How To Be At Peace When Everyone Says You Shouldn’t Be

a view of clouds from an airplane.

There’s no doubt 2016 has been a crazy year. We’ve seen more tragedies, tensions, and surprises than any of us can keep track of, and the hits just keep on coming. The events of this year have had many people glued to their televisions and sucked into the social media vortex, trying to keep up with the latest information about the most current major news item. But at the rate this information—both accurate and sensationalized—is pumped out by the media, it’s impossible to keep up.

The beautiful thing about having access to as much information as we do is that we’re able to maintain a sense of awareness about what’s going on in the world. Through this awareness, we can access our ability to speak up and take action wherever appropriate. We can hold our leaders accountable and be agents of change.  But of course, there’s also a down side to having a constant stream of information accessible around the clock. If we aren’t mindful and moderate about our news consumption, we’re likely to experience negative emotions and generate certain assumptions about the world.

We don’t need to try too hard to find reasons to be discouraged and disappointed about the state of things, and we’re persistently given reasons to feel anxious and afraid. For example, just a moment ago I received an email from a local publication with the subject: “Now that the election is over, here are some local issues for you to worry about.” If we allow the emotions stoked in us by the news to dictate the way we experience the world, it’s going to shape that experience in unhelpful ways. We’re likely to look around us with suspicion and judgment, seeing things that support and confirm a pessimistic perspective about our world and its future.

There’s a popular line of reasoning in our culture that suggests a person must be fully informed about everything going on in the world in order to be a good citizen. Now, I’m not opposing that view, as it’s certainly important to have some sense of what’s going on. But if getting informed means getting anxious, angry, guarded, hopeless, or overwhelmed, that’s pretty obviously counterproductive. So how can we remain peaceful and hopeful when everyone’s suggesting that we should be anything but that? Here are just a few ideas for creating that possibility:

  • Walk the middle path. As with just about everything in life, balance is key when it comes to consuming information about current events (and related projections for the future). Stay informed only to the extent that it allows you to direct your energy and efforts toward positive change. Anything more has the potential to perpetuate the problems at hand.
  • Be peace. Even when everything around you suggests otherwise, peace is always available to you. And you are powerful enough to create it. Be intentional about finding opportunities to generate a sense of peace and stillness within, and know that by radiating that peace outward to everyone around you, you’re making an invaluable contribution to the world.
  • Be daring enough to hope. It’s a radical act to be hopeful when there’s little evidence that the future is bright. But if you want to remain peaceful and be a source of change for the future, you must hold on to hope at all costs. And once you’ve got a firm grasp, start sharing that hope with others, getting them to see what you do.
  • Trust that everything has its purpose. It’s not easy to access trust when everything seems like it’s falling apart. And within the context of a cultural climate that is generally pessimistic, it’s even harder to be trusting. But when you can find the faith that everything occurring is part of a plan—perhaps serving as a painful yet necessary step toward true progress—you will find that peace is possible.

Now, more than ever, the world needs us to stay grounded, keep our hearts open, and be instruments of peace. It’s up to all of us to create the world we want to live in and leave behind. So as the spiritual teacher Mooji so beautifully said, “Don’t remind the world that it is sick and troubled. Remind it that it is beautiful and free.”

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Zen and Zoned Out Are Not The Same Thing

an image of a foggy forest.

 

As a spiritually minded psychotherapist, peace proponent, and student of Buddhism, I love watching the West wake up to the wisdom of ancient Eastern traditions.  It thrills me to know that people are getting intentional about creating more harmony and stillness in their lives, because I’m fully convinced that what the world needs now, above all else, is a more intentional, more finely attuned sense of awareness and presence among all human beings. When I see any indication that we’re moving in that direction, I feel gratified and hopeful. But here’s the thing: Owning a yoga mat doesn’t make you a yogi, telling people you meditate isn’t the same thing as meditating, and being Zen isn’t the same thing as saying you are. That might sound harsh, but I’m making this point for an important reason. In the instant-gratification-based culture we live in, it’s easy to confuse exposure with understanding. To truly understand something, you must immerse yourself in it, exploring it from multiple angles and seeking to gain as much knowledge about it as possible. And so it is with spiritual traditions and practices like Zen.

The most direct translation of the word Zen is meditation, but the true meaning of Zen can’t fully be expressed in words. Perhaps the closest we can come is to say that Zen is a state of being that involves a sense of connection to a power greater than oneself. It’s a way of living in the present moment and fully experiencing reality as it’s unfolding, with no preference for what happens. It means being aware of the interconnectedness of all living things, and flowing with the universe. Put simply, Zen is an orientation toward life that generates a sense of peace, equanimity, acceptance, and contentment. To be Zen is to be committed to maintaining clarity and remaining grounded in the present moment, no matter how challenging it is to do so.

In our culture, when people talk about “getting Zen” or “being Zen,” they’re usually referring to something along the lines of relaxing, reducing stress, slowing down, or finding peace. And that’s a wonderful thing. But calming down isn’t necessarily the same thing as finding Zen. The reason this distinction matters is that often, our efforts to relax and calm down involve checking out or numbing ourselves to what’s happening—and that isn’t Zen at all! To adopt a Zen mentality is to be at one with whatever we’re experiencing, without trying to manipulate or change it so we can feel better. When we experience Zen, we’re acknowledging and accepting what is, rather than attempting to make it something else.

Although there isn’t an explicit goal in Zen practice, the purpose is to generate greater awareness and appreciation for what’s happening in the present moment. When we confuse zoning out for Zen, we sell ourselves short of experiencing everything that can unfold and open up for us when we accept what we’re feeling instead of trying to OM it away. There’s a commonly used expression among therapists and healers that says, “The only way out is through.” This simple statement speaks to the difference between numbing out and knowing Zen. It’s easy to check out of the present moment by turning on a meditation CD or lighting some candles; but I challenge you to make your practice deeper than that. Don’t settle for artificial peace. Practice loving and staying present with whatever is occurring in the present moment—no matter how unpleasant it may be—and know that true peace awaits you on the other side.

You Are Not Who You Think You Are

a person standing on a beach with a surfboard.

One of my clients recently shared with me that he had a dream in which every mirror he looked into reflected back to him a terrifying, gruesome face that didn’t resemble his own. No matter how many mirrors he tried or how many attempts he made to find himself reflected clearly, all he could see was that hideous visage. Although my client was undoubtedly disturbed by his dream, we discovered together that it served as an important metaphor for something he was addressing in his work with me. Like the mirrors in his dreams that would only reflect back a warped, ugly image, my client’s sense of himself in real life was distorted in an equally disturbing way. And because he saw himself so poorly, he suffered greatly in every domain of his life. He believed he was ugly, so he avoided dating. He believed he was stupid (in spite of having an above average IQ), so he chose an unfulfilling career that wouldn’t present any intellectual challenges. He believed he wasn’t worthy of connection, so he limited his contact with others and felt deep pain because of it. This particular client’s situation might seem extreme, but on some level, most people can relate to it.

Human beings are meaning-making machines. Our brains take in information and create interpretations about it. These interpretations eventually become beliefs, and out of those beliefs sprout the thoughts that flow automatically through our minds as we navigate the world. Most of us identify so much with those thoughts that we have difficulty thinking something without becoming attached to it, accepting it as a statement of fact, and inferring from it things about ourselves. Over time it becomes so that our sense of self is, in large part, shaped by what we think. Our thoughts influence our emotions, our emotions drive our actions, our actions become our habits, our habits become our lifestyles, and our lifestyles dictate our destiny. If we aren’t careful, we become slaves to the content of our own minds. We create a false sense of self that negatively shapes our lives and limits our potential.

If you want to see yourself more clearly, like my client did, you have to start by examining and challenging the stuff inside your mind. It is fundamentally true that you are not your thoughts. Nor are you your beliefs, emotions, or events from your past. This might make sense to you, but give it a little more thought. Can you think of something you believe about yourself that influences how you feel and behave? Maybe you believe that you won’t enjoy life until retirement. Or perhaps you believe you won’t be happy until you lose 10 pounds. Somewhere inside of your mind are beliefs you picked up a long time ago, which heavily influence how you live your life. When you base your sense of self on what you believe, you limit what you can experience.

Challenging your beliefs is the first step to seeing yourself more clearly and freeing yourself of unnecessary, self-imposed limitations. Once you start abolishing the beliefs that no longer serve you, it’s time to give your thoughts a similar treatment. Like I tell my clients all the time, one of the best things you can do for yourself in life is recognize that most of your thoughts are bullshit. What I mean is that your thoughts are just thoughts. In the most literal sense, they’re electrical impulses in your brain that carry data in the form of language. That’s it. They aren’t facts, truths, or reflections of who you are. But if you aren’t paying attention, you’ll start believing them and making assumptions about who you are based on them. This is what makes most people suffer.

Practices like meditation, mindfulness, and journaling can help you begin observing your thoughts and beliefs, and therapy is a great way to take that practice to the next level. Getting into the habit of examining your beliefs, watching your thoughts, and soliciting the feedback of an unbiased outsider can put you on the path toward freeing yourself and gaining a clearer sense of who you are. The truth is, you have the opportunity to be different each and every moment of your life. Whether that difference comes through something like taking a breath instead of taking action or making a bold decision instead of playing small, you have the ability to create new experiences by varying the way you go through life. And it all starts with watching how you think and being wary of the lies you tell yourself.

Now, I’m not saying that you should do away with all ideas about who you are. I’m also not suggesting that you can ever have a totally clear sense of self. However, as recent neuroscience research suggests, the more flexible we are about our sense of self, the healthier we’ll be. So if you’ve been looking in the proverbial mirror and not liking what you see, start by considering what you’ve been telling yourself about yourself. And then get busy telling yourself a new story. Because you really aren’t who you think you are—you’re much, much greater.

 

The Inescapable Importance of Acceptance

a small church in the middle of a snowy field.

Penned by Rienhold Niebuhr and popularized by Alcoholics Anonyous and other 12-step programs, the Serenity Prayer has been guiding people for decades. The most commonly used version of it goes like this:  God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. 

 The wisdom contained in this succinct but powerful invocation is timeless, and its central premise resonates with most everyone. On some level, we all know how important it is to accept the things we cannot change.  What the research shows and most of our experiences validate is that our willingness to accept the unchangeable has a great deal to do with our emotional and psychological wellbeing. Whether we’re talking about a financial crisis, a health diagnosis, the loss of an important relationship, or any other unanticipated, unpleasant event, fighting what is won’t make it not so. Instead, when we do battle with reality, we cripple our capacity to cope with the situation and manage all the emotions we experience in response to it.

A big part of healing and recovering from the painful parts of life is accepting what’s taken place. In order to move on, we must first acknowledge what’s happening now. But, as all of us know, this is much easier said than done. Despite being one of the most important life hacks any of us can master, the practice of acceptance is enduringly difficult.

Where many of us get stuck is that we start out with a warped understanding of what acceptance is and how it works. We think that accepting something means getting over it. But this isn’t the case. Being willing to accept that someone we love has died, for example, doesn’t mean skipping the grief process or seeking to place a silver lining on an obviously dark cloud. It doesn’t mean minimizing the significance of what happened or how you’re feeling about it. It simply means being willing to acknowledge what is, without resisting or denying it.

Another major source of confusion shows up when whatever we’re accepting involves somebody else. Let’s say, for instance, that your partner has a temperament that can be terrifying. He loses his cool easily and often, and you frequently end up being the target for his rage. You know from things his mother has shared with you that he’s always been this way, and his friends tell a similar story. Whenever you speak to him about it, he always seems to justify his behavior, saying, “That’s the way I’ve always been. It’s never going to change.” You know that what’s happening doesn’t feel right, but you keep convincing yourself to stick it out, hoping that things will change. Acceptance, in this example, would be a necessary step toward deciding whether or not this relationship is right for you. If you fail to accept this undesirable quality in your partner, you’ll suffer deeply every time it rears its ugly head. You’ll experience confusion, frustration, and anger, and your desire for things to be different will make it difficult for you to connect with what’s happening here and now.

Did the suggestion that you should accept a partner’s pattern of explosive episodes make you uncomfortable? If that’s the case, you might be confusing acceptance with approval. And, you see, the two are not the same. Acceptance is acknowledging what’s already happened; approval is consenting to more of it in the future. To accept that the person you’re in a committed relationship with has a side to him that causes harm to you doesn’t mean that you’re okay with it or want it to keep happening. It simply means that you’re facing reality as it’s being presented to you so you can make a decision about how to proceed.

Failing to accept reality creates suffering where there’s already pain. It creates confusion where there can be clarity, anguish where there can be peace. We don’t accept things in order to change what’s happening, nor do we do it in order to feel better about it. We accept because it’s the only logical thing to do. Whatever is happening is happening; whatever occurred already occurred. We embrace reality because it’s already here, right now, and resisting it won’t make it go away.

Learning acceptance is a lifelong process, and we’re guaranteed to be given plenty of opportunities to practice. With clarity about what it means to accept and what effect it has on our wellbeing, we can approach our experiences differently, perhaps experiencing different results. What becomes possible when you release your ideas about what should be and embrace what is instead? I invite you to explore what new and unexpected things happen when you start accepting reality on reality’s terms.

 

 

Fanning the Flames of Anger

She was mad. No, not just mad; she was enraged. She’d walked into my office for the first time just 20 minutes before, and shortly after launching into her story about why she’d sought therapy, her anger reached its boiling point. She was seething. After finishing a particularly pointed sentence about how furious she was over her husband’s “stupidity,” she looked up to find that I was sitting with my hands folded in my lap, breathing peacefully and looking at her with compassionate interest as she shared her story with me. Upon seeing my expression and posture, she became even more angered and said, quite passionately, “Ughhh! Seeing you sitting there so calm like that just pisses me off even more. It’s exactly what my husband does when I’m yelling at him. It’s like he doesn’t even care that he hurt me.” I gently stopped her then and asked if she could remember and repeat the last three words she’d just said.

“He hurt me.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, her eyes welled up with tears. Her rigid posture softened, and her once tense shoulders slumped down. She leaned forward with her hands in her lap and cried quietly, allowing herself to express the new set of emotions that my question had invited. Then, suddenly, she began to laugh. She looked at me with smiling eyes and tear-stained cheeks and said, “Damnit! It’s so much easier to be mad than sad.”

It is, isn’t it?

Anger is a normal human emotion. Like fear, it’s typically a response to some stimulus in the environment that activates our nervous system and triggers a fight or flight reaction. Whereas fear tends to invoke a flight response, anger gets us into fight mode. It creates a surge of activating energy that’s sometimes accompanied by a motivation to act out on the emotion and somehow discharge it. In this way, anger is energizing and emboldening.  In the English language, words such as “fiery,” “hot,” and “burning” are used to describe it, evoking a sensation of heat that is often associated with the emotion. If you’ve ever been overcome with anger—the way my client started out when she arrived to our first session—you know how intense the scorching flames can be.

Contrary to what some psychotherapists will tell you, anger is a legitimate emotion. It’s not, as some would argue, a cover-up for fear and sadness. It’s important to understand this distinction, because acknowledging what we’re feeling and accepting its legitimacy is an important part of managing, relieving, and overcoming it. I didn’t tell my client she shouldn’t be angry, nor did I ask her to tell me what was beneath or behind all that anger. Instead, I kept her company while the emotion surged through her, making space for it and remaining curious about her experience with it. That’s because I understand that as with any emotion, the first step to letting anger pass is acknowledging its presence.

According to the teaching of the Buddha, “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.” Because the heat of anger has such an activating effect on us, we can easily become consumed by it. It can erupt in an aggressive outburst or spawn a desire to get revenge. But as the Buddha so wisely pointed out, whenever we hold on to the emotion with the intent of using it to cause others pain, we’re the ones who wind up hurting the most.

The trouble with anger isn’t the anger itself; it’s the automatic assumption that just because we feel it, we have to do something about it. Simply allowing the emotion to pass through, without attaching to it or acting out because of it, gives way to a process that can teach us a lot about ourselves. You see, although anger is more than just a secondary emotion, it usually doesn’t operate alone. As my client discovered, anger is typically associated with other emotions. If we can sit with it long enough for the flames to die down, what we’ll likely discover is a host of accompanying emotions like sadness, frustration, humiliation, disappointment, and fear. What my client realized was that she wasn’t just angry at her husband; she was also feeling hurt by him. The anger, as she explained, was easier to feel. So long as she was charged up with rage, she didn’t have to experience the vulnerability that comes with feeling hurt. But once she made her way through the complex emotions she was experiencing, she was able to get some clarity about her situation. By the time she left my office, she had a better understanding of what happened in the encounter with her husband and what she wanted to do about it.

Anger can teach us a lot about ourselves. It can help us gain access to places inside of us where we otherwise might not travel. If my client had ignored her anger or simply acted upon the impulse to lash out at her husband, she likely wouldn’t have accessed the hurt and sadness underneath it. It was through the process of being with and peeling back the many layers of her emotional experience that she came to a sense of clarity and resolution. Had she dismissed her anger, this process would have been cut short, failing to yield any useful understanding or awareness; had she exploded because of it, she wouldn’t have learned much and might have acted in ways she’d later regret. If we let it, anger can become the source of deep self-awareness and exploration.

In his book entitled Anger, Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh offers the following perspective: “Embrace your anger with a lot of tenderness. Your anger is not your enemy, your anger is your baby. It’s like your stomach or your lungs. Every time you have some trouble in your lungs or your stomach, you don’t think of throwing them away. The same is true with your anger. You accept your anger because you know you can take care of it; you can transform it into positive energy.”

Every emotion we feel is an opportunity to become better acquainted with our inner world. And it’s through this self-understanding that we learn how to navigate life’s challenges, guiding ourselves with the wisdom of our own experiences. What if the next time you felt angry you embraced it? What if instead of dismissing or discharging the anger you listened to it?  What might you learn about yourself? What might you discover?

 

 

Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark

the milky above a tree in the night sky.

Most people, if you ask them, will tell you they aren’t afraid of the dark. And since they probably don’t need night lights to help them feel safe in their beds, they’re telling you the truth. But there’s another kind of darkness that even the bravest adults tend to fear. It’s the darkness that life inevitably delivers. The kind that sets in when we fall on hard times; when the unexpected happens; when our faith is tested; when our hearts break. That kind of darkness can bring even the strongest among us to our knees. So, of course, most of us are inclined to fear it.

But the truth is, no matter how afraid we might be of it, the darkness is guaranteed to come. It’s not only unavoidable in life, it’s necessary—for without it, we could never understand or appreciate the light. As the Tao Te Ching—the ancient Chinese text attributed to Lao Tzu—explains, everything in nature and in life exists in pairs of opposites. Day cannot exist without night; good has no meaning without an understanding of bad; there can be no light if there is no darkness.

It’s perfectly natural to prefer the upside of things and to like it better when everything’s going well. And while it’s also understandable to fear things going wrong, it isn’t necessary to go through life carrying around that kind of fear. First of all, because no matter how much we don’t want it, unfortunate things are bound to happen. That’s the way life goes. Secondly, and more importantly, because it’s in our times of darkness that we’re most likely to learn, to grow, to become more resilient, to gain appreciation and gratitude. Think about it: How much could you possibly learn from life if you were never challenged? How could you gain strength if you were never given a reason to be strong? How could you ever appreciate the good times if that’s all there’s ever been? It’s through the challenges, through the times we spend in darkness, that our resilience is fortified.

Many of the clients I work with seek therapy to address issues pertaining to fear and anxiety. They tell me about their worries and share with me how overwhelmed they feel when thinking about the possibilities that exist for terrible things to happen. Of course, this all makes perfect sense to me, and I let them know so. But once I’ve validated their concerns, I start getting curious about some of the challenges they’ve been through in the past. Most of these clients are able to recall times in their lives when things went terribly wrong. They tell me stories of loss, struggle, and intense emotional pain. They’re able to remember how dark it felt when they were going through those past experiences, and they’re also able to acknowledge that eventually, the darkness passed. The night turned into day again. In remembering that they were able to overcome difficult circumstances and dark times—in most cases, emerging from them wiser, stronger, and more resilient—they’re able to recognize that they can do this again. They come to see that no matter what happens or how dark it gets, it doesn’t last forever; and if they can have the fortitude to get through it, they’ll be better on the other side.

I like to say that our dark times are our greatest teachers. When things are going well, we aren’t available to learn; we’re too busy enjoying ourselves. So instead of being afraid of the dark, what if we embrace it? What if we allow ourselves to live life on life’s terms and accept the inescapability of the dark/light dynamic?

If you’ve been living with fear, I invite you to explore how you might allow yourself to start flowing with life and trusting that all things pass. And if this finds you in a time of darkness, remember that it won’t last forever. Soon—maybe sooner than you know it—there will be light.

 

From Impulsive to Intentional: Using Mindfulness to Make Wiser Choices

Have you ever said or done something in a fit of anger that you later regretted? Do you often say you’re going to cut back on your drinking or smoking, only to soon find yourself waking up hung over and disappointed with yourself? Have you succumbed to the urge to eat an entire cake, knowing all the while the stomach ache that awaits you after the last bite? If any of these scenarios sound familiar to you, I’m not surprised. You’re human, after all. And like all humans, you experience impulses, or urges to act in a particular way. But while impulses are a normal part of being human, acting on those impulses isn’t always a good idea. Getting an impulse to scream, “This is so boring!!!!” in a meeting at work is completely normal. But actually doing it is something else entirely. If you want to keep your job, your best bet is to manage the impulse and control how you respond to it. For some people, that will be much harder to do than for others.

That’s because we all vary in terms of our ability to manage or control our impulses. Impulse control is the ability to experience an impulse without acting on it. According to the research on the subject, people with a high degree of impulse control tend to be academically and professionally successful, physically fit, socially competent, and psychologically well-adjusted. Poor impulse control, on the other hand, is associated with dangerous sexual behavior, excessive risk taking, substance abuse, and binge eating.

To live in the modern world as a human being is to be flooded with stimuli all the time. There’s a multiverse inside of you, made up of all the thoughts, feelings, and physical sensations you experience as you encounter the world. At any moment, an impulse to act may be produced—one that, if followed, may have a detrimental outcome. The degree to which it’s dangerous to give in to an impulse varies widely, of course. For instance, giving in to the urge to have a cookie after dinner is far less harmful than succumbing to the impulse to physically injure another person. But whatever kinds of impulses we might have, we’ll always benefit from learning to respond to them more mindfully.

A basic mindfulness practice serves as a useful foundation for becoming less impulsive, as it involves centering your attention in the here-and-now, experiencing the present moment as it’s happening. Here are some further considerations for managing even the most intense and seemingly intractable impulses.

  • Build a practice of going slowly – If you want to be able to act differently when an impulse strikes, you have to be moving slowly enough to catch it. You have to recognize the impulse for what it is and think through what you want to do about it. Since impulsivity is all about immediacy, the trick to changing the impulsive behavior is to give yourself enough time to act differently—or not act at all, as the case may be. As with any new skill you want to develop, the ability to move slowly will come about through systematic and intentional practice. Practice going slowly all the time. As often as you can, be mindful of what you’re doing as you’re doing it; notice what you’re feeling as you’re feeling it. The more you do this, the better you’ll be at recognizing and managing the impulses that spontaneously arise within you.
  • Pay attention – Our attention is one of the greatest tools we possess. Whatever we pay attention to in a particular moment will shape our experience in that moment. If I’m paying attention to my breath in meditation, for example, all of my experience is distilled in the breath—all of my awareness is centered in each inhale and exhale. If the impulse you’d like to stop giving in to is, say, smoking a cigarette after each meal, you could start by paying attention to what you’re sensing throughout the meal, especially as you take your final bites. Notice the thoughts, emotions, and physical sensations that pass through you just before you reach for your pack and lighter. Once you start paying attention in this way, you’ll become more familiar with your impulses, which will help you respond to them differently. Maybe you’ll notice that you start thinking about the cigarette about halfway through your meal. You can practice shifting your attention to the sensation of chewing and swallowing your food, getting absorbed in the moment and giving yourself a greater chance of resisting the urge and avoiding the cigarette.
  • Break it down – An impulse is just a thought, an emotion, a physical sensation, or a combination of the three. When you can see an impulse for what it is, you’ve got a better chance of pausing to examine it and let it go instead of giving in to it. Meditation is one way to help you do this. Through the practice of meditation, you can observe your internal experience and recognize that thoughts, feelings, and sensations will pass if you do nothing to them. Like the waves of the ocean, they’ll roll up and then recede, all on their own. If you can experience the sinking feeling in your chest for exactly what it is—a tightening of certain muscles, rather than a command to send another text when she hasn’t respond to the first 16—you have a better chance of acting in a way that’s more consistent with a favorable outcome.
  • Find the sweet spot – Managing your impulses doesn’t mean suppressing or denying what you’re experiencing. It’s not about limiting your options. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Learning to manage your impulses is all about improving your ability to choose and expanding your options for what to do when the impulse arises. Instead of automatically giving in to the urge to pour a second glass of wine, you can acknowledge the urge, sit with it, and thoughtfully decide what you want to do about it. Sometimes you may consider your options and decide that, in fact, you do want to have the second glass. That wouldn’t be cause for beating yourself up; it would actually be a cause for celebration, because making a clear, well-reasoned decision is essentially the opposite of mindlessly acting on impulse. There’s a balance point—or sweet spot, if you will—between rigid self-control and recklessness. Finding it will help you make healthier choices without restricting yourself unrealistically.
  • Become a goal-setter – Create goals and come up with small, measurable steps to take along the way to achieving them. This will help you practice staying focused and delaying gratification. It will build your tolerance for discomfort and improve your ability to deal with challenges. The more practiced you are at working toward something when there’s no immediate reward for your efforts, the better you’ll be at managing your impulses. The beautiful thing about our brains is that they change according to how we use them. The more you practice delaying gratification—by setting goals and rewarding yourself only after you’ve accomplished them—the more your brain will adapt, making it easier for you to do it.

Like learning to play the piano, learning to manage your impulses takes practice. It requires patience, awareness, discipline, and effort. And just as it is with the piano, the more you do it, the better you get at it. Whether you want to get healthier, improve your marriage, save money, or curb a bad habit, you’ll do well to start getting intentional about impulse control. As always, be kind to yourself while you do the work. Allow yourself to be imperfect, but never forget that change is possible and you are worth it.

Mind Your Presence; It Matters

a view of tall trees in a forest.

I once worked with a client who sought therapy in the midst of an uncomfortable conflict; she came to me to help her way think and feel her way through her conundrum and find some resolution. During our first session together, this bright, confident woman openly shared her struggle with me. She explained that she was in a monogamous relationship with her high school sweetheart but recently found herself falling in love with someone who worked in her office building. Although she loved her partner dearly, she was intrigued by the “newness” of this other man.

When she arrived for the first session, this client appeared distraught and dejected, and she described the way she was feeling in more or less the same way. I asked her if she had talked about what she was experiencing with anyone else. She said she told two of her girlfriends, both of whom admonished her for being unfaithful and urged her to stop talking to the other man. She also spoke with her older sister, who suggested that she leave her partner, because “it isn’t natural to be with the same person for so long.”

At the end of the session, the client thanked me enthusiastically and told me she had found our time together to be profoundly helpful. I reminded her that I didn’t do much, and she acknowledged it. She said, “That’s mostly why it helped. You were the first person who just sat with me and let me sort through it out loud. I think all I really needed was to be able to come to my own conclusion, and you made it possible for me to do that.”  What she said next was, for me, quite significant: “Sometimes it’s a person’s presence that makes all the difference.” I couldn’t agree with her more.

We live in divisive times, which complicates and challenges our capacity to communicate clearly and compassionately with each other. It’s all too easy to get so committed to one way of looking at things that any other view becomes impossible to acknowledge, let alone accept. This makes for interactions that are guarded, at best, and destructive, at worst. Whether discussing politics or conversing over cocktails about the stories of our lives, we all run the risk of letting our judgments interfere with our ability to connect with others—even if those so-called others are people we know and love.

When my client appreciated my being present with her, I felt both gratified and grateful. It served to remind me of why I first felt called to this work, and it affirmed my own belief in the power of presence. Many people have the experience of holding back from expressing themselves or vocalizing whatever they’re going through out of fear that they’ll be criticized or ostracized. Unfortunately, this fear often stems from past experience, as it isn’t uncommon for people to have difficulty responding with curiosity and care when what they’re hearing doesn’t jibe with their personal beliefs.

I think that most people—whatever their preferences or principles might be—can get behind the notion that the world would benefit from more peace and understanding. But regardless of how monumental it might seem to accomplish that, it starts in small and simple ways. It starts with you and me, right here and now. Even the smallest and subtlest interactions can make a world of difference; added together, they’ll make the world different.

I invite you to consider how you can begin to get intentional about the way you show up in the interpersonal encounters of your daily life. Here are some ideas to support your efforts to cultivate a more supportive presence.

  • It’s not always what you say. Sometimes it’s how you say it, and other times, it’s what you don’t say that matters most. Be as aware of the ways in which you communicate—through your tone, timing, and body language, for example—as you are of the words you use. And remember that you don’t have to speak to be beneficial. By being willing to keep company with someone who needs it, you’re already making a remarkable difference.
  • Get curious. As I’ve mentioned in this blog before, curiosity is the antidote to many of the damaging ways we might be inclined to treat one another. When someone is sharing anything with you, they’re demonstrating some degree of courage and vulnerability. When you can lean in with curiosity rather than pull back in fear or disgust, you allow the person to feel seen, heard, and understood. That goes a long way.
  • Practice genuine listening. Listen to understand, rather than to respond. When it comes to being a good listener, most people have room for improvement. Sure, it can be difficult to set aside whatever you might want to say in order to really listen to what another person is saying to you. But focusing on forming a response to what you’re hearing makes it so that you’re not really receiving what’s being shared with you—and that comes across. Listening, like most things, is a skill that can be acquired and refined with practice. Challenge yourself to become fully immersed in the act of listening, trusting all the while that your chance to speak will come, and other people’s willingness to listen will improve as a function of your having been so fully present for them.
  • You can’t go wrong with kindness. At the end of the day, what most people want is to be treated with respect and understanding. You don’t have to be the most articulate person in the world to be a source of tremendous support to other people. All you have to be is willing enough to keep people company and radiate warmth and kindness while you do it. If you’ve ever been going through something difficult, you know how much another person’s kindness can contribute to turning things around. Be that person for others.
  • Concern yourself less with whether you agree or disagree and more with how the exchange transpires. In our current social context, voicing an opinion and seeking to be right often seems more important than connecting with other people and exchanging ideas. The truth is, we don’t always have to agree in order to keep good company with each other. In fact, there’s immeasurable value in viewing things differently; it creates opportunities for learning and growth. But that can only happen if both people mind their presence and show up to the exchange with a willingness to be curious, compassionate, collegial, and kind.

In our current times, it can be easy to get discouraged by the state of human affairs. It might be tempting to lose hope or become hardened to others, choosing separation over connection. But I urge you to have the fortitude to be a source of light in the world. Take small but significant actions toward being more present for others—as well as for yourself—and start to watch your interactions transform in surprising and inspiring new ways.

I Can Do Nothing For You

a person holding a bunch of leaves in their hands.

In one of the first classes I took as a graduate student, the professor began her first lecture by saying something along the lines of, “So, you want to be a therapist? Well, let’s start with some ground rules. Rule number one: Never help anyone.” I was flabbergasted. Dumbfounded. For a moment I thought I’d sat down in the wrong class. I wondered how a professor could give such an incomprehensible instruction to a group of students who, by and large, chose their career path so they could help and serve others. I started to rethink everything that influenced my decision to become a therapist.

That professor never directly explained what she meant by her shocking introductory message. Instead, she assured us that through the course of our experiences as students, interns, and professionals, we would come to learn exactly what she was talking about. I’ll admit that it took me some time to understand the meaning behind her injunction to “never help anyone.” During the first couple years of my career, I exhausted myself with efforts to help my clients. I put all my energy into trying to motivate them, heal them, free them from their unfortunate circumstances, inspire them to change. In many cases, I worked harder than my clients at making a difference in their lives, only to find myself disappointed and depleted when things didn’t go according to my plan. I can’t recall the specific moment when my professor’s teaching became clear to me, but once it did, it revolutionized my work and inspired me to pass the wisdom on to others.

What I came to understand is that if I was to truly be of service to my clients, I had to transform my understanding of what it meant to “help” them. All along I had been working from the premise that helping others means doing things for them, taking action on their behalf, grabbing the reins and steering their lives in a particular direction. The truth is, I acted from this definition of help not only in my relationships with clients, but in my relationships with everyone. I always saw myself as a giving and helping person, and I regularly went out of my way to be there for the people in my life, even when it meant inconveniencing myself or taking on more than I could handle.

What I finally realized is that my professor wasn’t telling us to be unavailable for our clients. She wasn’t commanding us to be unhelpful. Instead, she was nudging us toward the understanding that to truly be of service to others, we have to position ourselves in a very particular way. In essence, we have to help them by empowering them to help themselves. That brilliant professor wanted her students to understand that the best thing therapists can do for their clients is keep them company on their journey toward solving their own problems, finding their own way. And now that I understand that, I want everyone I know to understand it as well.

There’s a quote from psychologist, author, and spiritual teacher Ram Dass that I’m totally crazy about. It goes: “I can do nothing for you but work on myself. You can do nothing for me but work on yourself.” The wisdom in that quote is the same wisdom imparted on me by my professor. You see, if you are to be of service to anyone in this world, your primary task is to be stable, centered, and well. It is only when you are well that you can help others be well. Think about it this way: When flight attendants give the safety instructions just before takeoff they remind you that in the case of an emergency, when the oxygen masks drop down, you must put yours on first before helping anyone else with theirs. The logic of this is very simple: If you run out of air, you’ll be in no position to assist anyone around you. Helping others, in that case, won’t be very much help at all. And so it is in every aspect of our lives. If we want to be helpful, we must first be well.

When my professor told us to “never help anyone,” she wasn’t telling us to be unkind. And I’m not telling you to be unkind either. Instead, I’m telling you that the greatest gift you can give to anyone in this world is to be the best version of yourself. First, because your doing so is likely to inspire other people, motivating them to work on themselves. Second, because it is only when you are centered and attending to your own needs that you have the capacity to be available to others. And finally, because helping others doesn’t mean taking over for them; it means being a source of support—someone they can lean on when they need it. If they’re going to lean on you, you’ve got to be sturdy. Your foundation has got to be solid.

Once I was able to shift my way of helping others, I never again felt the fatigue or resentment I was once so susceptible to experiencing. Instead, I felt a vitality that was invigorating for me and inspiring for the people around me. When I started to focus on stabilizing and centering myself, my capacity to support others expanded; at last, I became helpful in the truest sense.

I invite you to begin your own journey of rethinking what it means to be helpful, and I welcome you to consider that the best way to give to others is to first give to yourself.

 

Why Children Make Great Role Models

a young boy holding the hand of an older man.

A role model is someone we admire and wish to emulate—someone after whom we want to model our lives in some way. When we choose our role models, we tend to choose people who are older than us or have more life experience. We look to people like our parents; our bosses; or people deemed successful by society’s standards, like world leaders, entrepreneurs, celebrities, or famous athletes. But who says role models have to be people we look up to? What if we could look down, literally speaking, to find some of the best examples for how to live?

The way I see it, children make some of the best role models. Here’s why:

1) They’re unfiltered. Children tend to say exactly what’s on their mind (sometimes to their parents’ great embarrassment). They don’t tend to second-guess themselves or augment what they want to say in order to please others. This kind of unbridled honesty is something we can learn from. When was the last time you bit your tongue and chose to stay silent about something when you wanted to speak up? How often do you find yourself choosing your words so carefully that what you end up saying hardly resembles what you mean? As adults we regularly hold back or manipulate our words in order to satisfy other people, evade conflict, or avoid rejection. We censor ourselves, only to end up suffering the pitfalls of not speaking our truth. Children can teach us a lot about saying what we mean.

2) They’re naturally mindful. Because most experiences are new to children, they tend to approach them with what Zen Buddhists call shoshin, or “beginner’s mind.” They have a natural ability to be fully present in the here-and-now, experiencing everything through their five senses in a state of unadulterated awareness. When you think about how much we struggle to remain grounded in the present moment without getting distracted by the flood of thoughts pulling us into the past or future, it’s easy to see how much we can learn from children on this front. Children can teach us a lot about being present. 

3) They understand the value of play. We’re so consumed by our commitments and responsibilities that many of us forget how to have fun. Most adults in Western society consider leisure a luxury; it ranks low on their list of priorities, if it appears there at all. But the role of play doesn’t need to be diminished as a consequence of getting older. In fact, it’s just as important for adults as it is for children. Engaging in fun, playful activities is a great way to relieve stress, improve brain functioning, fortify relationships, and boost creativity. Since children are the experts at play, who better to look to as models for how to do more of it in our own lives? Children can teach us a lot about having fun.

4) They don’t have to work at being authentic. Before children start internalizing society’s messages about who they’re supposed to be and how they’re supposed to act, they express themselves naturally and without pretense. Unless others teach them how to do it, they don’t criticize themselves or put up a front. Their original nature is to be purely, authentically themselves. And that’s our original nature too. But an adult lifetime’s worth of internalizing messages about who we should be tends to limit us from being who we are. Allow the children in your life to serve as a reminder that you don’t have to be who others want you to be—being you is wonderfully enough. Children can teach us a lot about being ourselves.

5) They ask for help when they need it. Our society prizes independence and self-sufficiency. We’re pressured to have it all together all the time; so when we don’t, we often feel like we’ve failed. Admitting that we need help can feel like a form of weakness, so we try everything in our power to avoid doing it. We wear ourselves out and go through unnecessary suffering to avoid uttering the words, “I need help.” Children are supposed to be dependent. They’re not supposed to have all the answers, and nobody expects them to do everything on their own. When they need help, they don’t hesitate to ask for it. Neither should you. Children can teach us a lot about asking for help.

When we are open to learning from them, children can serve as remarkable teachers. They can remind us of who we once were and who we can be again. They can be our greatest role models, if only we let them.

“While we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about.” – Angela Schwindt