what you feel when you feel it, you release the possibility of getting stuck.

2. Practice patience.

Some feelings last a few moments. Others last a few hours or a few days. Some feelings can last a whole year or longer.

Let the feeling stay as long as it needs to; don’t force it to leave. It will only come back until it is done.

3. Seek help early.

It’s okay to seek help for dealing with a difficult emotion. If you find yourself overwhelmed, call a friend who can listen and offer advice or hire a professional who can provide expert insight.

It’s better to get assistance as soon as you need it rather than waiting until you are stuck with an emotion you cannot release.

4. Avoid self-medicating habits.

Don’t try to mask the feeling. Drugs, alcohol, food, gambling, and shopping may temporarily relieve you from the pain of your emotion, but they will not solve your problem.

Self-medicating habits create a labyrinth around your emotion. They offer the illusion of freedom while imprisoning you. Eventually, you’ll have to face what you are feeling head on without the benefit of an addiction to cushion the impact.

By refusing to indulge in avenues of escape, you will learn the invaluable skill of self-reliance. You will grow confident in your ability to process your emotions quickly and efficiently no matter how joyful or painful they may be.

5. Develop a routine.

A consistent routine provides the foundation to build a life. Without it, chaos takes over. Feelings will either run rampant or hide in dormancy, both of which are unhealthy.

Wake up at the same time every day. Schedule your meals. Go to sleep at the same time each night.

Make sure you have quiet time for prayer, meditation, or reflection. Include hobbies on a regular basis. Spend time with your loved ones on a daily basis.

The more structured your routine, the more likely your emotions will flow.

6. Introduce something new.

Once you have developed a routine, add something new. Boredom leads to apathy, which can encourage an emotion to take root and not let go.

Variety leads to excitement. Trying something new keeps things fresh and alive.

Take a class or join a club. Visit somewhere you have always wanted to go. Be adventurous.

7. Honor the past, present, and future.

Life is more than random moments. It’s a journey of self-discovery on a continuum of time. You can easily get stuck in an emotion by dwelling on the past or not paying attention to the present or worrying about the future.

Embrace the whole spectrum of your life: the past with its history, the present with its immediacy, and the future with its potential.

If you only think of the past, you’ll be stuck in the mire of what once was and miss out on what is going on all around you right now.

If you focus only on the moment, you will neglect to remember the lessons you have learned through past experience and fail to pay attention to any future consequences. If you only dream of the future, you will become lost in fantasy without a compass to guide you there.

By honoring the past, present, and future, you can truly live each moment to its fullest.

Emotions are meant to come and go, not stay with you forever. By following these steps, you will train your mind and your body to process emotions in a healthy manner, leaving you free to explore the next chapter of your life.

Photo by www.hansvink.nl

“When you judge another, you do not define them. You define yourself.” ~Wayne Dyer

I have a tendency to want to show off what I know, and in the worst cases, correct other people.

Instead of listening and connecting I unconsciously try to sell to others an image of myself that I wish to project. Some part of me believes that if people are impressed with me then they’ll like me and be interested in my knowledge and point of view.

In this way I fall into the trap of constructing the false self. This is the person I wish for others to see, a person without vulnerabilities, incorrect knowledge, or who makes mistakes. A thing that is more of a product than a person.

Many of us fashion these false selves not only as an idealized version of ourselves, but also to keep other people’s judgments of us at bay. Before we realize what has happened, we have made our skills and knowledge into weapons that we wield on others while all the while we hide our true selves behind a shield. Without planning to, we have declared war.

The constructed, false self is a one-way gate. Like a character in a stage play, the false self puts sights and sounds out to the audience while all the while it stands behind the fourth wall of separation from the observers. The audience sees the character, but the character doesn’t see the audience.

I have someone in my life who deals with a fairly severe mental illness. Through most of my life I have tried to help him by showing him what was “wrong” with his thinking and actions. I wanted to use my logic and knowledge to set his perceptions straight.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was mostly lecturing him. I did not listen and understand his point of view, but instead stayed behind my shield and wielded my weapons of logic at him. I thought I was being a good influence.

Constructive influence, though, flows through positive human connections. When we judge others we sever those connections and directly destroy our chances of influencing others with our best information and ideas.

But real, positive influence travels in both directions. Discovering wisdom works best as a collaboration formed through the conduit of relationships. There is give and take and neither person needs to be “the right one.”

When we give others space to make mistakes, to have different skills and expertise than our own, then we also give ourselves space for the same things. No one of us is an expert at everything, but when we come together we close the gaps into a working whole.

A few years ago, while preparing for a volunteer program, I took some training in listening. I learned that it’s more valuable to reflect back what people say, and to show understanding of them without judgment.

I learned that if I showed understanding of the other person’s feelings and thoughts, that alone would ease their burden and do worlds of good.

I learned that acceptance and understanding aren’t necessarily the same things as approval and agreement.

We needn’t be afraid that we are compromising our own views or knowledge when we simply choose to understand another’s. In fact, the openness of understanding can strengthen our own point of view.

We must receive what we wish to give and give what we wish to receive. If we want to be listened to, then we must listen to others. If we want to be valued for what we know, then we must value others for what they know.

And if we want to be forgiven and loved, then we must forgive and love others.

Lately I’ve been applying my new listening skills in conversations with my mentally ill loved one. I allow myself to relate to difficult things he experiences and have even tried to be brave enough to be honest when I see a bit of myself in him, when I see the same passions, fears, and mistakes.

The funny thing is that by backing off I’ve gained more of his trust. By not pretending to have all the answers for him, I’ve strengthened our bond.

Now I only give him my opinion if he asks for it. Sometimes this comes after a long spell of silence, when we are simply being together. And I’m honest enough to tell him when I don’t have a clue how to answer his question.

And you know, I’ve learned a whole lot from him, too.

Photo by pedrosimoes7

“Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret.” ~Ambrose Bierce

I once had a much-cherished friend who meant the world to me. The problem was that we were both short-tempered individuals and the word patience was fictional to both of us.

There is a thin line separates right from wrong and when one is blinded by anger; it can be near impossible to see this line.

Invariably, my friend and I kept crossing it and ended up destroying what was one of the most beautiful bonds anybody could ever have.

One day in a fit of anger we said some mean things to each other in front of a lot of people, and that was the end of our relationship. From days of completing each other’s sentences, crying on each other’s shoulders, and growing together as best friends, we are strangers who walk this planet today.

Much has been said about anger, an emotion that most of us experience often. We read about anger, we learn anger management tips, and we know that it is an emotion with the power to destroy, and yet when it comes to our own lives, it’s an altogether different story.

When I replay the way I “reacted” to the whole incident instead of “responding” to it, I think of a hundred different things that I could have done right. I still wonder why I said those things, and in front of so many people.

When we were little kids we used to write with pencils. It was a sign that told us that our mistakes could be corrected. As we grew older we received permanent markers to paint with on the canvas called life. This is because we were expected to take the responsibility of not making irreversible mistakes.

How we manage our anger will decide if there are ugly marks on this canvas.

Anger may be an emotion that we cannot evade, but the truth is that life is much more beautiful when we learn not to succumb to it.

I have always been a short-tempered person. I’ve tried various things to control this, in vain. After having ruined many relationships because of this, I decided it was time to do something about my anger.

I’ve been asking myself “Is it possible to be someone who never gets angry?”  

There was once a saint who felt like having a bottle of beer. He asked his disciples to get him one. When the shocked disciples did as they were told, the saint simply folded his hands and stared at the bottle.

Later, he asked his disciples to take it away. When one of them asked him, “What was it that you did?” the saint told him something that we all need to understand. He said, “I cannot control the feelings, the emotions, or the temptations but I can definitely control my actions.”

As long as I keep my hands folded, there is no way I can grab this bottle of beer, and even though I cannot control my temptations I can control my actions.

While anger is something we cannot control, what we do when we are angry is something that we definitely can control.

Imagine you are working on a beautiful painting and suddenly there is a power outage and it’s pitch dark. Would you continue to make strokes on the painting, hoping that it miraculously became a masterpiece?

In the same way, when you are angry the best thing to do would be nothing at all. Anger is like a power outage for the thinking part of your brain.

These days, when I get really upset I choose not to say anything. I retire to my room for a couple of minutes, listen to some music, or distract myself. I let myself feel the emotion, but I don’t let myself react.

Like the saint, I hold my hands and control my tongue, because if I cannot control anger, I will control myself at least.

The Buddha said, “Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.”

When I look back at the incident with my friend, I feel like a lot could have been different had I not succumbed to my emotions. In the process I have hurt myself more than I have hurt my friend.

So I ask you, the next time you get angry, don’t try to control the anger; instead try to control yourself. With a little practice, it becomes a part of your life and you become a person who never lets anger ruin a valued relationship.

Photo by Scarleth White

“Resentment is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die.” ~Malachy McCourt

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

I didn’t particularly want to kiss him, but it had been a benign first date, and I didn’t know how to say no without hurting his feelings.

We were standing by my car in broad daylight, and what could be the harm, right? So I rather unenthusiastically nodded my head.

He, on the other hand, was quite enthusiastic, more than I was prepared for.

As he leaned in, I closed my eyes and endured the kiss, which most definitely did not tingle my toes. And it went on longer than I wanted, because again, I didn’t know how to end it without hurting his feelings.

So I waited. And after enduring a second, even longer, more enthusiastic, and less-desired-on-my-part kiss, I finally managed to extricate myself, thank him for lunch, slip into my car, and drive away.

I was relieved to be done with that date, and I was quite honestly annoyed. No, strike that—I was resentful.

This perfectly inoffensive man had now acquired a downright unpleasant aura in my mind. Couldn’t he read that I wasn’t interested? Why did he have to pull me into a second kiss? Oh, how I resented him! 

As I navigated the waters of online dating in search of a compatible life partner, scenarios similar to this one played themselves out over and over.

After (I kid you not) 57 first dates in a two-and-a-half year period, I’m of the opinion that there may be no greater route to self-growth than dating, if you go about it with the amount of self-examination that I did.

One of the great gifts I got from my quest for a life partner was the realization that I needed to get clear in my own head where my limits were, before leaving my house for the date.

In fact, I needed to learn to set limits in a lot of areas of my life, and it was dating that taught me how! Before I gained this clarity, though, I got very familiar with the emotion of resentment. 

I remember one moment, as I stewed with resentment towards a thoughtful, considerate, perfectly wonderful man, that I had an epiphany.

I’d allowed him to go just a tad further than I really wanted, but when I thought about it, the guy had done absolutely nothing wrong. He’d been a perfect gentleman, and would no doubt be horrified if he’d known his advances had been unwanted.

His good intentions and obvious respect for me forced me to question what was really going on here. Why was I resentful at him, I wondered?

The only one who really deserved the brunt of my anger, I realized, was myself. The guy was just following my hazy lead, and would have backed off in a heartbeat, if I’d simply asked.

That was when the light bulb clicked on over my head.

That was the moment it became clear to me that resentment isn’t anger with someone else at all; resentment is anger with oneself, misdirected at someone else through the lens of victimhood. 

Everything changed in that moment.

When you’re trained to be a people-pleaser, like I was, setting clear limits is hard. It was easier to just go with the flow, and then get resentful and blame my dates when my true wishes weren’t magically honored.

It was easier to play the victim.

But playing the victim doesn’t lead to happiness or empowerment. And once I acknowledged to myself that this is what I’d been doing—playing the victim—I resolved to take responsibility.

When I realized that my resentment wasn’t serving any useful purpose, and that it was really me I was angry with for not setting clearer, stronger limits, I could release the resentment and work on making the changes I needed to myself.

The more I took responsibility for my desires—or lack thereof—and set clear boundaries with my dates, the less victimized I felt. And the fewer unwanted kisses I had to tolerate!

And of course, taking responsibility for yourself extends to every area of your life, not just first dates! Learning to set boundaries and communicate them is an essential tool for anyone looking for a happy life.

Resentment is anger with oneself, misdirected at someone else through the lens of victimhood. 

This simple statement was like a magic formula for me. It became my mantra for a while, helping me chart a less turbulent course through my dating days.

Time for a Recharge

Knowing something and always integrating it in your life are two different things, however. I recently discovered that I needed to remind myself of my resentment epiphany.

That thoughtful, considerate, perfectly wonderful man I mentioned above? He’s been my life partner for over three years now, and he’s still perfectly wonderful.

He does not, however, have any interest in physical exercise.

I, on the other hand, am rather more concerned with my fitness than your average Joe. But even so, I don’t always reach my goal of daily exercise.

I want to be fit, but I don’t always want to pull myself away from other things and get to the gym.

In a psychology class I was taking, I learned that low physical fitness is actually “contagious.”

Studies have shown that people are more likely to become sedentary and/or obese when people in their close social network are sedentary and/or obese, and I latched onto this data just the other week, as I was frustrated with myself for letting work get in the way of my exercise commitments.

It would be so much easier to go to the gym if my partner had any interest in being my workout buddy! And it was so much easier to resent him for not having such an interest, than to take responsibility for my own failings.

Thankfully, before I got too deep in the poisonous pool of resentment, I remembered my epiphany from years ago: Resentment is anger with oneself, misdirected at someone else through the lens of victimhood.

Yes, it would be easier to get to the gym if my partner were gung-ho to get there himself, but he’s not to blame for my lack of exercise, I am.

I was the one who chose to keep pounding away at the computer instead of going to the gym! The responsibility was mine alone, and any anger directed elsewhere was a pointless waste of energy.

Whew! I felt like I’d escaped a close call. Instead of stewing in resentment toward my sweetie, I was filled with gratitude for the lessons I learned during my dating days!

It was a good reminder. Now my antennae are back up again, watching for the niggling feeling of resentment so I can nip it in the bud before it blooms.

Whether it’s unwanted kisses or a visit to the gym, when you take 100% responsibility and realize your anger is really toward yourself, resentment melts away and makes space for greater happiness.

Photo by La Zenits

“We may have all come in different ships, but we’re in the same boat now.” ~Martin Luther King Jr.

I once had a totally commonplace, uneventful thought that transformed the way I viewed relationships.

I’m not sure that it was mine; it certainly wasn’t anything groundbreaking or unique. I may have read it somewhere, I can’t remember now.

It was the notion that when two people in a relationship think of themselves as on the same team, things get much easier. Positive feelings grow freely. Score-keeping and resentment are nonexistent. 

Insights are very personal—a simple phrase that turns my world upside down might do absolutely nothing for you, and vice versa. Perhaps this notion was so life-changing for me because I grew up surrounded by people who seemed self-focused, always looking for where they had been wronged.

They weren’t selfish or egotistical people. They were insecure people.

My father had insecurities that led him to make everything about himself—if you didn’t say the right thing at the right time, trouble was sure to follow. I spent years walking on eggshells, trying to anticipate my next misstep. It was exhausting.

And I remember women who constantly, endlessly talked about what was wrong with the “deadbeat men” who never seemed to treat them the way they deserved to be treated.  

As a kid, it seemed as if adults everywhere put everyone else on the hook for their own happiness. In my childhood innocence and natural wisdom I wondered, why they didn’t take care of their own happiness? 

Being on the hook for someone else’s happiness not only felt like enormous pressure, it was an impossible task.

No matter how much my dad approved of something I did one day, he might disapprove of the very same thing the next day. No matter how nice a man was to a woman, he’d inevitably forget to compliment her dress and she’d have him back in the doghouse.

All of this look-what-you’re-doing-to-me, you-should-be-treating-me-better business is not born out of independent, empowered women (or men) simply refusing to put up with less than what they deserve. That’s often how they like to view themselves, but that’s not it at all.

Scavenger hunting for all the ways you aren’t being treated fairly is not an act of self-love. It’s an act of insecurity.

It’s born out of fear and looking to someone else to be your savior. It’s born out of the belief that your happiness comes from what others do, which manifests as manipulation, guilt trips, and passive aggressive behavior aimed at changing them so that you can feel better.

“Us” Not “Me”

When you’re focused on yourself, keeping score, and making sure you’re being treated properly, you’re not actually in relationship with another person—you’re in relationship with your thoughts about the other person.

You’re focusing on yourself, what you can get, and where your partner is falling short.

Thinking of the two of you as a team shifts your focus. Suddenly it’s not “me versus you”; it’s “us.”

It’s no longer “I did the laundry every day this week, what did you do?” It’s “We’re a team. I do the laundry more than you at times, and you do a million other things for me at times.”

It’s not “If you cared about me you’d call twice a day”; it’s “I’d love to talk to you more.”

The you-and-me-together way of looking at things is exactly what was missing for all of those disgruntled women complaining about their deadbeat men. The extreme look-out-for-myself-first approach is what made my relationship with my dad defensive and inauthentic.

Teammates

A couple weeks ago, I was talking with a friend about her marriage when she confessed that she was once a score-keeper. She used to keep a mental tally of what she had done and what her husband hadn’t, and she gave a whole lot of meaning to that score.

When I asked how she came to leave the score keeping behind, she told me that her husband said something one day that completely turned it around for her.

In the midst of one of her score reports, her husband said the reason he never thought that way was because he saw them as a team. She gives more in some ways and he gives more in other ways, but why keep track when they are always working together, in the end?

She instantly knew that was true. He did give more than her in many ways, but her rigid, defensive outlook hadn’t allowed her to even notice what he did for her.

Although insights are personal, she had the same game-changing one I did. She never looked at her relationship in quite the same way again. When she found herself feeling wronged, she remembered that she and her husband were teammates, not adversaries.

Being on the same team takes the frailty out of a relationship. My relationship with my father always felt fragile and temporary, like I was one wrong look away from being disowned. In fact, I was.

Don’t you see this in romantic relationships—especially new ones—all the time?  One or both people are afraid to fully be themselves in fear of what the other might make of their honesty.

I can clearly remember the wave of relief that washed over my now-husband’s face when we had a disagreement about six months into our courtship. He sat me down to assess the damage and I assured him that we were past the point of breaking up over a petty dissimilarity.

He says he knew in that moment that we were an “us.” It wasn’t “me” evaluating and judging him,” or “him” deciding whether “I” was right or wrong.

We were a team, and teams are infinitely more resilient than individual identities trying to coexist.

I wonder what this shift in perspective might do for you. Even if you aren’t a score keeper always looking for where you were wronged, taking on the team viewpoint can bring a new sense of closeness to your relationships.

Can you imagine what might happen if we extended this beyond personal relationships—if we saw entire families, communities, or all of humanity as part of the same team?

Imagine how we’d treat each other.

Here’s to spreading the insight to our teammates everywhere.

Photo by ClickFlashPhotos