Author: admin

How to Have Empathy for Yourself

Is it just me, or am I waayyy harder on myself than ANYONE ELSE IN MY LIFE? Do we all have this problem, or is it just the chosen few of us who have, for some reason, decided to hold ourselves up to expectations that far exceed what we would even consider is reasonable, or at best likely, from another human? Why can’t I just give myself a freaking break?? Must first. Get out. Of my own way. 

I’m not ashamed to admit that my biggest struggles in life are rooted in a deep-seated feeling of being unlovable as a human, or displeasing to God at-large. Well, maybe I am a little ashamed—comes with the territory of the topic. I have spent much time, thought, energy, and discipline toward correcting this extremely non-productive, fear-based approach to life and trying to teach myself how to “live like you’re loved,” even when I don’t feel it at all. But this has been a difficult, bumpy journey, full of self-hacking to figure out 1) why I feel the way I do in the first place, and 2) what snaps me out of it. Today I want to talk about a little trick I taught myself that I’ll call Me, from the Clouds.

Forget who I see when I look in the mirror in the morning. Forget the person I’m afraid my kids see when they look at me and all I can think about inside is their potential disappointment in me not being a good mom to them, or why they may not feel loved enough because I screwed something up. Forget about the person I’m worried my boss is seeing, the one who doesn’t turn around creative work quick enough, who isn’t managing responsibilities with enough attention, and who may or may not put in enough hours during the day, working from home. Forget about the failed daughter that my mother sees, the one who probably is going to hell for getting divorced, who has the wrong priorities, who isn’t taking care of herself or her children in the right way. Forget about the extra weight that’s permanently stuck to my inner thighs and lower belly. Nobody can see this woman from the clouds.

What does Me, from the Clouds look like then? What do the clouds see about me? How do they define who I am? Well, as they can’t see me all that close up, they probably view me as an average woman, similar to all the other women on the planet. Nothing about my general appearance is offensive from that distance. They see me doing a lot of things. They see me often trying to get up way before sunrise to be a more productive person, to give more in this world. They see me shadowing my children around, driving endless distances to drop them off and pick them up and take care of all their appointments, birthday parties, and trips to Grandma’s house when they are craving a weekend in the country. They see me looking up at them often, appreciating the beauty of this world, trying to get face time with God, and feeling that mystical connection that binds all of the energy in our world. They see me on the ground at times, when I have taken a blow, and they see me dancing and laughing when I let myself lighten up. They’ve seen me on my knees plenty. They’ve sometimes seen me even a little bit closer up, in the sky, when I’ve traveled to distant lands, lit up with that sense of adventure and exploration that I adore. 

Do the clouds think I’m lovable? From their view, I would think so. In fact, from the outside, probably even most other humans watching would think Me, from the Clouds is a pretty decent person. Definitely not perfect, but other humans tend to understand that this is part of the human condition. Imperfect is still lovable and acceptable.

My boyfriend has laughingly said to me before: How can you possibly expect me, or anyone else, to be on your team, if you can’t even be on it?? You should be the team captain!

He’s right. I should. But for whatever reason, this is super hard for me on this level, looking dead on at the woman staring back at me in the mirror. But if I can just close my eyes, get way above my messy thoughts and the constant noise in my brain and look down at myself from a little perch up in the sky…I take a giant baby step toward seeing the kind, lovely person that I want to be. J

How Many Times Can You Start Over?

As many as it takes until you get it right? Or does there come a point in time when you should really recognize that you’re probably better off putting your energy elsewhere? The answer here is obvious, right? It depends. 🙂 

Perhaps it would help, when pondering this question, if I seek an answer that considers all types of endeavors that I may be facing, both big and small, so that I can establish a general philosophy for approaching my…approach. Let’s start with the micro level.

Let’s say I want to organize my closet, or rather, I want my closet to be organized. I’ve been wanting this for the past 3 years that I’ve lived in my house, but I haven’t managed to get it done. I’ve said “today is the day” a million times, I’ve put it as a to-do on weekend project lists, but I’ve never actually started the activity in a real way. Perhaps I’ve pulled a couple shirts out to donate, straightened my shoes, or dusted once or twice. But the results of these small actions are hardly visible; I need massive action, as Tony Robbins says.

The funny thing is that I know how to organize my closet—I understand the steps involved and the time commitment it requires. But I still haven’t managed to get it done in 3 years. Does that mean I am incapable of doing it? Do I lack the innate skills needed to complete a closet organization project? Is it worth even saying “today is the day” I will finally get it done?

Of course it is, I think we can all agree. It’s the only way to actually get it done. If I want my closet to be organized, I have to keep putting “organize closet” on my to-do list, until I finally carve out the space in my head and my life to cross it off, even if it means calling a professional to do it for me. This goes for any tactical item on our to-do lists—we know the steps involved, we know the time required, and if we just direct our energy toward a specific task, it will get done. It’s pretty much as simple as that. If we want it done, we must keep trying over and over until we finally get there.

So can the same be said for greater goals, where we don’t know the steps in between where we are and where want to be? How many times should we attempt them? Let’s say that my goal is somewhat “big”, meaning that it can’t be done overnight and will take some incremental successes to reach the final destination, like opening a restaurant or writing a book, or starting a new career post-divorce, or organizing my house, or getting 1 million followers on Instagram.     

How many times is it worth “starting” activities in line with achieving these goals? 10? 100? 1,000? In the last example of one million followers on Instagram—would one million attempts be warranted, one per follower that I win over? I have to believe that if I tried one million times to get one million followers, that I would eventually succeed at my goal—after all, that is a lot of tries! But would it be worth the effort?

I guess it depends on how much I want to reach that particular goal, or destination. If a person wants to lose 100 pounds, and they make 1 million choices over the course of a few years that each bring them one step closer to that 100-pound target, is THAT worth the effort? At the end of a few years, I would think so. The trick would be to not growing weary of the trying.

There are so many sayings about not giving up when you’re trying to achieve a goal. Failing along the way is a must, a good thing. You can only eat an elephant one bite at a time. Continuing to put one foot in front of the other, even when the odds are stacked against you, will eventually have you arriving in a different destination. My favorite Winnie the Pooh quote of all time is “I always get to where I’m going by walking away from where I’ve been.” If only we could just change our behaviors and our habits that easily, I bet all of our goals would be achieved! Pooh is so genius.

But in practice, it can feel ridiculous to keep saying to myself the same “beginner lines” over and over: Today, I will change. From now on, I am pursuing this goal 100%. The diet starts today. Today, I will start being a better parent to my kids. Today, I will start figuring out how to make more money.

The unspoken word here is again. Again, again, again I will try to fully throw myself in the effort of trying to achieve this goal that I desire to achieve so much. I screwed it up yesterday, and last week, but I’m starting again today, and this time I mean it. But how many times should I go through these motions before I call it quits? Especially in the lack of being able to see any progress I’ve made toward this goal that I desire so much, and especially when the getting started part seems to be my biggest hurdle, does it still make sense to even try again? Why now? What is different about this attempt that could yield a different result?

I believe this is a question of faith. Do I believe that I can achieve the goal? Do I believe that success is even possible? Do I truly want to arrive at the destination that this journey may lead me to? Do I trust in God’s plan, even if it is different from my own?

To me, it seems somewhat black & white that if you are trying to pursue a “big” or complicated, lengthy, or lofty goal, then of course it makes sense to try and try again. In fact, there’s no way you could accomplish it without recommitting to the purpose over and over. But this is not the same thing as starting over.

Starting over implies that you have made no progress, and that you are exactly in the same position that you were the very first time you tried to do this thing. And this is where it’s necessary to have faith in the process of becoming, so to speak, and faith that you are in a different place of your journey today than you were in yesterday, if for no reason other than that you are older now and have had more life experience. Perhaps you haven’t changed your behaviors just yet, or seen any results of your progress—or maybe it even appears that you’re progressing in the wrong direction; but hey, at least now you know what doesn’t work. This is progress. With each failure, you’re taking one step closer to having the knowledge, the strength, and the drive to finally take steps in the right direction, closer to your goal. And if you truly want to achieve it, you have to keep trying, no matter how many times it takes. It’s truly the only way to get there.

Today, I commit, for the millionth time, to become the person I want to be. To raise my boys in love, to show God’s love to others, to have grace, to have wealth, to have knowledge, to be effortlessly healthy and attractive, to be creative and to create.

Too lofty? Maybe. But the only way I’ll know for sure is to give it a go. Again.

You Are Not Actually Getting Away with Anything

This is my mantra to myself for perpetuating bad habits that I know I should break, and that I actually want to break, but struggle to make the commitment to change.

I’ve learned that commitment is what change is really all about. Commitment and baby steps. The combination of those two things can break down any massive change into a long journey of incremental steps that, over time, begin to feel more natural and less disruptive. We all know that the only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time.

But what I’m talking about here is the lack of that commitment. This is the phase before you really put your foot down, when you can envision the changes you want and you can say out loud that you desire them to take place, but you’re still really fighting with the idea of putting in the work to get there.

Sometimes I feel like I live in this place.

It’s the moments like when I eat the dessert, or I press snooze on the alarm 10 times, or I stay up extra late watching Netflix and drinking a bottle of wine instead of going to bed early to wake up early, or I write the same damn item on my to-do list for months on end. Just because no one sees me doing these things (except me and my Maker and however many angels in heaven I have looking down on me, which I hope is a lot), doesn’t mean that I am getting away with it! And just because these actions in and of themselves are harmless in the universe at large, it doesn’t mean that they don’t harm me. They get me nowhere near where I want to go. And ultimately, I believe that happiness in this life—i.e., the absence of suffering, can only be achieved through two things, preferably in concert: loving others and acting out what you believe to be your own unique raison d’etre. (I am not saying it’s possible to completely escape suffering, nor do I think that is something we should desire anyway. Suffering is a healthy part of life. But let’s let the suffering come from things that we cannot control, not the things that we can.)

Of course, finding your purpose in this life is a challenge and a topic for another great discussion. But if you have even an inkling of an image in your head of “future you” or “ideal you”—you know, the one that, if you died tomorrow, you would be satisfied with as a lasting image for your life, simply because that person did the things it did or was the person it was—then move toward that, not away from it. When you take steps in the opposite or even sideways direction of where you want to go, even if no one sees you, or if it feels good in the moment, just remind yourself that you’re not actually getting away with anything. Good things—things better than you are experiencing now—are actually being taken away.

What is actually getting away with something is moving steadily closer and closer to your goals, one baby step at a time. If you can see your target in the distance, and you keep moving close and closer to it…one day you will meet it face to face. And just think of what you could really get away with then!

I am writing this now with the knowledge that I am, in some places in my life, stepping in the wrong direction. But in other places, I have taken timid steps in the right direction, and the fruit of my hard work is abundant. I wish that for all parts of my life, but I am just as weak and human as most. I write this as a reminder to myself to keep trying, to see the value in the hard work and little victories, and most of all, to never stop believing that change is possible. It is simply a re-direct of energy.

Is Our Fate Already Determined?

This is one of life’s big questions, right? Whether or not we are born with a destiny to take certain steps in our lives, or whether or not we are actually pulling our own strings…

I imagine I could read and read in philosophy books the different theories on this. Or maybe there is a conclusive one that everyone already agrees upon, and I’m still pondering for some reason. I am not a philosopher, though I do aspire to read more philosophy one day when the kids are off to college and I can hear myself think again. But for now, I am sticking to examining my own life and experiences to sort out my perspective on this existence.

Not that long ago, my uber-Catholic mother gave me a finger-pointing lecture when I suggested to her that I believed “when it’s your time to die, you’re gonna die, no matter what you’re doing.” I guess I’ve heard enough people in life throw around this expression that I had accepted it as a universal truth. Leave it to my mother to tell me, at circa 40 years old, that I am wrong, as ever.

My statement was prompted by her commentary on a few of her senior friends who had recently traveled to the Holy Land, which she considered a highly dangerous endeavor. She commented that “I guess you get bolder about putting yourself in risky situations the closer you get to death.” And now you know what I said in response.

“Do you not believe that our actions impact our lives?” she asked me. Of course I do, I said. “Then your logic is flawed,” she came back at me. And then proceeded to remind me that the Bible is full of messages about how our lives are not pre-determined, and that God gives us free will to make decisions and to reap the gains or the losses that result from our actions.

I believe this, and I have experienced it. But I have also experienced the power of God moving mountains in my life and making things happen when I didn’t necessarily make the right decisions to make them happen for myself. Haven’t we all had those moments when an event, an encounter, or the situation that you suddenly find yourself in, is so unlikely and yet so fortuitous to your existence, that you know that it can only be the result of divine orchestration? Or, on a more basic level, who hasn’t done something extremely risky to the continuation of their own existence, like drunk driving in college, and somehow still found themselves alive the next morning, ready for the next adventure? The youth think they’re invincible, and oftentimes really are…but not without purpose.

A better example: I’ve probably taken 100+ flights in my life thus far, but I’m still afraid of flying. I know it’s ridiculous and embarrassing to admit, but the fear is real. There’s something about being untethered from the gravity that holds me to the surface of the earth that makes me feel so vulnerable and so insignificant that it seems the universe could just let go of me and the entire plane, and that would be the end. Since I was a teenager, I’ve explained to people that “I reconcile myself with death” every time I step foot on a plane. And dozens and dozens of flights later, it’s still the same. So, over years, I have cultivated some coping mechanisms to better handle the fear (so at least I know I’m evolving in some way), and one of them is to tell myself that if the Lord is ready to take me, he will take me no matter where I am or what I’m doing. And I believe that. (Another one is to look around the plane and see the collection of so many different, beautiful souls that are full of life and to think about how valuable they are to the world, which gives me confidence that there is no way it could be the day for all of those people to go. In particular, I focus on children.)

But when it comes down to it, I believe that if it is my moment to die, I will die. Is that flawed thinking? If it’s the day before the day I die, or even hours leading up to it, then I think I can still try to talk God out of it. I think I can plead for my life with my actions and prayer. I can choose not to get on a plane or to drive drunk or to even leave the house if I sense that there may be some danger lurking outside. But when the real moment comes, when God has made his choice, the moment has arrived.  On the flip side, this doesn’t mean that I willingly put myself in dangerous situations because of this sense of fatalism. I don’t drive around without a seat belt. I won’t walk around downtown alone at night. But I will use planes for travel, and I would take one to the Holy Land if I had the opportunity. I guess a larger question, which has no set answer, is what’s the true meaning of dangerous. That’s obviously completely subjective. My mom and I are coming at the given scenario from somewhat different angles, but I’m inclined to believe that, in moments of actual practice, we would take a similar path. She is inclined to lecture me on Catholic dogma at every chance she gets, but as the bottom line for most people, I believe, is relatively similar—it is for me and her as well (whether or not she admits it). In the end, we are all just trying to make the most out of all of the moments that we are given on this earth…right up until the last second before our time comes, however it comes and whenever it may be.  

You Absolutely MUST Believe in Yourself

Otherwise, honestly, you will get nowhere. Not far, at least. You may get somewhere, but it will be awfully similar to where you are right now.

It’s that whole idea of doing the same thing over and over every day but expecting different results. We all know that’s insanity. But even before we scrutinize our actions of every day, we have to scrutinize our thoughts. Why? Because thoughts lead to action. Thoughts are what fills our brain, solidifies our beliefs, and what ultimately makes us put one foot in front of the other.

If we don’t believe that we are capable of achieving anything great, we never will. If we don’t believe we are capable of making even small things happen, like losing 10 pounds, or saving $1000, we won’t do it. Why would our body act in betrayal to what we believe about ourselves in our own consciousness? The body wouldn’t fight against us in that way. Our bodies, on the inside and out, take direction from our minds.

For years, I’ve held the fear that there is something wrong with me. Either physically, mentally, or just on the inside. There are reasons for this, of course. For one, my parents used heavy shame-based parenting growing up, frequently insinuating that there was something wrong with me if I didn’t subscribe to their belief systems. To the extent that I sometimes hear myself mimicking my dad’s favorite chastisement: “What is wrong with you?!” to my young children (gotta stop that). And there’s also my mother finding out a few years ago that she had stage 4 ovarian cancer living inside of her but had no idea until it was basically taking over her entire abdomen…of course it makes me worry that something terrible is going on inside of me that I haven’t discovered yet. But now I’m finally starting to realize that none of these events in my life, or the lives of others, mean that there may actually be anything wrong with me. I might actually be just perfect the way that I was created, different as can be from my mom or anyone else around me. And in the process of trying to somehow protect myself from these events by maintaining a constant level of fear of what is wrong with me, I may actually be manifesting illness inside of me just with my thoughts. My very fear could be my own demise. This is not what I want to do! The more I think about having “something wrong”…the more I might be creating a problem. Must. Stop. Now. What if I am already in a state of perfect health? What if my insides are untouchable by disease and degeneration? What if I have such a purpose on this earth that God, the God that I feel inside of me and that I see working on earth every day, is protecting every aspect of wellness that I hold just so I can carry out my mission? What if.

This sounds like a better philosophy to live by. Yes, I should make good choices to extend my health and well being as much as is in my power. But we all know those people who don’t do that, and who end up living long, productive lives. The ones who smoke for 50 years, like my grandmother, but lived to her 80s without ever getting lung cancer. She never let go of her 1920s belief that cigarette smoking was acceptable. Or other people I know, who have nourished themselves largely with processed carbohydrates, canned goods, no sunscreen, and rare glasses of water who somehow maintain their “healthy as a horse” status well into retirement. You hear older people say things like “I’ve been eating this my entire life, and it works for me.” When they’re referring to white toast, bacon, and fried food, you wonder how that can be true. But if their mind has convinced their body that it is in perfect health, and that there is nothing wrong with their approach…how can it not be true?

If you don’t believe in yourself, it’s possible that no one else will, and even worse, that your own body will give up on you. Why go that route, when you could just as easily choose to believe that you have infinite potential, limitless possibilities, perfect health, and are loved. Let go of the doubt, believe in your desires, and see where it takes you.

Forcing Change

How many times have I decided to finally “do something” or make some change that I desire in my life, yet hardly actually change my actions at all?

The number is embarrassing, confounding even. I have recognized that those decisive moments are usually made in moments of pain, when I am feeling the suffering and the frustration of the consequences of not making the changes I desire. Like looking at myself naked in the morning, so unhappy with the muffin top spilling over my jeans, resolving to quit sugar for good. Like having a hard time concentrating at work and taking twice as long to do what I need to do because my head is foggy from drinking wine last night. Won’t do that ever again. 😉 Like telling my son that I still haven’t finished the photo album that he’s been asking me to make for him for 6 months, so he can get all of his memories straight surrounding his pre-divorce and post-divorce lives. In those moments, I resolve. I resolve to change, to do better, to put forth action that is in line with my goals.

But then come the moments that are not filled with pain, the moments where I forget about how bad it feels to not align my actions with my goals. The moments where I’m high on sex or sleep, or sugar or wine or exercise or good weather or whatever other lovely thing in this life is making me feel like I don’t need to try that hard. Like I need to take it easy and enjoy. It seems like the “try hards” and the “enjoy lifers” are in such different camps. Can’t we meet in the middle somewhere?

I see these self-help gurus who promote waking up at 4 a.m. every day, reigning in so much satisfaction from their 10-step morning routines, and who accomplish more before 9 a.m. than I do before 5:00 p.m. I want their drive. But when I’m lying in bed in the morning, and my alarm goes off before dawn, I feel like I’m being torn from one of my greatest daily purposes—letting my body rest and restore from all of the challenges of the day before, and I think: isn’t sleeping the most productive thing I can do now? Won’t this give me the strength I need to really rise up to the day’s challenges? I don’t know. I could sleep 12 hours every night, so I might have an extreme opinion here. Sleep is just such a beautiful thing to me. But what could I do with 10 extra hours during the work week if I just got up earlier? How beautiful could that be???

They say that points of change come when the pain of things not changing, or the pain of staying the same, finally outweighs the pain of progress. But truly, as humans, I think we have a very high tolerance for enduring pain that we know. We find our vices, we brace ourselves, we incorporate that struggle into our perceptions of ourselves…and we make it part of who we are. That becomes scary to let go.

I tend to be an “all or nothing” type of gal when it comes to making up my mind about something and going for it, so incremental change feels so lame to me. But “making up your mind” can sometimes take years. Or may never happen. One time I researched lots of different diet reviews to see if I could find anything they had in common, and I did. It was the people. The majority of success story videos started with someone saying “I made up my mind” or “I decided” or “I COMMITTED.” And that’s what makes it work. Doesn’t really matter what diet you choose; just matters that you put your foot down and actually take the next step forward. But what if you’re not there? Not ready to put your foot down. Then I do believe that making small changes adds up to big ones. I hate this approach. You don’t get the satisfaction of seeing results quickly; your tough little baby steps feel meaningless…but you actually do get somewhere eventually. I have tried this approach with things that I wanted to change, but that I wasn’t quite ready yet to make the big commitment and go all in. And 6 months later, when I look back and think to where I was back when, I feel good. And that’s mainly because the baby changes actually stuck. In that slow-motion time approach, they don’t feel like changes; they feel like me doing what I want. And the 6-months-ago version of myself seems strange and not like me anymore. That’s where you want to be post-change. Like you’ve found a version of yourself that resonates with you more. That’s a true escape from the pain of staying the same.