Gimme Bliss

Reasons I Homeschool: This Kind of Life

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Fri, 19 Oct 2018 20:57:00 +0000

Lately my kids just want to make, create, think, read and do. Sure, they enjoy some TV here and there, but they are really turning into creative, self-driven people. I was thinking how with the freedom we have in our schedule and lifestyle, and their tendency toward making, they are becoming habituated to a kind of life that is very satisfying and purposeful and just the antithesis of passive. I have faith that this means they will never settle for a living that is dictated by others. They will either be entrepreneurs, artists, or self-directed professionals. Now that they know deep in their bones what it is to create and be curious, it will be far easier for them to recognize good work, good people, a good life. I'm feeling so thankful today.

Reasons I Homeschool: Having a Childhood

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Tue, 03 Jul 2018 02:46:00 +0000

For a young child—say, under the age of 10—sitting still inside an artificially lit building full of stale, climate-controlled air is not the natural condition, nor the ideal or healthy condition. Young children need a childhood. What does that mean to me, a homeschooler? Fresh air, tree climbing, mud-pie making, dam building, stick-boat racing, playing with friends, listening to a classic book under a tree, picking flowers, baking cookies with mama, putting on puppet shows, sleeping when their bodies are tired and eating when they are hungry. I could go on, as the wildness and sweetness and wonder of childhood can contain an uncountable number of such moments, but suffice it to say that conventional schooling does not permit children to have a childhood. Of course, academics and creativity and logic and philosophy and virtue matter deeply to me, which is precisely why children must be allowed a childhood—it is the very ground from which these mature fruits gain the energy to exist.

Time Bandits: How Kid "Stuff" Steals a Mother's Time

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Fri, 27 Jan 2017 21:08:00 +0000

There is no task quite as Sisyphean as cleaning up a home with children in it. As one of my friends puts it, it’s like brushing teeth with Oreos. Getting your house “clean” just doesn’t really ever happen.

Still, I try. I have a strongly held belief that the child’s environment is a silent teacher, and as a homeschooling mama, I don’t need a “teacher” that is at cross-purposes with what I want for my kids: simplicity, serenity, beauty, gratitude, focus, spaciousness and calm. In short, I want my kids to have the physical and mental space to think, feel and create.

I consider myself a minimalist. I buy very little, and I try to buy only what is useful, necessary and hopefully beautiful and long-lasting. The world I inhabit, generally, is not in accord with this modus operandi of acquisition; instead, the world seems to be awash in materials that are frivolous, extraneous, unsightly and quickly disposable. As such, great waves of this worldly flotsam and jetsam inundate my home ceaselessly. It seems to be almost as inevitable as the tide washing great rafts of tangled seaweed ashore.

The key in that last sentence is “almost.” While it will never stop, we, the adults, are responsible for what comes to reside in our homes. I’ve done the KonMari method on my own things, and Marie Kondo is right: Once it’s “clicked” for you, you will not relapse. I am so much more intentional about my possessions than ever before.

However, that doesn’t mean that everyone understands the burden possessions place on us, and especially on mothers. I want to help them—the spouses, the grandmas, aunts, uncles, well-meaning friends—to understand what it means when, unasked, you buy my children something, anything.

That gift you want to give to my child? It might or might not bring them delight (which is more often than not fleeting), but the one thing it is guaranteed to do is this: It will steal my time.

For as long as it resides in my home, it will have a claim on my time, the one resource I have so very, very little of.

Because my children are young, it falls to me to care for that item. I must clean it, wash it, put it away, make certain it isn’t lurking somewhere so the baby doesn’t find it and choke on it. I must gather all the pieces to make sure it isn’t rendered useless or non-functioning, I must make sure the younger child doesn’t break it, I must make sure that the child learns to care for it, not get it wet, not let it dry out, not grind it into the upholstery. I must sort, store, carry, and put it away, day after day after day after day. Eventually, in the fullness of time, I (or someone) must also dispose of it, somehow, somewhere.

As a stay-at-home mother who homeschools, freelances occasionally and makes all the meals, not to mention does much of the housework (even though my husband is very modern and helps out a ton), I do not have a lot of free time. Really, no mother in any circumstances has a lot of free time. It’s just not part of the job description.

That’s OK. But the next time you think about giving a child in your life a gift, think of the mother first. Do you like her? Are you OK knowing that you are literally stealing not only the time she has for herself, but also the time she could be spending on reading to her kids, cuddling them, playing a game with them, pushing them on the backyard swing?

To put it another way: what you are giving with that gift is the gift of drudgery. Drudgery that will be conserved: never diminished, never extinguished, until that item leaves the home. Or at least until the child takes over its care. (Ha ha ha ha! I must pause here to consider this implausible scenario and laugh-cry.)

Actually, my seven-year-old is beginning to care for his things, and so I do know that it will get a bit easier on the mother. And I’m not advocating for an empty house. But I want to know that the things I spend my time caring for, washing, putting away, storing, etc., are worth it. Gifts can be wonderful, of course. Some toys, clothes, books are the stuff of memories, hours of play, and great beauty and use. And of course sometimes gifts are wonderful because they are truly needed; when the baby grows out of his pajamas, he will need new ones. When something beloved breaks or is lost, by all means, replace it.

I guess what I’m asking you is this: Is what you’re giving something to be treasured or gratefully utilized, or is it cheap, extraneous crap?

Though this post might persuade you otherwise, I am truly so grateful, always, for the love people want to show to my children. Really, I am. I’m just asking you to remember to show love to the mother, too, and to be mindful about what you’re taking when you give.

Yes, I Use My Brain

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Wed, 18 Jan 2017 17:30:00 +0000

A dear friend, happily childless by choice, came over a few weeks after the birth of my third baby to bring me some food. Years ago, we worked together and became good friends as we navigated the absurdity of government employment.

She has not a mean bone in her whole body, but when she asked me if I still did freelance writing and editing, and I responded that I did, she said, "It must be so nice to be able to use your brain!"

Now, I know she meant no harm, but it is a commonly accepted notion that mothers of young children don't get to "use" their brains. Now, it's true I'm more distracted, more sleep-deprived, addled at times, and certainly the case could be made that I've lost my mind in some sense of the phrase, but let it be known that I most assuredly use my brain!

When my children get a fever or a rash or any ailment, I begin a triage: what was their exposure? viral or bacterial? how is their demeanor--restless, lethargic, in any other ways worrying? how shall I treat the symptoms? what can I do to minimize exposure to the others in my household?

When my children are distraught psychologically, I research the most effective strategies for lessening anxiety in children, or how to teach mindfulness to the undeveloped neocortex of a 5 year old. Or, I determine, perhaps this just needs a hug and a kiss from mama.

When I homeschool my eldest and he wants to know about the largest prime number ever found, and how to perform prime factorization, I'm learning right along with him (and retaining more math education than I ever did when I was in public school!) When my daughter asks "Where did the first people come from before there were people?" I'm challenged to consider this and explore big questions alongside her. When my baby son cries for me, I think: does he need to nurse, is he tired, or does he simply need to be picked up and held? Is he developing normally and when will he be ready for solids?

What's the right chemical to get out this stain? How do children learn morals and ethics? How does a pressure cooker work, and what are the healthiest ways to cook for 5 people? How can I start a book club for me and my friends? What are the logistics to consider when camping with 3 children?

I could go on and on. You get the point. It's not all intellectual (though some of it is), it's not all academic (though some of it is) and it's not always important (though much of it certainly is), but every day, and much of every day, I am certainly using my brain.

If we are human, cognitively able and unimpaired, and alive, we are all using our brains. Let's stop, parents and non-parents alike, from perpetuating the idea that parenthood (and especially motherhood) is a state in which brain-use ceases or terribly slows. It's not true, and it's not helpful.

I do have a sense of humor though--my thoughts are often interrupted by my three handicapper generals (see Harrison Bergeron by Kurt Vonnegut) and I do feel distracted beyond measure many moments of the day. But to be a good parent, to be a mother, means to engage my brain in more areas, subjects and times of the day than I ever experienced before parenthood.

And now to tend the fussing baby! (What does he need? A diaper change? Is he hungry? ...... )

January Inspiration: "Life is not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be lived."

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Sun, 08 Jan 2017 22:48:00 +0000

"Life is not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be lived." -- Joseph Campbell

With three children in my house, my blogging time is so very short! But this is how I will begin again, and so short it is for right now, for this season. :-)

Life is not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be lived. Let that sink in for a bit. I am certain that this is a deep and inarguable truth, and yet we all live with an eye toward the problems, rather than an orientation toward the mystery. Of course, we all experience problems, or simply circumstances that require our action and attention, but we have overall become extremely short on contemplating and living the mystery.

So as we begin this new year, I invite you to look more deeply, to recognize the mystery. In my own home, I have a 5 month old baby, and nothing is quite as good at reminding you of the mystery as a brand new person. So find something in your home, your life that can serve as a reminder of the mystery that we are here and alive. Solve problems, yes, but do not forget that we are here to live joyfully, deeply, consciously.

Love to you all, and happy 2017!

Starting Anew

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Mon, 01 Aug 2016 19:12:00 +0000

In more than one sense. Not only do I hope to return to blogging more regularly, but I hope to write more than I ever have about the topics that have engaged me since I became a mother almost 7 years ago. I'm also literally starting over as a mother, as I'm expecting my 3rd child any day now. I haven't had a baby in almost 4 years, so I've got a lot to relearn!

Still, I have been feeling a real desire to reach out and share what I've learned, what I'm doing, what I'm thinking about and to see how to send these experiences and thoughts into a larger domain, where I can both give and receive support, especially in my homeschool/unschool journey. Nothing has been more transformative in my life than my decision to become a mother who intends to opt out of the mainstream educational path. I'm passionate about this path, while at the same time muddling to figure out exactly where the path is leading us as a family.

I will likely ramble at first as I search to find my voice and the topics that most engage/interest me. If you're here, thank you. If you want to know what I need most, it's just kindness and support as I return to writing after a very long hiatus. I'd also love to hear your experiences and thoughts if you feel so inclined. This is a bit scary to begin again, so I appreciate your patience as I loosen the rust and attempt to return to this space on a regular basis.

Thanks, and lots of love.
Tiffany

My Experience with Red Raspberry Leaf Tea after a Miscarriage

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Tue, 05 Nov 2013 02:47:00 +0000

Today's post is for all the women who come to this blog to find healing and hope after a pregnancy loss. I'm so sorry you're here--I wish you weren't--but since you are, I hope to offer some empathy and support and peace.

After my miscarriage in 2011, I did a lot of research on what I could do to nourish my body and care for it. Mainly, I wanted it to come back into balance so that I could feel good and strong and healthy, and so that I could be prepared for another pregnancy, since my husband and I really wanted to try again for a pregnancy that would result in our second healthy baby.

I've talked about this elsewhere on the blog (see this) but the first thing I did was to change my diet and go Primal /paleo. It was October of 2011 that we ditched grains, legumes, refined sugar, processed foods and rancid vegetable fats, and I've been living that way ever since. That has been a huge success, which I'll cover in another post, but today I want to talk about the tea.

One of the reasons I suspected I miscarried was that my hormones were off due to nursing. I don't really know if that's the reason, and I'll never know. But when my son reached two, I decided it was time to wean him so that I could focus on healing and conceiving again.

That was, for us, relatively painless. He was down to two nursings per day anyway, and so over the course of about two months, we just tapered off until we said "bye bye to milkies." It was a very emotional process, but it was the right decision and it was ultimately pretty gentle for both of us.

For years, I've charted my menstrual cycle with the method outlined in Taking Charge of Your Fertility. Even after weaning I noticed that my luteal phase was too short. I also noticed that my menstrual cramps since giving birth to my son were waaay worse than they'd ever been in my life. I knew my cycle was off.

After consulting Dr. Google, I decided to try B6 supplementation to lengthen my luteal phase. After two cycles doing that, I noticed that I was having mid-cycle breakthrough spotting, and I didn't like that. It had never happened to me before, so I knew the B6 was not helping, and was possibly hurting.

I stopped taking that, and that's when I did some research on the balancing and fertility promoting properties of red raspberry leaf tea, which I'd heard about from my doula, but never really looked into.

You can read a lot about what it is supposed to do here. This story even talks about boosting goat fertility!

I used the Traditional Medicinals organic tea bags. I brewed 4 bags in 4 cups water in a big Mason jar, and then stuck it in the fridge so I could drink it iced. (I only drink hot tea in the dead of winter, and the taste of RRL is better iced, IMO.) I drank 3-4 cups a day, every day.

I knew it was helping when I noticed a significant improvement within the first cycle. I had a longer luteal phase, much better EWCM, almost no cramping at all when my period did come, and I just felt more balanced.

In my second cycle of drinking the 3-4 cups of tea daily, I conceived again, and this time the pregnancy stuck. :-) My daughter is now almost 11 months old.

Now, I want to say that I don't want this to come off as a "If you do this, then you will conceive" kind of message. I know intimately the fragile state of a woman who has miscarried, and the even more fragile state of a woman who has miscarried and is desperate to conceive again. It is very easy to want to control everything and try to "do" something. The last thing I want to do is send anyone into a tizzy of "I need to order this and this and this." Because, just as I don't know why I miscarried, I don't know why I conceived again when I did. I have my suspicions. But I don't know.

I have my little anecdote, and if it is helpful to you, or you think my story sounds similar to yours and it might help, I don't think trying RRL tea can hurt you in any way. It will cost you a few bucks. (And, full disclosure, the links on my site are Amazon affiliate links to help support my writing, but I want to just put that out there so that you know I'm not trying to sneakily earn some money off anyone's pain.)

But your body is unique and if it is healthy, you could probably do nothing and still conceive and carry a pregnancy to term. And it is my most fervent wish that you achieve your heart's desire. I guess what I'm trying to say is that only you know what you need.

I listened to my body, watched its signs and realized that I was out of balance. I did a bunch of things (including using Pre-Seed Lube in my fertile window and also undergoing Mayan abdominal massage and regular Swedish massage) to try to help me to conceive, and maybe they helped, maybe they didn't. It's in your heart and hands what you can undertake and what you can handle in the quest to have a baby, especially after a loss.

It's so, so hard to be in that spot, and if you're reading this, I'm so, so sorry that you are. I wish none of us had to go through the pain of a lost pregnancy. It's such an awful grief and sorrow. But, sisters, I offer you a hug and some hope that you will be well again.

With all my love,
Tiffany

How to Practice Conscious Wanting

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Tue, 17 Sep 2013 02:26:00 +0000

Something I've learned is that it is normal, if you are alive and engaged and enjoying the gifts the world has to offer, is to want.

I'm not totally clear on the why of wanting--why it seems to be written into the very fabric of human DNA--but I am clear on the reality of it.

I've seen how natural it is in my own two children. My 3.5 year old sees what the world has in it, and he just wants some of that goodness! My baby, only 9 months old, is already grasping and taking and holding whatever she can get her hands on.

And it's not a good thing or a bad thing, as I've also learned. It just is. We are alive, and we want. I've spent a long time passing judgment on wanting as a negative thing, tinged with moral decay and poor spiritual health. As though the state of wanting is a one-way ticket to hell. Jeez, did those Puritans do a number on me from across the centuries or what!

That's not to say that wanting can't send you to a hell of your own making. Just that it is actually neutral. Wanting is like money in this way. Money is just a means of exchange, a currency. What meaning you attach to it and how you habitually relate to it creates your experience and your enjoyment or suffering. And so the same goes for wanting.

Wanting is just a part of our nature, as pervasive and eternal as hunger. Any problems that come with wanting are related, I think, to a deformation in some other aspect of our lives--and then we begin to go beyond wanting and either move into envy or acquiring, depending on our means and our character.

Just as our drive to eat to satisfy hunger can be healthy and normal or disordered and a sign of an underlying dis-ease--physical or mental/emotional--our drive to want can be healthy or it can be disordered.

If you are looking for distraction, or self-worth, or a feeling of security, your wanting can lead you to acquire what you don't need or can't afford. If you don't have the money to acquire what you think you must have to create these feelings, you will find yourself either envious or discontented or worse. If your character allows it, you may even find yourself using deception or outright theft to acquire what you want but can't purchase.

And that's just for the things that money can buy. There's a whole other order of wanting that can cause even more suffering for the very fact that money can't buy it: love, friendship, freedom, relationships, family, etc.

Another manifestation of disordered wanting is that you deceive yourself into believing that you, unlike every other human on the planet, don't want. This generally is accompanied by a pretty healthy dose of self-righteousness and a good deal of self-convincing. This one is harder to spot as a disorder, as it doesn't make itself as obvious--no debt, no clutter, no addictive behavior.

Indeed, you can't necessarily look at someone's bank statement or home or possessions or Facebook friend list and know whether that person has a healthy relationship toward their instinct to want or not. You can really only evaluate your own relationship to your wanting, and decide if it's healthy or disordered.

You probably already know the answer, but here are a few questions to get you thinking if you're really not sure:
    1.    When you are in a state of wanting, do you begin to fantasize about a certain outcome or feeling you will have when that thing is acquired? Do you tell yourself a story about what will happen in the future when you get that thing?
    2.    Do you feel pangs of jealousy, envy or judgment when you see others possessing what you want but do not have?
    3.    Do you tell yourself that you don't need x, y or z because wanting that thing is stupid, selfish, invalid or some other dismissive, negative judgment?
    4.    Do you see your desire and wanting as a force in yourself that you're either ashamed of or wish would go away? Or, even more extreme, do you believe you actually don't want anything?
    5.    Do you spend more than you have or pursue unethical/illegal behaviors to get what you want?
    6.    When you do get what you want, do you have feelings of guilt, self-loathing or sadness?
    7.    How do you currently feel about the things and people in your life? Do you value them, or do you barely notice them now?

Don't panic if you find yourself answering these questions and finding that you're uncomfortable with the answers. I think, if you are a normal human being, raised in the culture of consumerism, that you will find that you have misused your instinct to want to try to generate feelings that comfort and soothe you. But, you're an adult now, and you get to decide if you want to want in a more conscious way.

What follows are some guidelines that I've found helpful in my own life for handling the wanting in a thoughtful, compassionate, and authentic manner.

    1. First, you have to acknowledge the wanting. It does you and no one else any good to pretend that you don't want. I actually think those who remove themselves to a mountain top or a monastery may appear as though they don't want what the world offers, when it is actually an inability to practice their spiritual path while being tempted and finding no other way to control the impulses but to detach fully from the world. Incidentally, I'm not judging here. If that is what works for you, it is what works. However, I, personally, prefer to remain in the action of the world, with all its evils and temptations and challenges. It is where I, personally, find my path. So, bottom line, acknowledge and accept. You are human. It's OK.
    2. Practice gratitude for what you already have. I've said it before and I'll say it again, but there is no more powerful foundational practice--meaning it will underlie all your other practices, spiritual, relational, emotional, etc.--than that of gratitude. The more you appreciate the gifts and blessings in your life, the more content and satisfied you will be. This will begin to take the sharp edge off of that hungry, devouring kind of wanting.
    3.    Celebrate, don't covet, what others have. OK, maybe for a split second you can say to yourself, ah, that looks so nice--to have a magazine-perfect home, or to have a charming family, or to have a healthy relationship with a spouse, or to have that shiny new sports car. But, once you've named the thing you are wanting, celebrate it without judging. Appreciate and generate feelings of generosity--that house is so beautiful--yes, that's awesome! Or, how amazing that people create and people buy beautifully engineered, gorgeously designed sports cars! Or, I am so happy that she has a beautiful, healthy family she gets to enjoy--the world needs more happy families! Envy and covetousness does you no good. Celebrating, on the other hand, improves your relationship to things and people, and leaves no guilty aftertaste.
    4.    Eliminate sources of "wanting influence" in your life. For me, this means advertising, magazines, shopping in stores and online. Yes, you will see ads, magazines and you will need to shop. No, you do not need to invite those things into your home. Cancel cable, or DVR your favorite shows so you can skip commercials. Don't shop for recreation--shop only to replace or purchase what you need. Cancel magazines that make you feel inadequate--that's really what most of them exist to do: tell you you have problems that they can solve.
    5.    Get clear on money. As I've said, for me this means "counting" as practiced in Julia Cameron's The Prosperous Heart: Creating a Life of "Enough" Evenually I'll get comfortable with this practice, and do a budget. Once I know what money flows in and out, I will know when it's okay to spend, how much to spend, and this will eliminate some of the emotional energy that surrounds money.
    6.    Don't berate yourself for wanting. Negative self-talk never, ever gets you anywhere but a one-way ticket to Guiltville, with a side trip to Selfloathington.
    7.    Allow yourself a wish list. This goes for things you can buy, as well as things you can't. (From the sports car to a spouse or a baby or a bestselling book.) If it's really important to you, you'll come back to the wish list and eventually get what you need. If it's not, and more an impulsive want, some distance and the visual of seeing it written down will usually clarify whether the want is a conscious one or an emotional one. Again, you can't be alive without wanting, so it's OK to want, and this is a great way to clarify your wants and validate the conscious ones.
    8.    Operate from a starting point of minimalism. This doesn't mean you have to actually practice minimalism, though it's what I, personally, am striving toward. But a minimalist always asks themselves what the true cost of something (beyond the price of acquisition) is: What will it cost to maintain? What space will it take up? Is it energizing or draining? Is it beautiful or ugly? Does it align with my values and who I am, authentically? Do I really want this or is it to satisfy some other impulse--to distract, impress, maintain a fiction or fantasy about who I am or how I live?
    9.    Give. For those of us raised in a mindset of scarcity, this is a huge challenge, which is why it's so important. But if you're practicing gratitude and you're feeling clear on the flow of money, this gets easier. And it reminds you that others want and need, and that you can give of time and money to connect, vitalize and fulfill your (hopefully) higher purpose. And the more you can give, and feel how good it feels, the more your wants become clarified and conscious.

So there you have it--some thoughts and ideas for how to manage your wanting and make it a more conscious force in your life. Cause really, it's not going anywhere. You may as well get to know it and make friends with it, and realize how profoundly wanting consciously can improve your life.

Please let me know in the comments if you found this helpful, and what your relationship with your own wanting is like.

With all my love,
Tiffany

How to Cultivate Limitless Prosperity

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Mon, 09 Sep 2013 15:53:00 +0000

Eldorado Canyon Stream, near Boulder, Colorado. August 2013.

It was in this place, hiking this canyon and picnicking by this stream that I was overcome--to the point of tears stinging my eyes--with a feeling of limitless prosperity.

This feeling was not a brief flit through the mind or body--it was all-consuming, powerful and true. I felt it down to the marrow of my bones.

In a way I didn't know before, I now understand: it is moments like that that are the definition of wealth.

Now, it's true we spent money to get there, but that's not the kind of wealth I mean. I had a feeling, not quite this intense, but similar, just a week before in Zilker Park--which we had to spend almost no money to get to--just the price of a few mile drive--watching my son and daughter cavort on a wide expanse of green lawn in the copper light of the setting sun.

I have begun to feel wealthy and rich and prosperous--which, I will assert, is no different than being rich, wealthy or prosperous--with no change in my income level.

I think this has become possible in a few ways, which I will share with you now:

My daily practice (for 1.5 years now) of 5 gratitudes a day
My daily practice of setting an intention
Spending the time I used to spend shopping in nature/parks/the outdoors
While I'm outdoors, working really hard to limit my smartphone use, and to only use the camera (I find it helpful to place it on airplane mode so I'm not as tempted to check it)
Turning around my feelings of lack and envy into feelings of prosperity and appreciation
Practicing clarity around money by "counting" as described in The Prosperous Heart: Creating a Life of "Enough" by Julia Cameron

So, how do these things give me the experience of wealth and prosperity and richness that it seems so many believe only comes from money?

No matter where I am, what my situation is, what the circumstances are, if I can practice gratitude for what is here, now, I am in a state of appreciation.
Setting an intention allows me to also place myself in positive states, where I help to facilitate good feelings and energy for the tasks, joys, and challenges that face me in day-to-day life.
Shopping for anything beyond the essentials is not only a waste of time and money, it also exacerbates feelings of lack and envy. Conversely, spending time in nature is restorative and plunges you deep into the abundance of the natural world. Have you ever thought about the fact that the only beings on the earth that use money are humans? (For more on this, read this fascinating interview about "The Man Who Quit Money".)
Smartphones, while useful, are pitfalls of distraction. Just what exactly do I need to be distracted from, if I'm feeling lucky, appreciative and prosperous? If I'm present, I can deepen these feelings and discover new details and thoughts and feelings.
I'd like to write a whole post on this, but I've decided that when I see something that someone else has that is beautiful or fine in some way, rather than sinking into feelings of longing or envy or wanting, instead I make an effort to smile and say, "good for them!" or "how lovely!" or something that appreciates the element that I find so attractive, and celebrates the fact that someone has that beauty or fineness in their lives. It is not up to me to judge whether or not they deserve it, or whether they have earned it...that's not my concern. I get to be excited by prosperity wherever I find it, and not just when I own something. And, as the brilliant Carrie Contey has taught me, "What you appreciate appreciates."
So much of our anxiety around money comes from not really knowing how much we have, how much we get, or how much we spend. If you begin to consciously write down what comes in and what goes out, you can begin to lessen your anxiety and inhabit a place of greater trust and peace when it comes to the money part of prosperity. And, if you debt frequently, this can help you address that.

In our culture, money (and specifically, the having of money) equals prosperity. But while money facilitates a lot of things in life, and can of course buy beautiful things and important services, you do not need a lot of money to have the experience of being wealthy and prosperous.

I know people who have lots of money, but do not have this experience. There's always a number that would make them feel better, more secure, more important. No amount--really--will change those feelings.

And, after all, as Tim Ferriss, author of the The 4-Hour Workweek: Escape 9-5, Live Anywhere, and Join the New Rich
says, it's not the million dollars in the bank that people are really after--it's the way people assume those with millions in the bank feel and live.

There's also a way in which carping about what we lack or what other people have, or what we have that other people want to take is a shirking of responsibility, a way to play the victim. When we always say that we don't have "enough," we give up a lot of our power to others. It's a game where you're the loser and someone else is the winner, even though that's not how the world works. Focus on yourself and your sphere of influence. Save the world by saving yourself first.

Let me repeat: You can be prosperous and abundant and rich right this very second, if you appreciate what you already have--both the material and non-material--and you realize that you have enough. For those of us raised with messages and feelings of scarcity, this is powerful medicine. I know that I often asked my parents if we were poor, not even knowing really what that meant. I just knew what I heard--that we didn't have enough. This is hard to overcome, and why the practices I listed above are daily ones. The gratitude and prosperity muscle needs daily work to keep it strong.

I'll close by saying that I love living like this. I love looking at my children, my husband, my dog, the trees around me, the birds and frogs and earthworms and my amazing (totally normal, but still amazing!) refrigerator full of good food, my strong, healthy arms, my eyesight, my comfortable office chair, scotch tape, nicely bound books full of poetry... (you get the idea, I could go on!) and I think...wow! I am rich beyond my wildest imaginings. And if I only had my family and we were all healthy, I think I'd feel rich even then. And if I didn't have my health, I would have to do some serious work to appreciate what I did have--but I think I'd get there, so long as I survived.

It's a practice, but to live feeling wealthy and fortunate regardless of the number in my bank account is such a blessing.

I hope this post has given you some good ideas on how to increase your wealth and prosperity right now, in this moment that is all we really have.

Thanks for coming along on this journey with me, and let me know your thoughts in the comments. When was the last time you felt really prosperous?

Peace,
Tiffany

Back from vacation...

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Fri, 06 Sep 2013 16:22:00 +0000

...and working on a new post for you soon. I could just rush through it, but it feels meaty to me, so I'm gonna take my time. Look for it early next week. As always, thanks for being here!

Love,
Tiffany

How to Declutter Using Faith

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Sat, 17 Aug 2013 20:25:00 +0000

What on earth, you may ask, does faith have to do with decluttering?

If you'd asked me six months ago, I'd have said absolutely nothing. But now I see how critical faith is to a simple life, a decluttered home, and a feeling of prosperity and ease.

I don't mean faith in the sense of religious beliefs, though that can work if that's what works for you. I'm such an eclectic spiritual soul that I don't know how to define my "faith," but I don't think of it in religious terms. More in terms of a belief in something larger, something mysterious, something that is perfect and whole, no matter what is actually going on, and no matter how I perceive it to be otherwise. A universe that exists is enough, for me, to have faith that I can surrender to its integrity, even if I don't understand or even like it.

Here we are. Amazing.

Now, in my home, I have struggled, for years, with a yearning for a simple, uncluttered lifestyle, a clean, open and cozy place that has room to breathe and feels good and actually achieving it. I can tell you that right now I don't have that. My house is also not so bad as to be the other extreme--it is not heavily congested, it is not chaotic, it is not cramped and airless and it does not look to be the home of a hoarder.

But. I want the feeling of simplicity and space and enough-ness in my home. My discovery vis-a-vis faith and decluttering is that the only way to let things go AND not bring more than what's absolutely necessary into my life is to have faith in a universe that provides enough.

The process of getting to that faith, by the way, has taken me years. And I can discuss more of that in another post. But today, I want to leave you with the thought that if you crave a decluttered home, if you want simplicity and peace and ease in your life, you are gonna have to cultivate faith to achieve it. I really think it's the only way.

I mean, you could hire a professional organizer to come in and declutter and organize your stuff, but the only way to maintain that state is to feel differently than you did when you were in the process of cluttering your home. (And, by the way, you have to take responsibility--clutter doesn't just happen. You either make it or you allow it via various avenues, another topic for another post.)

And for me, the way I've begun feeling differently about prosperity and material possessions and all that goes along with it--money, work, buying, selling, giving and sharing--is to apply faith to the process.

If you're feeling it, tell me what the biggest obstacle is for you on your path to a decluttered, simple home? And what do you think faith could do for you regarding this area?

As always, peace to you.
Tiffany

How to Set an Intention

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Mon, 12 Aug 2013 16:43:00 +0000

In my last post, I mentioned that I wanted to discuss intention setting. (In the stressful situation I wrote about, I had told my son, "I'm wanting to feel calm and spacious..." and that that was my intention for that day.)

This, intention setting, is another tool I practice to help my days feel rich and vital and blissful. Or, on days when I'm coping with something difficult, it helps my day to have the space and calm and peace I need to make room for difficult emotions or situations that I know I'll have to navigate.

It's really simple. The key is that you have to make it a habit and make room for intention setting in the beginning of your day.

On an average day, I might set an intention like this: "At the end of the day, I want to feel energetic and joyful."

Other common intentions in my household include:

Abundant and free
Calm and spacious
Peaceful and content
Patient and loving
Playful
Appreciative
Present and aware
Empathetic
Mindful
Rich and prosperous

You get the idea. Choose one, choose a few. Mix and match. Create what's relevant to you. The other thing is, you can pick whatever you want, but you can't let circumstances derail your intention. That's where the practice comes in. If you want to feel patient and loving and your child is testing your patience with huge tantrums, you have to devise some way to try and generate, authentically, the feeling of patience and lovingkindness, in the face of tests.

That's why I often like to add a strategy at the end of my intention. So, it might look like this: "At the end of the day, I want to feel patient and loving. --> Deep breaths, counting and lots of hugs!"

That way I have the intellectual touchstone--the idea about the feeling--and a roadmap for how to actually generate, in my body and brain and heart, the feeling.

My son and I have a little whiteboard we keep on the table where we write down our intentions over breakfast. You don't have to do this, but I like to model this practice for my children, so that's important to me. You can keep yours private if you want.

My family has had so much success with this practice, because it prevents us from reacting out of a more primitive and emotional place. Just by setting the intention, we have a positive, healthy direction we've placed in the front of our minds.

I don't want to be a mama who yells all the time. I don't want to be angry, impatient, frustrated, distracted, discontented, etc. I want to be rich, happy, joyful, grateful, loving, patient, kind, contented and all the other good qualities we admire. I want to live in those feelings. And, as a wise teacher says, what you appreciate, appreciates. The more you can authentically dwell in those feelings, the more good feelings come to you.

As if it weren't enough to just feel better and have happier, more spacious days, other benefits accrue from this practice: Healthier relationships. More time. An instinct toward simplicity, gratitude and kindness. Less debt. More productivity in the areas of the most meaning. Clarity of thoughts. Less time spent in regret, less time apologizing. More playfulness and creativity.

Go ahead. Give it a try. Let me know how it goes for you, or if you have any questions.

Peace,
Tiffany

Gratitude Is the Way, but Breath Is the Path

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Fri, 09 Aug 2013 15:49:00 +0000

There's so much I want to say in this space now that it's hard to know where to start. I promise it won't be dull--you'll just have to deal with some potentially weird non sequiturs.

First, as per my last post, I do believe gratitude is the secret to living in bliss. Not that it's always easy. Gratitude is the practice, the yoga, if you will, that leads you to your path, to *the* path that is yours and yours alone. There are many, many days that still arise in my life where feeling grateful is a struggle. But I'm so certain that it's the way, that it's the source of good and vital things in my life, that I come back to the practice. There are days when practicing gratitude feels so hard I can't do it with real authenticity. That's OK. That's normal. I want to remind you that there are days where our humanness, our feelings, overwhelm us and we just have to feel what we're feeling so we can get through it and eventually resettle into our higher, more luminous selves. On these days, I take deep breaths and I count.

Yesterday I found myself trying to get to a meet up with other mamas and their kids, and we were running late. The baby slept longer than usual. My son was distracted by his deep thinking on what kind of train he was going to be that day. Then we got lost. The baby was getting fussier and fussier. Finally, as we arrive at the splashpad, I see that it is dry. A mama from our group sidles up to the car: "It just broke.We're heading to Ricky Guerrero." New plan, new address in my phone's GPS. Screaming baby, impatient 3.5 year old. Traffic.

I was in a primitive, stressed part of my brain. Thinking of gratitudes in that moment was in no way going to make me feel bliss. It would be like my brain trying to sell my body on something it didn't need. "Gratitudes for sale---pathway to bliss!" it would sing out. And my body, stressed, heart pounding, muscles tight, would say, "What a moron! Can't my brain see that what I really need is a strong drink?"

(Not that I advocate drinking for stress relief, though sometimes, you know, it's what ya got.) The point is, like people use alcohol to bring their bodies through the stress, what I needed was a physical aid, a way through the fight-or-flight response. My intellectual brain was useless to me. And, thus, so was a gratitude.

Which leads me to breath. I told my son, "I'm wanting to feel calm and spacious (my intention for the day, a topic for another day's post), so I'm gonna take some deep breaths and then count." (He loves to count, so that helps him through stress.)

And that's what we did. In traffic, baby screaming to get out of her restraining (and therefore nefarious) carseat, we took big, deep, settling breaths. And we counted. (Up to 70.)

And that's how, in a stress-filled moment, rife with the potential to explode and go wrong with yelling, inattention, or hurtful words, we rerouted by acknowledging what we were feeling and then
relied, like a cripple on a cane, on our breath to carry us through some stress and big feelings.

That's how, by the time we got to the park, we were human again, escorted by breath past our reptilian response.

And there, in the dappled sun, by the rushing sound of water, in the good company of friends, we could relax, and I could look around and feel, with authenticity, how blessed and lucky I was to be there. How grateful I was. How happy.

If gratitudes are like the signs that show you the way, breath is like the earth upon which you walk your path.

So, don't feel bad on those days you feel shitty and gratitudes seem like a cruel joke. What I'm saying is that all you really need to do to stay on the path is breathe.

Peace,
Tiffany

The Secret Is Gratitude

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Mon, 05 Aug 2013 16:50:00 +0000

The last post here was about 13 months ago. I was five months pregnant at the time, and now I have a beautiful, healthy 8 month old baby girl.

Man, having a baby is hell on blogging. :-)

But, a routine has reestablished itself and I'm back, feeling again like I have some things to say. I've been through some crazy things over the past few months, some traumatic, some amazing, and some just mundane.

But through all that, I've been following a plan that has kept me growing, evolving, and believing in the possibility of bliss and a rich life today, right now. And, the more I live this way, the more I believe that it speaks to the great myths and ancient wisdom traditions that point to the truth of bliss being here, always available, no matter the circumstances.

Today, I am living a life I consider to be a dream, not because it looks like something in the movies. It is a far richer, yet more humble dream: I work doing work that I love, for a few hours a week, and the rest of the time, I am with my beautiful and amazing children and my seriously fantastic (and yummy!) husband.

This dream would not be possible without the help of others, it's true, but it also isn't only chance. I have worked in many ways, consciously and unconsciously to design a life where help slots into place and is available for me to take advantage.

I want to say more about this as I go along here in this space. I look at my life, and while not perfect by any means, it is a life I deeply, deeply appreciate and feel gratitude for.

And, the thing is, every life, no matter the circumstances, deserves appreciation and gratitude. It is not too much to say that deep, abiding gratitude for what is here, for who you are, for what is, is the secret to finding bliss.

That's all I'll say for now. I hope to see you back here for more. In the comments, feel free to tell me what you are deeply and wildly grateful for right now.

Peace,
Tiffany

Embody life. Embody love.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Mon, 02 Jul 2012 04:10:00 +0000

Those two sentences, along with, "Give my wish to god," are what I wrote on my whiteboard sometime around this past January or February.

I have long held the theory that whatever you want in your life, you must practice at. (Not that I've always been able to do this, but it has been a belief I've held for a very long time.) If you want to find love, you must love. And not just the people whom you suppose you'd like to love. Not just the men you might want to marry. Not just the women you'd like to date. But you do your best to love yourself. Your annoying boss. Your inconsiderate neighbor. You just try to pour out love, and love will be returned to you.

If you want to find peace, you must practice peace. Not by moving to a house away from the city. Not by standing outside a building chanting protests. Not by going to a meditation retreat once a month. Instead, you do your best to feel peace at the world, peace toward yourself, even when there are sirens wailing, even when the wars being waged break your heart and hurt your mind, even when there are horns honking at you, angry voices calling you names. It's hard. But you do your best.

It's what I believe. It's what I work at. I fail a lot. But it guides me. (I also like to tell myself to have high standards and rock bottom expectations. It keeps me moving in a direction I like, while taking off some of the pressure. I mean, jeez!)

As I wrote in my last post, I spent so much time clutching at what I wanted, losing sight of what I believed in, struggling with grief and loss and misguided ideas about detachment, that I had to finally throw up some words on a whiteboard to tell me what to do. I had to put it outside myself. I had to assert to the universe what I believed, and give my wish to god, because I sure as hell couldn't handle the burden of my own wants, needs, desires any longer. They were crushing me. Hurting my family. Blackening my heart.

I had to remember to live. To love. To say to myself, look at how goddamn lucky I am. If I never get another good thing to come my way in this life, I will be content with that, because look at how mothereffing blessed I already am. Who am I to think I deserve the certain image I think of when I think of "my life"? Where does peace and love and a good life reside? Within me, dammit, within me.

I appreciated my son more, rather than just mourning over the time slipping by. I decided to have fun with him, rather than just grow sorrowful that he might be my only baby, and his babyhood was very much in the past. I decided to direct love toward myself, and acknowledge that I had not been kind to myself, kicking myself over regrets and lost time and misguided efforts. I decided to be lively again with my husband, tired of cocooning myself in a protective shell that prevented me from having to cry and feel vulnerable and scared of possibility and hope.

And I did these things. Not every day, but a lot. To the best of my ability. I didn't just think them. I emerged from my shadowy hiding place and I started loving. I started living. I found help. I talked to people. I took care of myself. I began daily gratitudes. I surrendered.

Today, as I write this post, I am almost five months pregnant.

Lately, I am so grateful, so joyful, so peace-filled. Would I be feeling these things were I not already pregnant again? I don't truly know, but I'd like to say that the answer would be yes. Because I started living my beliefs, and embodying life, embodying love, regardless of the external circumstances in my life.

I know how lucky I am. I know how little control I have over my life's shifting circumstances. But I have the ability to turn toward love, life and peace, no matter what. I know that when I need help, help is there for me if I ask for it. I know that when I take care of myself, my body and my mind heal. I know now for a fact that what I appreciate, appreciates.

I think I've learned that what your heart desires isn't any given thing, even though your brain will tell you that's the case. A husband. A baby. A bestselling book. A great medical career. A million dollars. Whatever. I think what I've learned is that what your brain tells you your heart desires is the tangible object that you've fixed on as the path to the experience of love, life and peace. And, that that thing--that desire--isn't what you need to experience any of those things, even though they might be very nice to have.

Not that any of this is easy. Or necessarily obvious. But I think it's true.

Embody life. Embody love. Give your heart's desire to god or the universe. Feel peace.

Love and peace to you all,
Tiffany

The Experience of Life

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Fri, 30 Mar 2012 19:48:00 +0000

Joseph Campbell, as my faithful readers know, is my favorite teacher. I return to his books again and again for insight, guidance, a warm voice that reminds me where to look when I lose my way. There are many great writers, teachers, but so few are so human and so relevant.

The past year has been hard. It was a year of many small and some very large losses. It's why I've been practicing daily gratitudes, looking toward regular sources of comfort and wisdom and practical advice. It's why I've returned to seeing my therapist on a more regular basis, as a means of releasing pressure safely and constructively.

Losing the little sprout back in June of 2011 affected me and my husband and our marriage more than I could have ever predicted. That's not to say that we lost our love, or our warmth, or even daily joy or enthusiasm. But what we lost was something like certainty or peace or open-handedness.

For both of us, but to a larger extent for me, clutching entered our lives. In many senses. Clutching at what we had. Clutching of our breath. Clutching for what we wanted, what we couldn't have. And in that desperation, or tight-breath, or closed hands, we dwelt more in the past and in the future -- and thus not in the present -- than we may ever have before.

For nine months, all I could think was: I should be pregnant. Then, when what would have been the due date rolled around at the end of February, the only thought I had was: I should be having a baby today. And while my son was asleep, while I chopped vegetables for dinner, I listened to some beautiful music and I cried. For an hour.

I cried as I imagined how the birth might have gone, how my arms might have felt holding a new baby, all of it. I felt the loss as an experience, instead of as a thought or even just as an emotion. I may have healed to functioning shortly after the miscarriage, but I realize only now that I had not been able to experience my grief -- to live the grief-- enough to let go.

For nearly a year I was full of sadness. Full of fear. Full of regret. Full of anger.

A very wise woman and teacher I know shared this: What you appreciate, appreciates. And "appreciate" here is used in the sense of "looking on" or "emphasizing."

And so, my life filled more with sadness, fear, regret and anger. It's, after all, what I was appreciating, trapped as I was in my clutching mindset.

My biggest question surrounding Buddhism (which I have yet to ask anyone who is expert enough to know the answer) is if all this talk of attachment and the source of suffering is meant to guide humans to a place where we are not to suffer at all. Because I think one has to be incredibly spiritually advanced not to fall into the trap of confusing the intellectual idea of detachment with the actual experience of detachment.

I knew I could not know the baby we lost. I knew I could not know why we lost it. I knew, intellectually, that what had passed had passed and the present was where I should be. But.

But knowing those things did not create the experience of being detached, or of living in peace or in the present moment. Indeed, I believe I may have made my suffering more prolonged, more intense by thinking I had done those things, and then pretending I had dealt with what needed to be dealt with. Not so much repression as inattention. An unconscious ignoring.

I recently saw a very wise midwife for some massage. We talked a bit about the miscarriage, and she said this: "Children are these amazing things, and they change your life in a miraculous and profound way. And once you're on that path, it's not as if you can just say, "Oh, well, that didn't work out."

Those words, combined with my experience of the release of my grief (as well as all the other work I've been doing), made my heart felt heard in a way it hadn't been before.

It's so simple. I am a mother and I am in this experience of life.

And so back to Joseph Campbell. He says, in his interview with Bill Moyers in "The Power of Myth:"

[The definition of myth is] the experience of life. The mind has to do with meaning. What's the meaning of a flower? There's a Zen story about a sermon of the Buddha in which he simply lifted a flower. There was only one man who gave him a sign with his eyes that he understood what was said. Now, the Buddha himself is called "the one thus come." There's no meaning. What's the meaning of the universe? What's the meaning of a flea? It's just there. That's it. And your own meaning is that you're there. We're so engaged in doing things to achieve purposes of outer value that we forget that the inner value, the rapture that is associated with being alive, is what it's all about.

I don't think I'm spiritually advanced enough to experience detachment in such a way as to not suffer. Maybe I don't want to. I don't know.

But I know that I want to practice the opposite of what I've been doing over the past year. So, openness, love, joy, peace -- the absence of clutching. I want to experience these things. And so I am practicing the gratitudes. Taking deep breaths. Appreciating what I want to appreciate. I am practicing life so that I might be able to dip into actually experiencing it the way Campbell describes, pain and all.

And, happily, it's working.

Peace and love to you,
Tiffany

5 Gratitudes a Day

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Fri, 16 Mar 2012 16:37:00 +0000

Every morning, my husband and I, via email, exchange 5 things for which we are grateful. We've been doing this for a little over a month, and I am pleased to report it is a practice that is already paying great dividends.

In accordance with the Shawn Achor talk I posted recently, I have learned that happiness takes some work, some practice. Or, rather, happiness is already there, waiting to be found, if only you are willing to look for it. Then, once it is uncovered, the radiance of the happiness already present in your life surrounds you and infuses you with more joy, more gratitude, more happiness.

Happy is a verb. I choose to happy my life. One of the ways I do so is by doing this quick, daily practice of five gratitudes.

Go ahead. Try it.

Today, I'm grateful for:

If you're so inclined, leave your gratitudes in the comments. They don't all have to be deep and profound, either. Just the other day, I gave thanks for automatic dishwashers. Or really good dark chocolate. The point is to look at your world and see what you feel gratitude for.

I challenge you to do this for 21 days. If I were selling something, I'd make a money-back guarantee that you will see a positive shift in your life by the end of those 21 days. Fortunately, doing this is free. Nothing to hold you back. So...what are you grateful for today?

Peace and happiness,
Tiffany

TEDx Talk: Shawn Achor: The Happy Secret to Better Work

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Mon, 27 Feb 2012 20:47:00 +0000

Wanted to share this with you. A funny, fast, inspiring talk. It's really worth watching just for his delivery and for the slides, but for those who'd rather read what he has to say, the transcript is below the video.

When I was seven years old and my sister was just five years old, we were playing on top of a bunk bed. I was two years older than my sister at the time -- I mean, I'm two years older than her now -- but at the time it meant she had to do everything that I wanted to do, and I wanted to play war. So we were up on top of our bunk beds. And on one side of the bunk bed, I had put out all of my G.I. Joe soldiers and weaponry. And on the other side were all my sister's My Little Ponies ready for a cavalry charge.

There are differing accounts of what actually happened that afternoon, but since my sister is not here with us today, let me tell you the true story -- (Laughter) -- which is my sister's a little bit on the clumsy side. Somehow, without any help or push from her older brother at all, suddenly Amy disappeared off of the top of the bunk bed and landed with this crash on the floor. Now I nervously peered over the side of the bed to see what had befallen my fallen sister and saw that she had landed painfully on her hands and knees on all fours on the ground.

I was nervous because my parents had charged me with making sure that my sister and I played as safely and as quietly as possible. And seeing as how I had accidentally broken Amy's arm just one week before ... (Laughter) ... heroically pushing her out of the way of an oncoming imaginary sniper bullet, (Laughter) for which I have yet to be thanked, I was trying as hard as I could -- she didn't even see it coming -- I was trying as hard as I could to be on my best behavior.

And I saw my sister's face, this wail of pain and suffering and surprise threatening to erupt from her mouth and threatening to wake my parents from the long winter's nap for which they had settled. So I did the only thing my little frantic seven year-old brain could think to do to avert this tragedy. And if you have children, you've seen this hundreds of times before. I said, "Amy, Amy, wait. Don't cry. Don't cry. Did you see how you landed? No human lands on all fours like that. Amy, I think this means you're a unicorn."
(Laughter)

Now that was cheating, because there was nothing in the world my sister would want more than not to be Amy the hurt five year-old little sister, but Amy the special unicorn. Of course, this was an option that was open to her brain at no point in the past. And you could see how my poor, manipulated sister faced conflict, as her little brain attempted to devote resources to feeling the pain and suffering and surprise she just experienced, or contemplating her new-found identity as a unicorn. And the latter won out. Instead of crying, instead of ceasing our play, instead of waking my parents, with all the negative consequences that would have ensued for me, instead a smile spread across her face and she scrambled right back up onto the bunk bed with all the grace of a baby unicorn ... (Laughter) ... with one broken leg.

What we stumbled across at this tender age of just five and seven -- we had no idea at the time -- was something that was going be at the vanguard of a scientific revolution occurring two decades later in the way that we look at the human brain. What we had stumbled across is something called positive psychology, which is the reason that I'm here today and the reason that I wake up every morning.

When I first started talking about this research outside of academia, out with companies and schools, the very first thing they said to never do is to start your talk with a graph. The very first thing I want to do is start my talk with a graph. This graph looks boring, but this graph is the reason I get excited and wake up every morning. And this graph doesn't even mean anything; it's fake data. What we found is --
(Laughter)

If I got this data back studying you here in the room, I would be thrilled, because there's very clearly a trend that's going on there, and that means that I can get published, which is all that really matters. The fact that there's one weird red dot that's up above the curve, there's one weirdo in the room -- I know who you are, I saw you earlier -- that's no problem. That's no problem, as most of you know, because I can just delete that dot. I can delete that dot because that's clearly a measurement error. And we know that's a measurement error because it's messing up my data.

So one of the very first things we teach people in economics and statistics and business and psychology courses is how, in a statistically valid way, do we eliminate the weirdos. How do we eliminate the outliers so we can find the line of best fit? Which is fantastic if I'm trying to find out how many Advil the average person should be taking -- two. But if I'm interested in potential, if I'm interested in your potential, or for happiness or productivity or energy or creativity, what we're doing is we're creating the cult of the average with science.
If I asked a question like, "How fast can a child learn how to read in a classroom?" scientists change the answer to "How fast does the average child learn how to read in that classroom?" and then we tailor the class right towards the average. Now if you fall below the average on this curve, then psychologists get thrilled, because that means you're either depressed or you have a disorder, or hopefully both. We're hoping for both because our business model is, if you come into a therapy session with one problem, we want to make sure you leave knowing you have 10, so you keep coming back over and over again. We'll go back into your childhood if necessary, but eventually what we want to do is make you normal again. But normal is merely average.

And what I posit and what positive psychology posits is that if we study what is merely average, we will remain merely average. Then instead of deleting those positive outliers, what I intentionally do is come into a population like this one and say, why? Why is it that some of you are so high above the curve in terms of your intellectual ability, athletic ability, musical ability, creativity, energy levels, your resiliency in the face of challenge, your sense of humor? Whatever it is, instead of deleting you, what I want to do is study you. Because maybe we can glean information -- not just how to move people up to the average, but how we can move the entire average up in our companies and schools worldwide.

The reason this graph is important to me is, when I turn on the news, it seems like the majority of the information is not positive, in fact it's negative. Most of it's about murder, corruption, diseases, natural disasters. And very quickly, my brain starts to think that's the accurate ratio of negative to positive in the world. What that's doing is creating something called the medical school syndrome -- which, if you know people who've been to medical school, during the first year of medical training, as you read through a list of all the symptoms and diseases that could happen, suddenly you realize you have all of them.

I have a brother in-law named Bobo -- which is a whole other story. Bobo married Amy the unicorn. Bobo called me on the phone from Yale Medical School, and Bobo said, "Shawn, I have leprosy." (Laughter) Which, even at Yale, is extraordinarily rare. But I had no idea how to console poor Bobo because he had just gotten over an entire week of menopause.

See what we're finding is it's not necessarily the reality that shapes us, but the lens through which your brain views the world that shapes your reality. And if we can change the lens, not only can we change your happiness, we can change every single educational and business outcome at the same time.

When I applied to Harvard, I applied on a dare. I didn't expect to get in, and my family had no money for college. When I got a military scholarship two weeks later, they allowed me to go. Suddenly, something that wasn't even a possibility became a reality. When I went there, I assumed everyone else would see it as a privilege as well, that they'd be excited to be there. Even if you're in a classroom full of people smarter than you, you'd be happy just to be in that classroom, which is what I felt. But what I found there is, while some people experience that, when I graduated after my four years and then spent the next eight years living in the dorms with the students -- Harvard asked me to; I wasn't that guy. (Laughter) I was an officer of Harvard to counsel students through the difficult four years. And what I found in my research and my teaching is that these students, no matter how happy they were with their original success of getting into the school, two weeks later their brains were focused, not on the privilege of being there, nor on their philosophy or their physics. Their brain was focused on the competition, the workload, the hassles, the stresses, the complaints.
When I first went in there, I walked into the freshmen dining hall, which is where my friends from Waco, Texas, which is where I grew up -- I know some of you have heard of it. When they'd come to visit me, they'd look around, they'd say, "This freshman dining hall looks like something out of Hogwart's from the movie "Harry Potter," which it does. This is Hogwart's from the movie "Harry Potter" and that's Harvard. And when they see this, they say, "Shawn, why do you waste your time studying happiness at Harvard? Seriously, what does a Harvard student possibly have to be unhappy about?"

Embedded within that question is the key to understanding the science of happiness. Because what that question assumes is that our external world is predictive of our happiness levels, when in reality, if I know everything about your external world, I can only predict 10 percent of your long-term happiness. 90 percent of your long-term happiness is predicted not by the external world, but by the way your brain processes the world. And if we change it, if we change our formula for happiness and success, what we can do is change the way that we can then affect reality. What we found is that only 25 percent of job successes are predicted by I.Q. 75 percent of job successes are predicted by your optimism levels, your social support and your ability to see stress as a challenge instead of as a threat.

I talked to a boarding school up in New England, probably the most prestigious boarding school, and they said, "We already know that. So every year, instead of just teaching our students, we also have a wellness week. And we're so excited. Monday night we have the world's leading expert coming in to speak about adolescent depression. Tuesday night it's school violence and bullying. Wednesday night is eating disorders. Thursday night is illicit drug use. And Friday night we're trying to decide between risky sex or happiness."

I said, "That's most people's Friday nights." (Laughter) (Applause) Which I'm glad you liked, but they did not like that at all. Silence on the phone. And into the silence, I said, "I'd be happy to speak at your school, but just so you know, that's not a wellness week, that's a sickness week. What you've done is you've outlined all the negative things that can happen, but not talked about the positive."

The absence of disease is not health. Here's how we get to health: We need to reverse the formula for happiness and success. In the last three years, I've traveled to 45 different countries, working with schools and companies in the midst of an economic downturn. And what I found is that most companies and schools follow a formula for success, which is this: If I work harder, I'll be more successful. And if I'm more successful, then I'll be happier. That undergirds most of our parenting styles, our managing styles, the way that we motivate our behavior.

And the problem is it's scientifically broken and backwards for two reasons. First, every time your brain has a success, you just changed the goalpost of what success looked like. You got good grades, now you have to get better grades, you got into a good school and after you get into a better school, you got a good job, now you have to get a better job, you hit your sales target, we're going to change your sales target. And if happiness is on the opposite side of success, your brain never gets there. What we've done is we've pushed happiness over the cognitive horizon as a society. And that's because we think we have to be successful, then we'll be happier.

But the real problem is our brains work in the opposite order. If you can raise somebody's level of positivity in the present, then their brain experiences what we now call a happiness advantage, which is your brain at positive performs significantly better than it does at negative, neutral or stressed. Your intelligence rises, your creativity rises, your energy levels rise. In fact, what we've found is that every single business outcome improves. Your brain at positive is 31 percent more productive than your brain at negative, neutral or stressed. You're 37 percent better at sales. Doctors are 19 percent faster, more accurate at coming up with the correct diagnosis when positive instead of negative, neutral or stressed. Which means we can reverse the formula. If we can find a way of becoming positive in the present, then our brains work even more successfully as we're able to work harder, faster and more intelligently.

What we need to be able to do is to reverse this formula so we can start to see what our brains are actually capable of. Because dopamine, which floods into your system when you're positive, has two functions. Not only does it make you happier, it turns on all of the learning centers in your brain allowing you to adapt to the world in a different way.

We've found that there are ways that you can train your brain to be able to become more positive. In just a two-minute span of time done for 21 days in a row, we can actually rewire your brain, allowing your brain to actually work more optimistically and more successfully. We've done these things in research now in every single company that I've worked with, getting them to write down three new things that they're grateful for for 21 days in a row, three new things each day. And at the end of that, their brain starts to retain a pattern of scanning the world, not for the negative, but for the positive first.

Journaling about one positive experience you've had over the past 24 hours allows your brain to relive it. Exercise teaches your brain that your behavior matters. We find that meditation allows your brain to get over the cultural ADHD that we've been creating by trying to do multiple tasks at once and allows our brains to focus on the task at hand. And finally, random acts of kindness are conscious acts of kindness. We get people, when they open up their inbox, to write one positive email praising or thanking somebody in their social support network.

And by doing these activities and by training your brain just like we train our bodies, what we've found is we can reverse the formula for happiness and success, and in doing so, not only create ripples of positivity, but create a real revolution.

Thank you very much.
(Applause)

I Don't Know What You Should Do

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Mon, 27 Feb 2012 17:36:00 +0000

Because I don't know what I should do half the time.

It feels disingenuous of me to come here today and give you advice on how to live blissfully.

I don’t like giving the impression that things for me are smooth sailing, that I’ve got it all figured out, and I never have any struggles. Or that I know what’s best for you. That I’m, like, enlightened or something. (Ha!)

Because the last few months have been harder on me than I care to publicly admit. Yet, I think I’ll do just that, but in a careful way.

I’m suspicious of blogs that air all the dirty laundry, or just talk about how hard everything is, and it amounts to a big dose of voyeurism and spleen venting and not a whole lot of what’s edifying and inspiring and hopeful.

I read a lot of mommy blogs now that I’m a mama, and there are two main camps: the “oh I can’t take it anymore, this is so HARD!” blogs, and the “life is perfect, my children are perfect, here’s how to be like me!” blogs. I really don’t like the former (even if they’re funny, which they often are, but it seems to be cynical humor), and while I’m drawn to the latter (like I’m drawn to pretty magazine spreads in Martha Stewart Living or what have you), I feel a little bit deflated after I read them, I feel a little bit of confusion about why someone else’s life seems so much more polished or put together than mine does. I’m often left wondering what they have that I don’t.

That’s why when I found a blog called Momastery that shares just enough of what’s real and authentic about motherhood—the daily struggles, the big love, the confusion and the joy—and also what she hopes for, what she believes in and what motivates her to keep going when things are difficult, that I knew I’d found a better model for what I’d like to do here at Gimme Bliss.

It’s been so important for me to accentuate the positive, as the song goes, because I firmly believe that my purpose in life is to bring light and vitality to the world and honor my spirit and yours, for that matter. The only way I can do that here is to write in a way that offers hope and a pathway to peace. Where I’ve been perhaps falling down, though, is in unwittingly presenting to you that the hope and the path to peace come easily for me, or spontaneously.

I’m so reluctant to share the darker moments and the bigger struggles out of a fear that I’ll either reveal too much about myself to a judging, aggressive world, or that I’ll spend too much time in wallowing and depress everyone.

But I think I’ve got some useful models about how to move forward in a way that feels authentic and retains integrity.

My goal is that when you come to visit me here, you’ll find a peer with a very normal life who just happens to be very interested in pursuing the big questions of life in a way that guides me to greater peace, a greater awareness of the bliss out of which our world arises. I am interested in unveiling my awareness—removing the obstacles to greater peace—and by writing about it, my hope is to share a path that is not so much an example as it is an inspiration. After all, everyone’s path is personal, so mimicry will not help.

But, just as those mamas who write about what’s best about motherhood, and what keeps them hopeful during the hardest times, so I hope to demonstrate that a normal life, with its unique struggles and joys, can benefit immensely from a quest to live more blissfully, and with a greater experience of peace.

Thank you for joining me here. I deeply appreciate each of you.

Love to you all,

Tiffany

Update on Our Caveman Lifestyle

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 20:51:00 +0000

Nearly five months into primal living, and I am happy to report that it is still going better than we could have hoped.

We eat more whole foods than ever. My son has decided he now (usually) likes spinach, cucumbers, and all the soups, stews and chili I've been making. Our pantry is less cluttered. (No boxes, really, once you get rid of grains.)

Grocery bill ends up being about the same. (More spent on good quality meats and organic purchases, but less on advertising, since most bulk foods like nuts and raisins and fresh produce doesn't come from Big Food.) Also, since we snack less, we actually eat less, too.

Cooking is easy when I want it to be: Some fish with some lemon-garlic butter and sauteed veggies. When I want a showstopper, I can do that, too: Chile rellenos with chicken, cheese, pecans, raisins and lime sour cream, with a side of calabacitas con crema. Yummmmm.

Our energy levels are still sky high, which is my favorite part. (Well, that and the ability to not be hungry for hours on end--and therefore not be motivated nor distracted by food. Life is too short to spend it eating *all* the time!)

Exercise is less stressful than it's ever been. I walk or jog with the dog for 20 minutes once a day, and spend my usual time on my feet chasing my son around. Once a week or so, on Saturday or Sunday, we go to the park and do our sprints, which take all of 10-15 minutes, including resting between sets and chasing the little one. Then we are free to head to the playground or walk around the lake or do whatever we'd like to do as a family. I go to yoga most Sunday mornings. (Not that that's exercise for me--even if it is. It's my church.) Every other night or so, we do push-ups or squats or some other kind of bodyweight exercise, all in about 20 minutes or less. No more worrying about "getting enough exercise." We can do more, if we want, but we don't have to to stay lean. It's awesome.

Additionally, the way we're eating gives us enough energy to do intense bursts and build muscle. Thanks to my awesome "100 Push-Up" iPhone app, I just completed 100 push-ups, which I don't think I ever thought was possible. (It's broken up into sets with a 1-2 minute rest between them, but still!) I'm also well on my way to 200 sit-ups and 200 squats.

As for weight, we have both lost quite a bit of body fat. I was a size 6-8, and now I'm in the 2-4-6 range. My husband, who had a bit more to lose, has lost enough (more than 24 pounds, and still losing) that he's had to buy new pants and his shirts are quite roomy! And he is continuing to lose body fat every day. His blood pressure, though, has gone way down, which makes me very happy. He's gone from the low end of "high" to the middle of totally normal!

My skin continues to improve. I think this is a sign of my hormones, which are still a bit wacky, balancing out. There's some possibility that losing body fat, which holds on to estrogen, could be responsible for things not being totally normal just yet. I'm going to be consulting with some health professionals soon on this, so we'll see what I find out there.

As for temptations and cheats, it does happen. Mark Sisson, author of The Primal Blueprint, advocates an 80-20 approach, so that eating doesn't feel too restrictive, controlled or obsessive. I'd say we're doing 90-10. Corn is our biggest cheat, as we love Tex-Mex, so once in a while we'll have a corn tortilla enchilada, and maybe a taste of rice and beans. We've had pieces of cake--my son's birthday was recently--and while I really wanted to enjoy it, I just couldn't. I felt the buzzing of too-high blood sugar almost instantly, and it just made us feel poorly. It also was interesting how addicting it was; I wanted to eat more cake, despite knowing that it would make me feel junky. So we threw it out. We've found that wheat, combined with sugar, seems to be the very worst at making us feel bad.

My friend recently asked these questions in her comment to the post "Primal Bliss":

What I can't reconcile though, is what I know anecdotally about Atkins, which I know is not the same (the quality of this food sounds much higher) but seems fairly similar. I know lots of people who had success losing weight with Atkins, but no one who continued with it in the long-term (say two years or more) which of course led to regaining any weight lost. Of course, the same can be said of any style of eating for weight loss-- I can't think of anyone I know who has lost a large amount of weight on any plan, sensible or otherwise, and kept it off permanently. This my long-winded way of asking, is there something about this style of eating that can help one stick with it long-term? There's something unique about eating habits-- they die really, really hard.

She's right about eating habits, and her questions are good ones. My first thought is that there's something about coupling an eating plan to the science of ancestral health. Basically, if I understand intellectually why these things are good for my body or not, and I can look up the evidence myself, I'm more likely to be internally motivated to eat well. I think internal motivation is key. Someone telling you what you can and can't eat smacks of authority, against which nearly everyone eventually rebels. Further, without the strong cravings for the blood-sugar highs, the temptation to cheat plummets, making success much easier.

And I think another reason why this is working so well is that without the elevated levels of insulin numbing us to the effects of poor choices, we can get immediate feedback about how food affects our bodies. I know I feel better when I'm eating primally, and when I stray, it's like instant negative reinforcement. My body is more finely calibrated, and I'm more mindful, too.

While I'm happy I've lost weight, and thrilled that my husband has, I wasn't really in this 100 percent for weight loss. Mostly, I wanted to feel better, avoid blood sugar issues, and be in optimum health for a long time to come. I was motivated for higher reasons than vanity, which doesn't motivate people for very long, since being heavy or thin is not the source of real unhappiness or happiness. I just want health for myself and my family.

I don't know enough about Atkins to know why it (or any other eating plan) might fail, but I think one explanation of why "low-carb" and other diets don't work for some in the long term is that they allow wheat and grains, and demonize saturated and/or animal fat. Wheat is a powerful appetite stimulant, and where the carbs come from is just as, if not more, important as how many you have per day. Carbs from green veggies behave differently in your body than carbs from grains and sugars. I just read Gary Taubes' "Why We Get Fat, and What to Do About It." In it, he explains the biochemical mechanisms for fat storage, along with the history of obesity research and cures. I recommend reading it for the history alone, but knowing how insulin affects fat storage and metabolism is really important, too. (I've just started reading Dr. William Davis' "Wheat Belly" and that is full of great info, too, on the science of all this.)

Obviously, we've only been doing this about five months, so I can't know if we'll do this for the rest of our lives or not. But given everything we've experienced, we have no desire to change a thing, so we'll be eating this way for the foreseeable future. Only time will tell, of course, but I'll periodically share how we're all doing. I'll also mention that our success has motivated my husband's two brothers and his niece to go Primal, too, and so far the benefits they've experienced reflect our own experience.

So, to sum up: This decision we've made is working out well, and I'm so glad we challenged conventional wisdom and struck out on this path a little over four months ago.

Peace and good health to you,
Tiffany

Coming Up for Air

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 16:46:00 +0000

And here I am again, patient readers. As the post title says, I have had little time or, truthfully, energy to devote to the blog. It is the way of my life, with a 2 year old and a freelance career and then the personal life I try to have beyond those two things! :-)

As always, I appreciate your patience and your presence. At a different season in my life, this blog may become more predictable, but though I get a lot out of writing it--and so, so, much from your comments and gratitude--I have to at times put it on the back burner. Still, expect some new posts very soon.

Thanks, and much love to you,
Tiffany

Find Your Sacred Place, Continued

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 21:42:00 +0000

More to chew on from the discussion between Moyers and Campbell:

Moyers: This sacred place does for you what the plains did for the hunter.

Campbell: For them the whole world was a sacred place. But our life has become so economic and practical in its orientation, that, as you get older, the claims of the moment upon you are so great, you hardly know where the hell you are, or what it is you intended. You are always doing something that is required of you. Where is your bliss station? You have to try to find it. Get a phonograph and put on the music that you really love, even if it's corny music that nobody else respects. Or get the book you like to read. In your sacred place you get the "thou" feeling of life that these people had for the whole world in which they lived.

That's it, but wanted to share this with you. I'm reading fiction almost every night (right now, it's "Master and Commander" by Patrick O'Brian) and I'm loving the feeling of just disappearing into the story. Music, books, art, silence, whatever it is... Campbell is onto something, so find your bliss station, and spend some time there!

Find Your Sacred Place

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 17:16:00 +0000

I've been toying a lot lately with the idea of committing to a consistent meditation practice. I know I need one: a place of stillness and peace where I practice awareness and breath and just sitting and *being* for a few minutes every day. I do have a regular yoga practice, but while complementary and integrated, they are not one in the same.

I've been returning to Joseph Campbell again lately, as he is the one voice who, for me, can cut through all the clutter and noise and remind me how to return to what is highest, truest and timeless. I found this exchange in "The Power of Myth" the other day, and it has given me new motivation to find my sacred spot in the day where I can meditate and fill my cup.

Bill Moyers: You write in The Mythic Image about the center of transformation, the idea of a sacred place where the temporal walls may dissolve to reveal a wonder. What does it mean to have a sacred place?

Joseph Campbell: This is an absolute necessity for anybody today. You must have a room, or a certain hour or so a day, where you don't know what was in the newspapers that morning, you don't know who your friends are, you don't know what you owe anybody, you don't know what anybody owes to you. This is a place where you can simply experience and bring forth what you are and what you might be. This is the place of creative incubation. At first you may find that nothing happens there. But if you have a sacred place and use it, something will eventually happen.

Doesn't that sound exciting?

Here's to each of us finding our sacred place, and experiencing "what you are and what you might be."

Peace,
Tiffany

p.s. What ideas do you have for where or when your sacred place might be? How will you commit to being there each day? Since I'm serious about finding this, I'll post an update on how I've made this happen in my life.

Why We Need to Keep Asking Why

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 17:28:00 +0000

One of the most powerful practices you can enact is to simply ask “Why?” instead of giving into your most automatic impulses, thoughts and actions.

When someone says something hurtful to you, ask yourself why they feel the need to hurt.

When someone cuts you off in traffic, ask why they aren’t paying attention or why they are full of urgency or anger.

When someone dresses in a way you find goofy or scandalous or slovenly, ask why.

Then, ask why you are reacting as you are, or why you feel the need to examine others so closely. Know thyself first, right?

The thing is, we know so little, but we assume so, so much. We fill in the spaces of all we don’t know with our opinions, our emotions, our thoughts and our beliefs. We fill in the spaces with our family histories, our socioeconomic background, our race, our education, our religion. We fill in the spaces with our culture, our parents, our stories and our philosophies. We fill in the spaces with our egos.

Your curiosity is perhaps your greatest teacher, your best guide.

Your curiosity opens you up, accesses your observant awareness, closes down your impulsive, judging thoughts. Your curiosity is a path to your heart and your highest self.

My son hasn’t started asking “Why?” about the whole world yet (though he’s begun with “What’s that?” about many, many things!), but we all know the story about the child who drives his parents bonkers with asking “Why?”

When does that end? When do we stop asking why? Why do we stop asking why?

I don’t know. Perhaps it’s because we get frustrated once we realize that there are so many things we don’t know the answers to. Maybe we like living in a world of certainty more than we like having our minds and hearts challenged. To be sure, it’s exhausting to spend a lot of time in uncertainty. We don’t have answers, and we like answers, so we invent them, even if we must do so unconsciously.

I like answers. They are so satisfying. But they are not what the world and the people in it are here for. The world and people do not exist to give you answers.

We have so many answers in this world. Science and our faculties of reason and intellect have given us the path to almost as many answers as we want. Somehow, we have to reacquaint ourselves with mystery, and subsequent to that reacquaintance, we must find comfort in, or at least acceptance of, mystery.

This is one reason I love reading mythology or reading about it. Mythology is not, as is commonly explained, a way to explain a world before there was science. Mythology points directly at Mystery. Does its level best to deliver you into its midst, inasmuch as words and stories and art can deliver the ineffable.

Hmmm. How’d we get from judging less to talking about the Mystery? Are they related?

I think so. Because if we keep asking “Why?”, beginning with the most basic things – our bodies, our relationships, our world, our universe – we stay open enough to eventually arrive at the doorstep of Mystery. And there, knocking on Mystery’s door, but not really expecting an answer, content to gaze at the intricate carving of the door, the way the moon bathes the door in a bright and silver light, content to experience the profound peace that comes with accepting that the door has no key, no lock, no handle, we achieve a union with ourselves, with others, with Source, and that is the very definition of bliss as we can know it in this human lifetime.

One of the things I know now as a parent that I didn’t know before is that a newborn baby is an expression of the Mystery. Totally otherworldly, completely spellbinding. Open and beautiful and as close a window to the Mystery as we’ll ever get here on earth. Little by little, humanity overtakes them, and that is not to be mourned. But for a few brief weeks, these little sleeping, gurgling creatures are more like sprites or fairies or some other mysterious, magical being. Their peace (when not crying, of course!) is enough to move anyone curious enough to watch them to tears.

Many wiser than me have said that our spiritual journey here on earth is a process of reclaiming what we already know and have experienced – that we are one with Source, that our natural state is to be completely open and at peace and infinitely loving.

I agree, and advise that one tool we need on this journey is our curiosity. Of course, asking why can be a dangerous proposition: It can lead us to answers, and if we stop seeking, we get stuck, thinking we’ve found all we need to know. We stagnate there. We may be alive, but vitality stops. That’s why we must never stop asking why, why we must always make room for curiosity.

Peace,

Tiffany

In what areas of your life have you stopped asking why? How could you engage your curiosity to revitalize those areas? Please share any thoughts in the comments.

How to Stop Judging Other People

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany Hamburger) — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 04:14:00 +0000

Today I’m going to argue for a life of less judgment, especially of others. It’s a really strange trait, and we all do it to some extent, but I’m asserting that the less you judge others, the happier and more productive you’ll be.

It’s curious when this begins in our lives--this need to have an opinion on the goings-on of other people. In my 22-month old, I don’t yet discern any judgment of other people. He does judge food, or books or music – “Mama, turn it off” or simply “No” to an offer of a food he doesn’t want.

But somewhere along the line, we begin to watch what other people do and decide to have an opinion about it. What people are wearing. What they are reading or how they are dancing. What political party they subscribe to, or what sexual orientation they possess. How they raise their children, how they decorate their living rooms. Whatever it is other people do, we decide to pass judgment.

To some extent, I think part of this impulse is rooted in the ability of discernment—in other words, being able to differentiate objects or ideas or people for qualities. After all, at some point we must decide which of something to purchase, whom we should partner with, or what ideas or faiths or philosophies will help guide us through life. I’d argue that there is such a thing as quality, too. Some items, foods or people or ideas are better for us; are higher quality or superior to others.

What happens along the way is that we begin to care whether other people choose the same things or ideas that we do. It’s a funny thing, and I can’t say I fully understand the “why” behind this impulse. My best guess is that we are insecure about our own choice, and so we need to feel that others have chosen poorly. Another reason, I think, comes from economic impact. The argument, for example, that people who smoke cost us all money. (Of course, that’s more a problem of a socialized system. I’d argue that it’s a trade-off: If you want the “system” to pay for people’s expenses, you have to accept that people will be people and do things that are expensive, especially if they are aware that they will not bear the full cost. But that’s another topic entirely.)

In any case, I will say that I think that for whatever reason we do it, it would be in our best interest to minimize it as much as possible. Even, if in the above example, you can find a direct link to another person’s actions “costing” you somehow, or otherwise affecting you directly.

The less you judge others’ choices or actions—and most especially people you don’t even know!—the more peace you’ll find for yourself.

Lately, whenever I find myself judging someone for any reason—for hairstyle, diet, different parenting style, whatever—I just say, “No skin off my nose.”

In other words, it doesn’t hurt me that they have chosen differently. Even the most charged of decisions can be handled this way: faith, politics, child-rearing. Because you should be concerned with yourself and your family, and make decisions for yourselves.

Now, there’s nothing wrong with observing someone else and wondering if they have something to offer you. Often you can benefit from learning more about what others are up to. Say your neighbors xeriscape their yard. Watch how the plants do. See if the maintenance would lower your water bills. If so, adopt what you admire, and leave the rest. If you decide it’s not for you and you think your front yard is just fine, no big deal.

The thing is, judgment is loaded with emotion. Namely fear, I think. Discernment, which is what the above process is closer to, is far less reactive and emotional, and more based in a calm and rational action. When you judge someone’s choices or behaviors, you become more distant from that person. Less kind, less forgiving, less helpful, less human. Less loving and peaceful.

Besides repeating “No skin off my nose,” something else that helps me when I’m tempted to judge is to remind myself that every single person was once a tiny, helpless baby. This is probably more powerful for parents than non-parents, but it opens my heart every single time. I remember to breathe, and I feel compassion and space for that person.

With this simple practice, I’m a far happier, more secure person. Almost no road rage. Less confusion. Greater focus. Better relationships. More patience and tolerance. After all, I think about how to take care of my own needs and wants first, and as I don’t waste as much time worrying about what everyone else is doing, I’m far more productive.

No skin off my nose. It’s such a silly saying for such a profound idea. But with practice, it begins to take hold, and once it does, you’re that much closer to bliss.

Love,

Tiffany

I’m curious what you do when you find yourself judging someone else, especially when you realize you’re being quite harsh. What is your internal dialogue with yourself like when you notice you’re judging?