Tiny Buddha: Wisdom Quotes, Letting Go, Letting Happiness In

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Dina Weldin

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

Each day, month, or year I want to be something different when I grow up. At some point I want to open up a smoothie truck with a best friend, I want to teach yoga to cancer patients, and I want to travel to Australia and become a bartender just to support myself.

But more so than what I want (or think I want) to be, I know what I am. I am a wife, a sister, a friend, an Egyptian, a listener, a weirdo, a poet, a marketer, a dog mom, and a wannabe yogi.

But most of all? I am emotional.

I am so emotional at times that my husband comes home to an inconsolable wife sitting alone on the couch crying. And what has set me off into this uncontrollable fit, you may ask? Some kid in a commercial misses his dad who is on a business trip, and (thanks to Skype services) he gets his bedtime story from 3,000 miles away. Sad? Yes, I know.

Sad, but common. I have emotional friends. I also have completely apathetic friends. I love them. They are completely real with me when I get out of hand and help bring me back to earth.

Something I just can’t help but get emotional over is death.

It’s funny because I don’t have a problem with my own death. I could talk about that for days—how it’s going to happen, when I think it will happen, anything, until my husband tells me he doesn’t want to hear about it anymore and leaves the room.

My grandparents along with many members of my family live in Egypt. I went to Egypt every other summer since I was born. I looked forward to seeing my cousins, the beaches, my aunts—everyone, but specifically my grandfather. I am my grandfather’s favorite grandchild (his words, not mine). Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Marilyn Briant

“Peace of mind is not the absence of conflict from life, but the ability to cope with it.” ~Unknown

Like many people, I lived my life for a lot of years failing to understand inner peace is a choice. I am not sure what I thought. Perhaps I didn’t believe anyone could feel a lasting peace inside. I did know that my own feelings of peace were always transitory.

There were many ups and downs in my life, too many claims on my time and too many difficult situations to be dealt with. I think I actually believed inner peace could only be achieved by monks and saints, or anyone living a reclusive life who didn’t have to deal with everyday struggles.

I was stuck in a world of confusion, wondering how peace could be mine when there was always something, some drama going on in my own life or the lives of those I loved.

In fact, it seemed to me that the whole world was filled with stuff, negative stuff mostly, which I read about in the newspaper, saw on the television, or heard from someone I knew.

It was the kind of stuff that pulls at your emotions—the breaking news story of a missing woman being found murdered, the tragedy of a child being killed by a hit and run driver, the numbers of homeless people tripling, and a devastating Tsunami killing thousands and paralyzing a country.

Then there were the stories closer to home—my friend’s husband being diagnosed with cancer and dying three months later, my father suffering from dementia, my best friend’s marriage falling apart—all tearing at my heart and leaving me hurt and grieving.

In my own personal life too, my emotions dipped and peaked along with how much control I felt I had over my own happiness. I literally felt like a puppet on a string, and asked myself over and over again, “How can I feel a constant inner peace in my heart and life, when my emotions see-saw up and down according to what is happening in and around me?”

Looking back I know I believed that my emotions were important. After all wasn’t being emotional an essential part of being alive? Emotions made me feel real and allowed me to extend empathy to everyone else.

But in the deepest part of myself, I did not feel good most of the time. I longed to not be so emotional. I wanted to be released from all the conflict in my life—to not react to other people’s words and anger—to feel serenity in my heart.

It was an almost desperate need to alter or to stop the negative cycle of events which seemed to dominate my relationships and my life.

I believe it was that intention which kept on surfacing in my mind and in my heart that fueled my spiritual search and led me to discover a more peaceful way to live, despite the conflict in my life. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Nikki Di Virgilio

“The light at the end of the tunnel is not an illusion. The tunnel is.” ~Unknown

A dream: I am in a woman’s prison. The cells and halls are dark and dirty. The prison looks like a damp dungeon. Inside the cells are women dressed in rags along with their children.

I am not in a cell, but walking around, observing the faces of desperate, imprisoned women. I need to get out, and find myself in an empty corridor, long and wide.

At the end, I see a glimpse of light: freedom through the corridor. After a long walk, I arrive at the place of light, an oasis, an ocean retreat filled with sunshine, laughter, and happy people wearing white.

But before I enter the long tunnel, I see a girl crying, and I ask her why. She tells me she has a feeling something bad is going to happen to me.

This dream has become the metaphor of my life. The quote above resonates with my dream and the journey I have walked, but what has inspired me to write this post, is this: the tunnel is the illusion.

It would seem that since the “new age” movement, we have heard a lot about illusion—about what is real and what is not. What we should focus our minds on and what we should not.

How we have a choice that we need to make every day, perhaps every moment, between fear and love. Between prison and freedom. It makes us think we might have some power in a world that often does not make sense or brings us to places we would never want to be.

Here is another quote by Carl Jung.

“There is no coming to consciousness without pain. People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own Soul. One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.” 

It is not that I don’t agree that the tunnel is an illusion, but it concerns me that this word, illusion, gives us permission to not care about the tunnel—to not care about the process, which brings us from where we are to where we are going. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Jennifer Bailey

“Sometimes questions are more important than answers.”  ~Nancy Willard

My twenties and thirties were an endless quest for “The Answer.” As if there were only one.

The one answer that would change everything. Make everything right. Make me happy.

What Didn’t Work

I searched high and low for answers. I’d read the latest book, hoping it held the key. I’d watch to see what others said and did, assuming they had the answers.

My M.O. was simple:  read, observe, imitate, emulate.

I was always searching outside myself. 

Always thinking finding the “right” answer would hold the key to happiness and contentment.

I’d think, “This is it!” 

“This” being a new career, new city, new relationship, new wardrobe, or new hobby.

Inevitably, though, the proverbial bloom on the rose faded and whatever “this” had been became the latest thing that wasn’t.

The problem was, I never did land on the right “answer.”  All my searching and seeking deceived and misled me.  Or more honestly:  I deceived and mislead myself with all my searching and seeking.

I couldn’t understand why I kept getting the answer wrong. I was smart and resourceful. I was making an effort.

Why didn’t I seem to want what I thought I wanted? Why did my “answers” for happiness keep turning out to be wrong?

Shifting Focus

It was only years later I shifted my attention to a different part of the equation, and started to focus less on the answers and more on the questions.

And that has made all the difference.

It finally dawned on me: My answers were someone’s right answers, just not mine.

How did I come to this breakthrough? Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Ana S.

“Why worry about things you can’t control when you can keep yourself busy controlling the things that depend on you?” ~Unknown

Relationships end; everyone knows that. The tough part is actually dealing with suffering, accepting, letting go, moving on, and processing a whole lot of other feelings at the same time.

Six months ago my ex-boyfriend decided to end our relationship because he couldn’t forgive me for a mistake I made.

During the first weeks of our break up I decided that it would be best if I just gave him some time to think things out.  I accepted the consequences of my error and decided not to pressure him.

I knew it was my fault we were in this mess, and he was suffering from my wrongdoing (which didn’t involve infidelity).

After a month we saw each other again, and he told me that he could not forgive me for what I did—that my mistake meant that I didn’t love him and had never loved him throughout our three years together.

I asked for forgiveness. I asked for a second chance. He told me he couldn’t trust me anymore and couldn’t risk getting hurt again. I accepted his decision, and started moving on with my life.

Two months passed, and one night he called me. He told me that he missed me terribly and wanted to see me. The next day we went to Starbucks.

He told me he couldn’t stop thinking about me, that he compared every woman with me, and that he wanted to give “us” a second chance. But then he told me he was too scared to fully commit to me and that he wasn’t sure what he wanted. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Petrea Hansen-Adamidis

“When you doubt your power, you give power to your doubt.” ~Honore de Balzac

A while back I began to feel out of sorts with my writing. It happened after coming down from the high of creating almost nonstop with my inner muse. I noticed that I began to feel down, like the feeling one gets after being at the amusement park when the excitement is over.

Creating and finishing my projects had been a wild ride. It was exciting and intense at times. But once done, an insidious feeling began to over take me.

My thoughts began to wander to “the dark side” questioning my abilities.

What if I can’t create something new? What if people don’t like what I have done?

Like after any expenditure of energy, there is always a lull. Lulls have been known to drain ones creative energy if you let them. I know from experience that if I let myself I can easily slip into a creative stupor.

When in that lull or in that space between creativity, it may seem like nothing is happening. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. We need that break.   

When in this state I feel sensitive and quick to take things personally. I could just do nothing and give in to the disappointment when things have not gone as I have expected. Alternatively, I could use this as motivation, a starting point for another creative endeavor.

But self-doubt has a way of getting under your skin. For me I begin to feel an uprising of the “you’re not good enough” gremlins inside me when this happens.

I remember when this happened after something I submitted online was not accepted.  It felt like a rejection. “Forget it then!” belted out a voice inside with the force of a 2 year-old having a tantrum when she doesn’t get her way.  Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Jessica Dally

“Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.” ~Melody Beattie

I’ve never had a problem with forgiveness.

In high school my mother and I would argue endlessly. Her lectures and my rebellion both had no end. While it was true that my mother had her faults, my independence caused me to be less than willing to follow her direction.

At one point we were arguing, as we usually did, which meant hours of crying and lecturing. As I pointed out to her yet another of her faults she said something that I have never forgotten:

“At least I didn’t tell you that you were worthless.”

She was right. That’s what her mother had drilled into her head again and again, making sure she understood that she had little value to the world. A lesson that I suspect she still believes or at least struggles with.

At some point in her life, perhaps while she was pregnant with me, or maybe before, she determined that this was one legacy she would not pass on. She would never tell me that I had no value, and indeed she never did.

While it may seem like nothing, to struggle against your upbringing, to stop a cycle of emotional abuse, is a phenomenal act of strength.

I didn’t know what I hadn’t received.

Up until that point I hadn’t even thought about the fact that this horrible thing hadn’t happened to me. I only thought about the things I didn’t like—the treatment that was dysfunctional. Click Here to Read More…

by Lori Deschene

Note: The winners for this giveaway have already been chosen. Subscribe to Tiny Buddha to receive free daily or weekly emails and to learn about future giveaways!

The winners:

• Katy
• Ashley
• Dan
• Annie
• BMiller

If you read this site regularly, odds are you’re familiar with mindfulness, and you may even meditate regularly.

It’s a simple practice that can dramatically improve our physical, mental, and emotional well-being, since it helps ground us in the present moment, and frees us from the burden of dwelling on the past or worrying about the future.

Whether you’re new to mindfulness or not, you’ll likely find some helpful tools in The Mindful Manifesto: How Doing Less and Noticing More Can Help Us Thrive in a Stressed Out World. Straight-forward and comprehensive, the book offers detailed instructions to retrain our minds—and be kind to ourselves in the process.

Mindfulness teacher Ed Haliwell, who co-authored The Mindful Manifesto with Dr. Jonty Heaversedge, took some time to answer a few questions about the book; and he generously offered to give away 5 copies to Tiny Buddha readers.

The Giveaway

To enter to win 1 of 5 free copies of The Mindful Manifesto:

• Leave a comment below.
• Tweet: RT @tinybuddha Book GIVEAWAY & Interview: The Mindful Manifesto http://bit.ly/H7vMTw

If you don’t have a Twitter account, you can still enter by completing the first step. You can enter until midnight PST on Friday, April 6^th.

The Interview

1. Tell us a little about yourself. How did you come to teach mindfulness?

I came to mindfulness practice when I was experiencing a lot of stress, depression and anxiety. I kept searching for ways to change how I was feeling, and several people suggested learning to meditate. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Mike Bundrant

“Use what language you will, you can never say anything but what you are.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Imagine using a new language that prevents you from blaming others, being reactive, manipulating, fearing anything in the outside world, needing social approval, being offended by others, and being controlled or controlling others.

Imagine that these problems were simply eliminated from your life because your new language makes them impossible. Welcome to Perceptual Language.

Refined by Jake and Hannah Eagle of Green Psychology, Perceptual Language represents a major development in psychology, perhaps the greatest breakthrough since the days of Freud.

When you learn Perceptual Language, you engage your tongue and your brain toward a new level of enlightenment. Here is a brief overview of how it works.

Principle #1: There is no out there out there.

Perceptual Language honors the principle that we don’t respond to “the world out there.” We respond to our perception of the world. Perception is formed by beliefs, cultural norms, religious affiliation, genetic factors, life experience, sense of right and wrong, and so much more.

All of these factors combine to filter the information that passes through our senses, allowing us to figure out what things mean. In other words, we don’t ever directly experience anything outside of ourselves. We only experience ourselves.

When I listen to my wife talk, I am actually hearing my perception of her words, gestures and so forth. I am making meaning out of what she communicates based on that. This may or not match the meaning she intends to convey.

If I am offended by her, it is important to understand that I am actually offended by what I did with her words based on how I made meaning out of them. In essence, I am offended by her-in-me. Not by her, the real person. I can never experience her, the real person, directly.

In essence, I am offended by this person that I have made a part of me by the way I perceive her. In the end, I am offended by none other than myself. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Katy Cowan

“If you worry about what might be, and wonder what might have been, you will ignore what is.” ~Unknown

Lifestyle. Opportunities. Wealth. Just think how far we’ve come in the past 100 years—especially when you look at what we have today compared with our great grandmothers’ generation.

My great grandmother married very young, lived in the same place her whole life, and had 11 children. She never had a “career” and never got a chance to go on a vacation. Her life was hard, poor, and lacking in any real opportunity.

I wonder if she ever dreamed about moving to another city or transforming her life, or about seeing the world with just a backpack. I bet she did, but back then there weren’t as many opportunities as we have today.

Thanks to technology, the Internet, and an improved society, our lifestyles are completely transformed. We have choices. We can live pretty much anywhere we want. We can travel and see the world.

We can secure jobs on the other side of the planet. We can start our own businesses and serve clients thousands of miles away. It’s definitely an exciting time.

But when there is a wealth of opportunities, choices, and places where we could choose to live, you’d think we’d all be happy, right? Wrong.

You see, the problem with having choices is that we become restless. We can’t settle on what we already have or be satisfied with what we’ve got because we’ll always be wondering about the next big thing.

It’s called “the grass is always greener” syndrome. We think someone else is having a better time elsewhere. We make ourselves miserable by constantly thinking about the unknown in an endless quest to find happiness. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Julia Manuel

“Don’t think you’re on the right road just because it’s a well-beaten path.” ~Unknown

Growing up in Appalachia, women always had grace, class, and sweet iced tea in the refrigerator for unexpected visitors. They smiled when called ma’am or darling and kept an immaculate home.

Many Appalachian women also abided by two rules: It’s impolite to say no, and (my mother’s favorite adage), be as nice as you possibly can and everyone will realize you’re the better person.

For me, this translated as always say yes and play nice. I thought this equated to being compassionate and sensitive.

You’re stranded on the side of the road four hours away during an ice storm? I’ll get you. You want to be intimate on the first date? I don’t want you to dislike me, so okay. You think I’m hateful, unworthy, and a crybaby? You’re probably right.

Yet, I played nice for so long that laughter turned to appeasement, confidence turned to harassment and verbal abuse, kindness turned to obligation. 

As I allowed others to treat me unkindly and without respect, somewhere living soulfully became nonexistent. I always thought that I kept everyone at arm’s length with a smile on my face because I didn’t want to be hurt.

In reality, I was so angry at myself for those specific moments of being run over that I willingly began playing the victim.

It became easier to sabotage myself and continue down that road than to work hard and become a strong, outspoken, and vivacious woman again, which wouldn’t unfold until years later when I spent the night in the middle of nowhere. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Jackie Stewart

“Turn your face toward the sun and the shadows will fall behind you.” ~Maori Proverb

Imagine a graph showing the number of hours the average person spends out of doors today compared with 50 years ago. Imagine another graph showing how many people suffer from depression, stress, and anxiety compared to 50 years ago.

I’m confident that there would be a direct correlation between the two graphs; as one has declined the other has risen.

As we’ve turned our backs on nature we’ve lost our natural source of happiness. By turning our faces back toward the sun we find lasting happiness and more.

My life has led me into nature, away from it and back into the heart of nature again. Now I know there are simple ways we can all reconnect with nature whether we live in the city, the woods, or somewhere in between.

I grew up on the west coast of Scotland between Atlantic waves and rolling hills. The tiny hamlet where I spent the first 17 years of my life had a population of 17 people, and we were 60 miles from the closest cinema or swimming pool.

The primary school population peaked one year when we had 12 pupils gathered from a 10 mile radius. Aged 5–12 we were taught in one classroom by one teacher. They shut the school the year after I went to high school because there was only one pupil left.

I couldn’t wait to swap wild countryside for a different kind of wild. As I grew up, I craved boys, bright lights, big city, excitement, and culture, so I gravitated to London.

On a daily basis my senses were assailed by the buzz of city life.

I stared wide-eyed at advertising posters pasted on the underground and hordes of people who bustled past me in an eclectic mix of style, race, and age. I absorbed myself in the pulsing heart of the vibrant city and forgot about the countryside I’d left behind. Click Here to Read More…

by Lori Deschene

Update: The winners for this giveaway have already been chosen. Subscribe to Tiny Buddha to receive free daily or weekly emails and to learn about future giveaways!

The Winners:

• Amber
• Cris

Have you ever felt like the present moment is passing you by while you’re caught up worrying, analyzing, planning, and trying to protect yourself from pain and loss?

It’s one the pitfalls of the human condition: we often paralyze ourselves in the pursuit of happiness and abundance, and in the process, miss out on the joy right in front of us.

Shyalpa Tenzin Rinpoche has devoted his life to helping people live joyful, mindful lives, free from the burdens of their minds.

In his new book, Living Fully, Finding Joy in Every Breath, Rinpoche summarizes his teachings in succinct, easily digestible sections. The result is a guide for living in the moment, peacefully, connected to the people and the world around us.

The Giveaway

To enter to win 1 of 2 free copies of Living Fully:

• Leave a comment below
• Tweet: RT @tinybuddha Book GIVEAWAY & Interview: Living Fully (comment on the blog to win!) http://bit.ly/ydAMit

If you don’t have a Twitter account, you can still enter by completing the first step. You can enter until midnight PST on Sunday, March 11^th.

The Interview

1. You were trained to be a Lama from the age of four. Did you always feel certain you wanted to be a spiritual teacher?

Even though I was trained in the most ancient Tibetan Buddhist spiritual tradition from a very young age, I personally never intended to become a spiritual leader. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Laura Fenamore

“As long as you make an identity for yourself out of pain, you cannot be free of it.” -Eckhart Tolle

I grew up in what looked like a happy, all-American household—eight children, a dutiful housewife for a mother, and a father who was both a janitor at my school and a member of the Knights of Columbus and American Legion.

However, in the background, terror lurked. My father, verbally and physically abusive, terrorized us every day. Even after growing up, taking back my life and moving across the country, I still wore my victim story like a badge.

“I am so screwed up because of my father,” was the subtext of everything I ever shared about my childhood.

Some years ago, I was having lunch in Los Angeles with my friend Paul, going over all the horrible things that had happened to me in my life.

Suddenly Paul said to me, “Laura, how long are you going to tell that story and be a victim of that story?”

I was shocked. I responded, “You don’t understand!  This man—my father—tried to ruin my life!” and, “You don’t understand what hell I’ve been through!” and, “You just don’t understand!”

He said, “I understand. I just want to know how long you are going to tell the story.”

Fortunately, beneath my initial reaction, I knew he was right. It was in that moment that I realized I’d been going through my life thinking I was earning purple hearts for having the worst childhood story.

The truth was that my story was holding me back from healing. I had this sad core belief that my story made me friends by getting people to pity me.

In reality, my defining myself only by my pain was actually pushing people away. My suffering was leading me nowhere. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Andrea Wren

“Every day brings a choice: to practice stress or to practice peace.” ~Joan Borysenko

When I bought my car, I visited only one showroom. I’d made the decision that this was the car for me in around one hour, and chose not to spend more hours or days of my time going from one place to another to check other deals and different cars.

If I hadn’t have found this car, I would have gone to another dealer. However, I’ll never know if I could have saved money by haggling elsewhere, and I don’t care.

I’ve had my trusty and reliable vehicle for over six years now and so far, I’ve never had to pay more than general maintenance and upkeep. So it was worth every penny.

You may be shocked that I made such a large and important purchase in this manner (and I’m not a wealthy person by any means). But I was confident it was a good deal when I found it and it’s never let me down.

I now make most of my purchases like this. I’ll give myself a single option (like shopping at just one store), or will limit them (such as browsing four vacation brochures instead of fifteen), and once I’m happy with the decision, I’ll stick with it.

Why? Because I think too much choice is stressful. And you can quite literally send yourself crazy with it, like I did.

Choice anxiety!

At one time, my need to “shop around” and my desire to keep options open before making decisions was bordering on obsessive. I dithered. I wore myself out. I got confused, and even anxious, when I needed to buy stuff, even if it was just a new winter coat. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Pamela Jorrrick

“Sometimes the most important thing in a whole day is the rest we take between two deep breaths.” ~Etty Hillesum

For the second time in a week, the gas light comes on in my car. I’m busy, as usual, and so I push it a little farther, run just a few more errands. But I know that I do need to stop and refill before too long, or I will be left on the side of the road. I’ve been stranded before, and have learned my lesson.

Most of us know that when our cars try to tell us they need something, we had better respond or they won’t get us to our destinations.

We usually have some respect for red warning lights on the dashboard, and at least check out the problem. Unfortunately, it’s not always so easy to see our own signals.

Our bodies and minds don’t come with bright red warning lights, but they do give us signals when they’re running low.

Some of these signals are more obvious than others. When we’re hungry, we might be able to skip a meal occasionally, relying on snacks to get us by, but we all know that at some point, we need to eat real food.

We might be able to miss a few hours of sleep as well, and make it through the next day, but we can’t simply expect our bodies to keep performing without rest.

We may be able to survive in a grumpier and lesser performing fashion when we have less than optimal amounts of food and sleep, but we all know that we can’t skip those needs altogether.

But, what about the other needs that aren’t so obvious? Everyone has probably heard about the benefits of spending some time alone just to think and to gather their own thoughts.

If you work, go to school, have a roommate, spouse or children, this time probably isn’t easy to come by. It’s probably also more important than ever.

Lately, I’ve noticed just how important this need for solitude is to me. As a writer who works at home, as well as a homeschooling mother, I am blessed with lots of time with my family. What I’m lacking severely is time to myself.

Between errands, online college classes, a part-time job, volunteering, and meeting the needs of everyone else, I often end up neglecting my own need for a moment to myself to think, breathe, read, write, draw, paint, or do anything that helps me relax. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Vlad Rapoport

“Remembering a wrong is like carrying a burden on the mind.” ~Buddha

It was a beautiful spring morning when I was terminated from my job. Before it happened, there were rumors, but I refused to believe that something like that could actually happen to me. I felt betrayed by the manner in which the termination occurred.

Without any substantiation, my company suggested that my ethics were compromised and I embezzled from the company funds. Soon thereafter I learned that the sole motive for the company was to replace me and my assistant with part-time employees to avoid paying full-time employee wages and benefits.

In reality, I worked hard, and often went out of my way for the benefit of the company. And yet, I got laid off.

At first I was shocked in disbelief, with anger and resentment following close behind. I even contacted a couple of attorneys to see if I may have a case. As time went on, I actually realized that losing this job was probably the best thing for me. I moved on.

Or so I thought…

When there is suppressed anger and resentment, we don’t really move on at all. We have a way of pushing away unpleasant emotions. We push away anger and resentments.

But these emotions get stored and accumulate in our subconscious. And while consciously we remain unaware of the damage they cause, they reveal themselves in our physical and emotional health. So there I was, going on with my life not realizing that on a deeper level, I was still holding on to the past.

My suppressed anger ended up rearing its ugly head in both my personal and professional lives. It affected the way I interacted with people around me and reflected in my health. I got diagnosed with depression.

Disbelieving that something was actually wrong with me, I was caught off guard at first. But inevitably, I had to face the truth. I had to become a good observer of myself and my emotions.

I had to teach myself the difference between “thinking” that I was well and actually “being” well. Gradually, I learned. Gradually, I dug deep enough to see the truth. And the day that I honestly saw my anger and pain was the day that I took my first step toward forgiveness—and freedom.

When Mahatma Gandhi was dying, he raised his hands up from his bullet wound and gestured a sign of forgiveness to his assassin. This drastic example illustrates that Mahatma Gandhi knew that forgiveness came from sacrifice and love.

Over a year after I got laid off, I felt compelled to write an email to the person responsible for letting me go. I told him that I was OK and that I harbored no hard feelings. I also thanked him for sending me on the journey of self-discovery. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Melissa Moore

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

My mom leaned in and gave me a goodnight kiss. The only light illuminating her face was coming from the hallway. I looked up at her, and in the confidence of the dark confessed, “I saw it.”

“It” was my birthday present, waiting patiently for me to wake up in the morning and claim it from its place in the garage. “It” was a turquoise blue Stingray bicycle with a white pleather banana seat and an extra tall sissy bar.

I’d seen it by chance, tucked back in a dark corner, and knew instantly it was for me.

I couldn’t stop myself from ruining my mom’s surprise. I just couldn’t contain my joy. That bike was the answer to my 10 year-old dreams.

And I wasn’t disappointed.

My new bike was the coolest mode of freedom I could imagine. It took me to the local pharmacy for candy and back to the school playground to meet up with my friends. Like an addict, I lusted for the feeling I got from riding past the Skerkoske’s house, Marcia Brady hair blowing in the breeze, singing “I Think I Love You” at the top of my lungs.

Riding something so beautiful gave me all kinds of cocky confidence. I was fearless. Within days, I was pedaling through the neighborhood, arms waving madly in the air, shouting “Look at me world!  I’m riding with no hands!”

I let go without ever calculating the risks involved.

Fear crept up on me gently, a part of the ever expanding feeling of responsibility that came along with growing up.  

Or maybe I’d heard “Hold on to that bike young lady! Do you want to end up in the hospital?!” one too many times. Whatever the cause, the magic of my turquoise blue Stingray was no longer enough to make me feel invincible.

I grew afraid of falling off.  Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Tim McAuley

“Our greatness lies not so much in being able to remake the world as being able to remake ourselves.” ~Gandhi

At some point during 2005 I discovered the sense that I am connected to everything; that nothing exists outside of me. This realization came while surfing with a friend of mine. From that moment, surfing became a religion for me.

I sat on top a surf board about 100 yards off the sand, just a little north of the San Onofre Nuclear Power Plant in San Clemente, California for hours on end every single day.

At some point during each session the endorphins would kick in. My mind would empty and I would relax. The best word to describe it would be bliss.

Off the surf board I spent most of my time at the public library reading books about the human experience—history, psychology, religion, and spirituality. Each morning as I sank into this blissful state I allowed the information to pour over me in a manner that Thich Naht Hanh called Dharma Rain. I just breathed deeply and joyfully as my mind filtered information looking for truth.

I could have easily stayed in that state of bliss had I not needed to go to work, or interact with most of the people around me. I’ve never been much of a joiner. Monkhood was off the table.

I tended bar just a few nights a week. I had been sober for nearly a year, but rarely became thirsty even working. It was a means to an end, and it afforded me more free time than any other job out there.

Tending bar also brought into focus the idea that all I observe is a reflection of me. I owe most of real growth “spiritually” not to the texts, not to meditation, and not even to surfing; I owe it to my time slinging drinks. Click Here to Read More…

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Cathy Taughinbaugh

“Joy is what happens to us when we allow ourselves to recognize how good things really are.” ~Marianne Williamson

Are you a dog lover? I know I am.

Animals of all kinds can bring us so much joy, not only when things are going well, but also when we feel pain and are suffering.

“Man’s best friend” can be our true and faithful companions through thick and thin. We look to our pets when we are ready to play and laugh, and they instinctively know when we need their support.

I’ve had a dog most of my life. From purebreds to mutts, I’ve loved them all. It has always felt comforting to me to have a dog around. The joy dogs provide is well worth the effort.

We all have struggles and challenges in our life, and it’s during those times that our pets can really come in handy to help us find our joy.

One of my most stressful challenges was discovering my daughter’s addiction to crystal meth. I felt blindsided by this discovery. I knew she was struggling, but this was something I had never expected.

I learned from this experience that the time I have spent working on myself, as opposed to the time I have spent trying to fix her problem, has been the most meaningful and the most productive. Despite having addiction in my life, I could find my joy again.

For parents in the midst of addiction with their children, it can be emotionally exhausting for long periods of time. It’s easy to let the stress of the situation overtake you.

I am one of the lucky ones. My daughter has gone on to seek recovery for her addiction. She has grown and matured in ways I would never have expected.

We have both learned life lessons, and have evolved into new and hopefully better people. We both know to take it one day at a time.

From this experience, I found I needed to change. I needed to approach life in a new way.

As I watch my dog go through her day, I realize the lessons are really right there in front of me if I care to pay attention.

Here are some of the ways I can be the person my dog wants me to be, and be the person I want to be as well. I know that whatever life brings me, joy is still always there for the taking. Click Here to Read More…