Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Angela Marchesani

“If it’s not fun, you’re not doing it right.” ~Bob Basso

I spend a lot of time contemplating and philosophizing about life. According to my mother, I spent the first year of my life silently observing the events around me with a serious stare and a furrowed brow.

I’ve always leaned toward reverent acts of self-discovery and introspection. In high school I studied Buddhist texts and on Sunday mornings at age 18, when my college classmates were nursing hangovers, I was shopping around for a spiritual home, which I found in the form of my Unitarian-Universalist church.

For most of my life, I’ve lived with intention and rarely with abandon.

And I think I’m starting to feel the weight of this.

Contemplation has its place, but sometimes life just calls for a little spontaneity—a small dose of irreverence interspersed amongst the otherwise-trying bits of living.

I write this tonight because I have had a few uncharacteristically playful moments over the past few weeks, and I am quite sure they have prevented me from cracking up during some significant stress. Either that or, I am cracking up and my behavior has regressed to that of a 4 year-old.

In either case, it feels good.

And I want to share those good feelings. So to encourage you to foray into the world of play, I’ve created a list of some things that have brought me unexpected and simple joy the past few weeks (along with some things I haven’t quite worked up the nerve to do just yet).

Have fun and en-joy!

20 Ways to Play

1. Blow bubbles in the bathtub. Sometimes they bounce off the surface of the water. And when they pop, they make this satisfying “click” sound. If the lights are off and you have candles burning, the reflection in the soapy dome that hovers on your bath water is mesmerizing.

2. Hula hoop. I just learned this skill. At age 32. It’s addictively fun. Jump “rope” with the hula hoop, too. Just for laughs. My good friend advised me to, “Never hula hoop naked.” But I think that if you’re after laughs, this might be a good route.

3. Make a “fortune-teller.” Then write ridiculous fortunes on the inner flaps. Present it to friends and neighbors for a range of amused smiles and baffled glances.

4. Teach your dog a trick. Another hula hoop-inspired one for me, as my dog loves to leap through the hoop with the promise of a morsel of pepperoni. And her enthusiasm is contagious.

5. Be a “surprise fairy.” Leave an anonymous gift or token for someone special. It could be a trinket or a poem, a hand-me-down necklace, or a handmade card.

6. Belt out a show tune. Preferably in public. I won’t even tell you what’s been in my repertoire recently, but it’s a calypso tune sung by an ocean-dwelling animated crab. Catch my drift?

7. Use stickers. Liberally. Just slap ‘em on notes and letters and planners. I dig Hello Kitty, but to each her own.

8. Write silly poems on the envelopes to your bills. Last month’s masterpiece to my electric company expressed my relief at the rising temperatures and the lowered energy bill, and wished the reader a sunny afternoon.

9. Leave a song on someone’s voicemail. Your high school best friend will be thrilled when he leaves work to check a voicemail containing the epic musical swells of “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

10. Play with clay. You don’t have to be a sculptor. Get some play clay and roll out some worms, construct a tiny dinosaur (even if it looks like a rabbit), or use a cookie cutter to make a row of stars.

11. Run down a hill. Or roll. Get some speed and feel the abandon. You’re freeeeee!

12. Draw on the walls. Use bathtub crayons and create something while you shower. Or get some sidewalk chalk and have fun making hopscotch courses outside. Tape paper to your wall and scrawl in broad strokes with markers. It’s liberating.

13. Give in to an urge. It’s 11pm and you’re suddenly compelled to drive to the beach? Do it. It’s 10am and the sunshine outside your office window is luring you out to take a walk? Do it. Not all urges are irresponsible. I think when we feel drawn toward freedom or to do something spontaneously, it’s usually our soul’s plea for joy and levity. We can’t always ignore that or ask it to wait patiently for the weekend. If we do, it may stop speaking to us all together.

14. Borrow a kid. If you already have one, borrow another for a change of pace. Go to the playground and chase them around. Let them push you on the merry-go-round. When the other adults shoot you a look, smile inside, content in the knowledge that you know a secret to happiness: Play!

15. Swing on the swings. With or without kids. Feel the breeze across your face and the drop in your stomach when you go just a little bit higher.

16. Learn a new trick. I still can’t do a cartwheel. And I can’t quite dive. But every time I set out to do either, I feel a renewed zest for life. Try something new and have fun with it.

17. Play an instrument. Bongos and kazoos are fun for the not-so-musically-inclined.

18. Make a “faerie garden.” My mother did this with my son recently. She used an old wooden crate and some found objects, and let him create a beautiful little “garden” filled with ceramic turtles, tree branches, and an angel figurine. There’s no real reason. But why not?

19. Throw a party. Go all out and make it a themed event for all of your friends. Or go small scale and celebrate your dog’s birthday with some balloons, a new toy and a feast of fresh beef and rice. You can celebrate anything, if you want to.

20. Dance in Public. At a karaoke bar or in the grocery store. And if you somehow just can’t bring yourself to do it…do it anyway.

These moments of fun and play are what keep me feeling alive. I consider them to be my soul’s expression of joy. And my body’s expression of joy. And my heart’s expression of joy. But my mind is blissfully quiet during these times.

In these moments, my mind is off the hook, and all I have to do is just play.

Photo by Brian Tomlinson

by Lori Deschene

IMPORTANT NOTE: This post contains two poll questions and a giveaway for an autographed copy of the Tiny Buddha book. If you’re reading this in your inbox, you may want to click through to participate on the site.

This is the last poll post for my next book! If you’ve been following this series since I launched it, much of this post will be redundant for you. Scroll to the bottom to read today’s two questions!

If you didn’t read the other posts, allow me to explain:

Throughout May, I am going to publish ten blog posts, each with two poll questions. I plan to gather all the responses and include some of these insights in my next book

Each time you respond to these questions, you’re entering for a new chance to win an autographed copy of my first book, Tiny Buddha: Simple Wisdom for Life’s Hard Questions.

I plan to give away one book for each of ten posts. I will mail them all at the same time, at the end of May.

By responding to these questions within the comments, you are consenting to have your response published in my next book.

WHAT’S THIS NEW BOOK ALL ABOUT?

In short, this is going to be a book about what it means to win in life.

I feel compelled to explore this topic because I spent the majority of my early life thinking I needed to achieve massive, visible success in order to be significant.

For years, I felt convinced I would be happy if I only got the right job, or could afford the right apartment, or if I could somehow garner admiration and validation. Life was a constant battle to be better and arrive somewhere else.

It was one huge race with no clear finish line; and despite my best intentions at obtaining happiness, I felt miserable and dissatisfied.

In my next book, I plan to break this all down for anyone who can relate to this quandary. I’ve by no means arrived at a place of permanent satisfaction, but I’ve been living in these questions for the past several years.

And I’ve made significant progress in defining success for myself.

That’s the crux of this book: It will be a guide for living life purposefully and joyfully, on our own terms, in a world that often promotes a one-size-fits-all version of success.

TODAY’S TWO QUESTIONS

1. How can we identify what we really want in life?

2. What do you think is the most important decision we can make for our happiness?

To submit your answers for possible inclusion in my next book, enter your responses as comments on this blog post.

Please note that I need your email address so I can get in touch with you later (you’ll get a free copy of the book if your response is included!) For that reason, it’s best if you leave your comment using Disqus or by signing in as “guest.”

Thank you for being part of Tiny Buddha—and for being part of this book!

If you’d like to respond to the other sets of poll questions, you can find them here:

• Why Do We Ignore Our Instincts?
• Are We Happier When We Have Purpose?
• What Does It Mean to Have Enough?
• Do We Want to Feel and Be Seen as Special?
• Do We Worry About Other People’s Expectations?
• What Does It Mean to Use Time Well?
• Why Are We Busy?
• Why Do We Compete and Compare?
• What Does It Mean to Win in Life?

Photo by Xandra Holazo Marfori

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Jaclyn Witt

“To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

I read this quote the other day, and I have to say, nothing has shaken me to the core more.

I was diagnosed with a rare form of muscular dystrophy at the age of two, and ever since, I’ve struggled with loving myself and with having self-confidence.

For the most part, you wouldn’t know I have a serious physical disability aside from my visible limp, my difficulty getting up and down stairs, and my tendency to fall when I get weak. I was never able to do sports growing up like my friends and often had to enroll in special Adaptive Phys Ed classes in school.

I always felt my disability separated me from my peers growing up, so I put up an emotional wall and convinced myself that I had to wear the latest clothes, have perfect skin, and have the perfect body in order to “blend in” with everyone around me—in order to be truly loved. Then maybe I would be considered beautiful.

Then maybe no one would notice I was different. If I just looked like those Victoria’s Secret models, then someone would accept and love me.

So often we look to external things to define our beauty, most commonly our physical appearance. We think that if we just fit into the mold that society has told us is “good looking” then we’ll feel good about ourselves and will gain acceptance.

I put a lot of value in being in a relationship, too. Because of my disability, I was extremely shy for a long time and very insecure. All I wanted was a guy to come along, sweep me off my feet, and fall in love with me.

Then I thought I would truly be like everyone else, because I would have someone (other than friends and family) there all the time telling me that I was loved and valued.

In today’s world especially, it’s hard not to feel like our lives need to have a certain set of circumstances for us to truly be accepted.

With things like Facebook, we’re exposed to all the intimate details of a lot of people’s lives at one time. When they get engaged, married, have children, or are traveling the world with their fabulous jobs, we know almost instantly.

For a lot of us, that creates increasing internal pressure to have our life be a certain way because we think that’s what we need to feel happy with ourselves and be accepted in the world. We look to all of these other things outside of us to feel beautiful and to feel accepted, when the whole time, the only person who can truly allow us to feel these things is staring back at us in the mirror every day.

After I read this Thich Nhat Hanh quote, I went to clean the bathroom in my house and was suddenly overcome with emotion. I realized that all those things I’d been doing were what I thought I needed to do for everyone else to accept me, when in reality, I wasn’t accepting myself.

Whether it was having a boyfriend, having a lot of friends, or looking “perfect” all the time, I was trying to show everyone else, “Hey! Look! Someone loves me! I have value now!”

Really though, I was the one who didn’t like that I was different.

I was the one who couldn’t accept this disease I was born with. I had amazing friends and an incredibly supportive family who didn’t care if I walked with a limp or not—people who didn’t care that I couldn’t run a marathon or that sometimes I needed their help getting up a curb.

I was even told growing up how beautiful I was, but I couldn’t understand why I never felt like it.

It’s because I wasn’t truly being myself and accepting myself. I didn’t feel beautiful, and no amount of people telling me I was beautiful was going to change that. I was letting a circumstance I was born with define me and define how I thought others saw me.

In our extremely visual culture I think we all struggle with the idea of “beautiful.” And it can feel like no one really ever says “Just be yourself, love yourself, and accept yourself. That is true beauty.”

Beautiful doesn’t mean being physically attractive or looking like those people we see on TV or in magazines. It’s not defined by having or not having a significant other or by how many friends you have. We’re all born with our own struggles, and beautiful isn’t defined by those either.

Beautiful means just being and loving you!

I wasted many years trying to do everything I could to be considered beautiful by my peers and by society. Comparing myself to others and wondering why my life wasn’t like this or that.

The thing we don’t realize is that all along, we are already beautiful. Just for being ourselves. And we are the key to accepting ourselves—no one else.

There’s only one of each of us, and this is our chance to really live, so why waste our hard-earned energy trying to gain acceptance from everyone around us and trying to make ourselves look perfect to feel loved?

When you start down that road to self acceptance—that road to truly loving who you are, flaws and all—it’s then that you can truly open yourself up to being beautiful, for you and no one else.

Photo by La Melodie

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Justb

“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” ~Eleanor Roosevelt.

I have a very bad habit.

It pokes me when I stop to browse newspapers and magazines.

It slaps me when I’m watching TV.

It punches me hard at the gym.

It knocks me down when I am walking down the street.

I compare myself to other women.

I’ve suffered from depression at points in my life, and I’ve suffered from low self-esteem pretty much always.

It’s not an uncommon trait, comparing ourselves to others. But it seems to be a particularly bad habit for me. Perhaps because my brain is terrifically inventive; at my worst, I can find literally anything as proof that another woman is better than me.

She’s beautiful. She’s slim. She has a successful career. She has money. She’s married. She has nice clothes. She has brown eyes. She has blue eyes. She has smaller hands. She has a red top. She can walk faster than me.

I don’t always do it. If I’m feeling good about me, I can see a pretty woman while my boyfriend is with me and, although I do feel a slight pinch at my heartstrings, I’m able to disregard it fairly well.

But when I’m feeling low in confidence, seeing that pretty woman rips into my heart and brings tears to my eyes.

I look at her face, hair, body, success, and I think, “I can’t compare to her.” I torture myself with thoughts that if my boyfriend ever meets such a woman, I will be, as we say in Britain, yesterday’s news and today’s fish ’n’ chip paper!

It’s not just when I’m with him. I used to work in the fashionable Soho region of London, and I couldn’t take more than a few steps before a young, pretty, slim, effortlessly cool lady would glide past.

My thoughts would be, one: How does she have the money for those clothes? Two: How does she have the energy to make herself look so nice? I barely remember to brush my hair. Three: Thank goodness my boyfriend isn’t here to see her; he’d push me into that puddle over there and go running after her! And four: I look awful.

It got so bad at times that I couldn’t hold my head up. Not only did I feel ashamed of my own appearance by comparison, but literally averting my eyes seemed the only way to protect myself from the massive emotional upheaval I went through when I saw a beautiful woman.

I was really horrible to myself. Not to mention close-minded about the other women. I didn’t know their circumstances, their personalities, or personal traumas. I just saw the outside, and believed that it looked better than mine.

I create these comparisons all by myself.

They’re just people; it’s me who subscribes to the “she’s better than me” mindset, and me who judges that one of us is prettier, more successful, happier. I make all these comparisons and then berate myself, first for being a lesser being than them, and then later for being irrational and silly.

But as it is my reaction, and my brain, I have the power to do something about it.

As with all insecurities, thought patterns, and habits, it takes a lot of work, practice, and self-forgiveness to teach yourself to genuinely see your own awesomeness. For some of us it will be our life’s work.

I have discovered some tips that have greatly reduced the occurrence of my episodes, which I’d like to share:

1. Try a change of scenery.

I happened to move to another area recently. Obviously I’m not suggesting moving as a plausible tactic to avoid comparisons. But the change to my routine really gave me a big boost.

I was completely distracted by finding my way around, discovering my new neighborhood, caring for my new home, seeing new sights, and visiting new places. I was stimulated by the new experiences and too engaged in my own life to think about everyone else’s.

This can be done right where you live; seek out new things to do or see. Broaden your world.

2. Take even better care of yourself.

Exercise is well documented as a mood-booster, but it never used to work for me. I tried to go running but, rather than a rush of endorphins, I would feel a rush of tears, as I felt stupid and unhealthy.

But I was able to join a gym two months ago. My first workout was mortifying, but once I got used to the machines, I started to feel really proud of myself. I am doing something just for me. I am giving myself the gifts of health and hope.

3. Be honest with yourself and others.

I am really honest with my boyfriend about how I feel. He knows my triggers, and being synced into my problem means that he knows just how to help me feel better, whether it’s distracting me, taking me out of the situation, or planting a big kiss on my forehead and reassuring me.

I also talk about it very openly with my girlfriends, and it’s so helpful to hear them say “I feel like that too” or “You have absolutely no reason to feel you’re less than anybody.”

4. Keep practicing.

I work hard not to give into every opportunity to criticize myself. I try to breathe, give myself space before reacting, and see whether I can resolve it alone before asking for reassurance.

I remind myself that my boyfriend loves me for me. I remind myself that I have my own strengths, my own beauty. There is nobody else like me. I deserve to stand alongside every one of those women whom I compare myself to.

Everything gets easier with practice, even resisting the urge to make comparisons.

5. Remember your strengths.

We all have them. I know I have a unique personality, a good sense of humor, a few different skills and talents. I know I have nice hair and nice eyes. I’m not the pitiful eyesore I believe myself to be when I’m feeling down on myself.

The more you become comfortable recognizing your strengths, the more armor you’ll have against negative thoughts.

We are all different and all beautiful. I believe this for other people, and so my goal is to believe it for myself as well.

If we work on our self-esteem and realize how lovely we are then other people won’t seem so threatening. Be kind, gentle, and nurturing to yourself and you’ll feel less of a need to make comparisons.

Photo by Ollie Crafoord

by Lori Deschene

Before I found this Flickr image, I had never read this Irish blessing before. What a beautiful idea!

I remember in college, I spent a semester abroad in the Netherlands. My school owned a castle there—a full-on castle with a moat and towers and everything. The school gave us all three-day weekends, and two full weeks off so we could maximize our Eurail passes.

I didn’t bring as much money as other students did—I actually put a lot on my credit card and then worked extra to pay it off when I returned home—so I spent quite a few weekends almost alone in that castle.

It was an absolutely gorgeous space, and I enjoyed reflecting in solitude (and exploring the village), but the memories I cherished the most involved new friends crammed into tiny hostel rooms.

And it wasn’t just the adventure of being in a foreign country that made this so enticing. It was equally exciting to hang out in milk-crate decorated dorm rooms and apartments the following semester. When you’re with good people, it doesn’t matter where you are as long as you’re all together.

Now that I live in Los Angeles, I see no shortage of amazing houses far grander than my apartment. I walk by them frequently, and sometimes I admire them for their architecture and opulence. But the most beautiful home I’ve ever seen will always be my grandmother’s.

She has a small apartment in the housing projects where she hosted holiday gatherings for years before recently getting sick. Crammed with way too many Italian people all talking on top of each other, decorated with homemade afghans and one too many pictures of awkwardly posed grandchildren, it always feels warm and full of love.

That’s what makes a house of home. It’s not designer décor. It’s not the perfect furniture. It’s not the sprawling living room, backyard, or deck. It’s the sometimes messy, always cozy sense of comfort and welcome. It’s where one more person is always received with a friendly, boisterous, “Heeeeey!” in unison (or maybe that’s just us Italians).

There’s nothing wrong with having nice things, and living in a spacious, comfortable house.

But in the end, it’s not our stuff that we value. What really matters is how much space we create in our hearts—and how comfortable we are opening them to let other people in.

Photo by CarbonNYC

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Sasha Peakall

“The real measure of your wealth is how much you’d be worth if you lost all your money.” ~Unknown

Standing, getting crushed on the metro at peak hour, I look around and my heart sinks. I’m surrounded by sullen faces, their eyes focused intently on games on their iPads and smart phones.

These are the sullen faces representing a world of people dreading going to work, dreading grinding away at a job they hate.

The gadgets they use as distractions during their morning commute are constant reminders of why they must put themselves through this daily hell. They feel they need these things (among others), and their job allows them to have them.

Throughout history humans have always strived to have better “things,” to have more than their neighbors or at the very least be equal to them.

First it was outdoing the neighbor who just upgraded from horse and carriage to a car. Later it was getting a black a white TV, then the cassette player, and years later a CD player.

But in today’s modern world where trends change as soon as they begin, where the next version of the latest gadget comes out seemingly straight away, people are driven to work longer hours to afford to be at the forefront of the trends—the latest gadget, the latest car, the latest fashion.

But lurking behind the lives of shiny new cars, flat screen TV’s and iPhones is a void, is a huge deficit, and it’s not a budget one.

Our world is experiencing a passion and purpose deficit. 

Recently I asked some friends the simple question, “Are you doing what you love; do you have passion for your work?”

The most common answer “No.”

“I hate my job. I have no passion for it, no motivation.”

I can’t count the times my best friend has made this statement, frustrated in her situation, frustrated at being stuck in a job purely because of the money.

She has a passion, she has a dream, but she has two big things holding her back from pursuing it: the courage to take the leap from her secure job and the fear of not having enough money to buy those 10 pairs of shoes she doesn’t need.

More often when people explain why they’re doing something they’re not passionate about, they say it’s because they need the money.

Now in a perfect world we wouldn’t need money and we could all be on our merry life’s journey striving to chase down our passions. But unfortunately our world is not a utopia and money is something we do need.

We need it to pay for a roof over our heads, we need it to pay for the food on our table, and we may need it to support our families.

While I agree that money is a necessity, I look at people who seem unhappy, playing on their gadgets on the metro and pose this question:

“Did you really need that?”

Here’s the thing about “need.” As a society we tell ourselves we “need” possessions, we “need” to fit in.  While in the short term these things make us happy, in the long run there are only two things we really “need” to be happy: passion and purpose.

Think about it, if you ask any parent what the most fulfilling part of their life is, they most likely will say raising their children. If you ask them what the most frustrating part of their life is the answer will most likely be the same.

This demonstrates one fundamental quality of the human character: having purpose, however frustrating it may be at times, is what gives us the most fulfillment. It’s what gives us the most happiness.

At 21 I was not content with following the path I was on—a path toward a career where I would be helping someone fulfill their dream, their endeavors, and their passion while mine were left on the back burner.

I took the leap.

I turned down high paying ESL teaching jobs for a lower paying job with half the work hours.

I turned down the security of having a steady higher income where I didn’t have to think so hard about where I was spending my money.

I turned it all down so I would have the time to pursue my passion, to explore and discover my purpose.

And despite the many material sacrifices I had to make—the expensive nights out with my friends, that cute dress, the nice hotel with the swimming pool—what I discovered was that I never “needed” those things in the first place.

I could survive without them, I could be happy without them, and I was resourceful enough to come up with alternative options.

I swapped expensive nights out for nights in with my friends, I worked with whatever clothes I already had, and I stayed at a hostel where, in the end, I had more fun meeting new people then I would have had alone at a hotel.

But the most important lesson out of this was not how to be happily frugal. It was that pursuing your passion, however frustrating, however challenging, is ultimately the key to happiness.

Muster up the courage, take the leap, and be prepared to throw all those things you don’t really “need” away.

It’s time we start looking at our entire lives as purposeful, passion-filled journeys—not opportunities to collect as many possessions as we can to distract ourselves.

Photo by Bex.Walton

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Alanna Levenson

“Have respect for yourself, and patience and compassion.  With these, you can handle anything.” ~Jack Kornfield

I hadn’t taken a yoga class in a while, and in the midst of my busy schedule I finally gave myself permission to go. Needless to say it had been a few months since I found myself in a downward dog position.

Something was different about my participation in two classes I recently took. I wish I could say I was able to go deeper into the poses, but it was actually challenging because my flexibility is not where it used to be.

What struck me were the many great metaphors that these two women, Michelle and Debbie, were sharing in their yoga instruction.

I confess, I’m a metaphor junky and look for them everywhere. I can probably blame my dad for that since he spoke to me in metaphors while growing up.

What I noticed and appreciated about my instructors was that they were both very passionate about the practice of yoga. They were cognizant in educating us about position names and consistently reminded us to breathe.

I also loved that there were so many other rich messages to be heard, metaphorically of course, being that I was paying attention to them.

There were some gentle reminders that could be related to many different areas of life—career, relationships, wealth and finances, material purchases, and health. As I share them with you, I‘m curious as to how you would relate to them in your own unique way.

Our Needs Change With Each New Day

Michelle acknowledged how that morning was a chilly day, and how, although we might have felt more flexible the day before, we needed to listen to what our bodies needed then.

Typically most of us just go through the motions of our day not paying much attention to how we feel or what we need in each moment. Our need could be something as simple as a hug from a friend, time spent alone, or the satisfaction of eating a piece of dark chocolate.

How great would it be to pay attention to what it is we need and to then honor ourselves so we can experience fulfillment more often?

Embrace Where You Are Now

Michelle also explained that sometimes instructors ask us to hold a position for up to four or more minutes, for the intention of building strength and stamina.

How often do we allow ourselves to just embrace where we are now?

Most of us are always trying to get somewhere—usually because the grass always seems greener on the other side.

We can reap tremendous benefits from the practice of staying put and seeing what lessons can be learned from right where we are.

Transitions are Meaningful Too

While watching Michelle demonstrate how to move from one yoga position to the next, I recognized a grace and ease; it was as if she was dancing. There was this beautiful fluidity in how she shifted her body as she settled into the next pose.

There is this time in between where we are and where we are going, where we are transitioning from one life challenge to the next. When we’re patient and we give ourselves time to get to that next chapter or step in life, there is a lot that can happen that could be meaningful to us.

Take notice and take it slow. It’s not about how fast or slow we approach it; it’s about the preparation for what’s to come.

Life Isn’t a Competition

Debbie went around the room at various times during the class, adjusting each person in certain positions. As a great instructor, she was doing this so we could build up our strength, to stretch in a more comfortable way, and to push ourselves uniquely as far as we could go.

This is a great example of how in yoga there is no competition. We don’t need to worry or strive to be better than anyone else.

We’ve all heard the phrase of “keeping up with the Joneses.” Well, who are they anyway? A made-up ideal or level of perfection that doesn’t exist. It’s great to strive to be better, but from the stand point of what is truly best for you, not because someone else is where you want to be.

You may start to recognize that you sometimes find yourself in a competition without realizing you signed up to actually compete. Where in your life are you doing this unnecessarily, and is it truly to better you or to try and keep up with someone else?

Find Time for Rest and Relaxation

When we finished one of our warrior poses, Michelle then guided us into Child’s Pose to let our bodies rest. I loved when she said that resting in between poses actually builds up our bodies’ ability to handle stress.

That was such a nice reminder that when we keep ourselves in a high intensity state of taking actions, constant thinking and worry, or a state of stress, we can crash and burn.

In between these experiences or even while we are going through them, it’s important to allow ourselves to rest or do something that feels good and enjoyable. Taking a break and giving ourselves permission to have some down time can help us develop the ability to handle stress well.

Be In Alignment with Who You Are

Debbie taught us about the meaning of yoga as “fusion” or “alignment,” and went on to say that it’s the alignment of the mind, body, and spirit.

How often do you recognize that you did or said something that was out of alignment with you? As a result, you may have thought, “That wasn’t me,” or “That was totally out of character with who I am.”

Sometimes it can be a good thing when you challenge yourself in fun ways. When it doesn’t serve you is when you become disconnected from your values or what is important to you.

You get to choose who you are being in any given moment. Practice being intentional and you’ll maintain that connection with yourself.

Experience Mastery before Moving On

The most powerful message I heard was about mastering the level of a yoga pose before moving on to the next. Debbie stated it as level 1, 2, or 3. As I was shaking to hold the pose where my arms and legs were up in the air like a V, she gently suggested that I lower my feet to bend my knees. I stopped shaking and was able to hold the pose with more ease.

I didn’t hear judgment in those levels; they were just levels. One wasn’t better than another.

I learned that I don’t need to force myself to do what isn’t comfortable for me. I just need to focus on mastering where I am now. Otherwise I might feel a lack of confidence, experience feeling shaky and not grounded in what I’m doing, and may even push myself unnecessarily to experience some sort of pain.

When you can master the level of where you are now, you can move with ease into the next challenge or what’s next, knowing that you feel strong and empowered in doing so.

Photo by Lululemon Athletica

by Lori Deschene

This is the 9th post in a 10-part series. (It’s the last week!) If you’ve been following this series since I launched it, much of this post will be redundant for you. Scroll to the bottom to read today’s two questions!

If you didn’t read the other posts, allow me to explain:

Throughout May, I am going to publish ten blog posts, each with two poll questions. I plan to gather all the responses and include some of these insights in my next book

Each time you respond to these questions, you’re entering for a new chance to win an autographed copy of my first book, Tiny Buddha: Simple Wisdom for Life’s Hard Questions.

I plan to give away one book for each of ten posts. I will mail them all at the same time, at the end of May.

By responding to these questions within the comments, you are consenting to have your response published in my next book.

WHAT’S THIS NEW BOOK ALL ABOUT?

In short, this is going to be a book about what it means to win in life.

I feel compelled to explore this topic because I spent the majority of my early life thinking I needed to achieve massive, visible success in order to be significant.

For years, I felt convinced I would be happy if I only got the right job, or could afford the right apartment, or if I could somehow garner admiration and validation. Life was a constant battle to be better and arrive somewhere else.

It was one huge race with no clear finish line; and despite my best intentions at obtaining happiness, I felt miserable and dissatisfied.

In my next book, I plan to break this all down for anyone who can relate to this quandary. I’ve by no means arrived at a place of permanent satisfaction, but I’ve been living in these questions for the past several years.

And I’ve made significant progress in defining success for myself.

That’s the crux of this book: It will be a guide for living life purposefully and joyfully, on our own terms, in a world that often promotes a one-size-fits-all version of success.

TODAY’S TWO QUESTIONS

1. Why do we sometimes ignore our instincts when we feel something is right (or wrong) for us?

2. How can we tell if we genuinely don’t want to do something, or we’re just scared to leave our comfort zone?

To submit your answers for possible inclusion in my next book, enter your responses as comments on this blog post.

Please note that I need your email address so I can get in touch with you later (you’ll get a free copy of the book if your response is included!) For that reason, it’s best if you leave your comment using Disqus or by signing in as “guest.”

Thank you for being part of Tiny Buddha—and for being part of this book!

If you’d like to respond to the other sets of poll questions, you can find them here:

• Are We Happier When We Have Purpose?
• What Does It Mean to Have Enough?
• Do We Want to Feel and Be Seen as Special?
• Do We Worry About Other People’s Expectations?
• What Does It Mean to Use Time Well?
• Why Are We Busy?
• Why Do We Compete and Compare?
• What Does It Mean to Win in Life?

Photo by Architecture, Food & One Little Beautiful Girl

by Lori Deschene

“It is astonishing how little one feels alone when one loves.” ~John Bulwer

If there’s one thing we all want, it’s to feel loved.

We want to feel deeply connected to other people, fully seen and appreciated by them, and secure in those relationships.

We can have a million and one acquaintances online, but if none of our connections feel intimate and meaningful, we will ultimately feel alone.

There’s actually some interesting research that shows we tend to value physical possessions less when we feel loved and accepted by others, because relationships can provide a sense of comfort, insurance, and protection. They truly are the most valuable things in our lives.

I remember when I completed my last promotional tour. It’s something I used to do for work—travel around the country promoting products at sporting events, concerts, and retail locations. I chose this career partly because it seemed adventurous, and partly because it allowed me to distract myself with constant change and motion.

Although there were more than 20 people on the tour, I frequently stayed in separate hotels because my responsibility was to care for the tour dog, and the group often stayed in places that didn’t allow pets.

I’d just decided to leave NYC shortly before this job, after slowly climbing out of years of self-loathing, depression, and isolation. I wanted nothing more than to make real friendships, but I simply didn’t know how.

I saw it happening all around me. I saw women forming bonds that I knew would last for years, while I frequently felt awkward and insecure. I saw romantic relationships blossoming, while I had a superficial fling with someone I hardly knew, who hardly knew me back.

Though I was trying to open up to people and create space for them to open up as well, I still felt alone, love-deprived, and terrified that these feelings would endure. As a consequence, I frequently sabotaged myself and potential connections.

I assumed there was something wrong with me for struggling in relationships, when it was actually my thinking that manifested everything that felt wrong.

I’m sure there are countless other people who’ve been in that place before: feeling isolated, disconnected, and confused about how to change it.

Others still experience something different but related: They have meaningful friendships, but still feel there’s something lacking—like there could be more love coming their way, romantically or otherwise.

I’ve learned a lot about giving and receiving love over these last several years, and I’ve dramatically transformed my thinking and sense of connection as a result. If you’ve ever wanted to feel more loved, you may find these tips helpful:

Open Your Heart

1. Initiate meaningful conversations.

The first step to feeling more loved is creating close relationships, and that starts with meaningful, engaged conversations. These don’t necessarily need to be deep and spiritual in nature. They just need to be honest, authentic, and reciprocal.

You can initiate this type of exchange with anyone at almost any time simply by asking about the other person, fully listening to what they have to say, and then finding common ground. Naturally some people will stay shut down, but it’s worth the risk of feeling vulnerable to find the ones who won’t.

2. Give the gift of your presence.

Often when we converse with people, we’re not fully listening; we’re formulating our response in our heads and waiting for our turn to talk. We’re not only doing the other person a disservice when we do this; we’re also shortchanging ourselves.

Think about the last time you really opened up to someone. It likely required you to feel a level of comfort and trust, even if you didn’t yet know that person very well. The act of opening up is itself an offering of love. It’s an invitation to let someone in.

In recognizing this and welcoming it by fully hearing other people, we are, in fact, receiving love.

3. Open up your love valve.

Just like a heart valve prevents blood from flowing backwards, our love valve might block the flow of energy in our interactions. This generally happens when we get too caught up in our head, thinking, analyzing, and wanting more, instead of being present and allowing a natural give and take.

Come into the moment, take the pressure off the situation, and avoid the urge to fill silences with chatter. Instead, picture the interaction as something cyclical in nature, where there’s a balance of sharing and listening, giving and receiving.

When we clear the mental clutter and allow this type of flow, we are in essence choosing to be love.

Open Your Mind

4. Change your beliefs about the world and love.

When we tell ourselves the same things over and over again, we end up creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.

If you tell yourself that people don’t care, you’ll put that energy into the world and then easily find evidence to back it up. If you tell yourself you’ll never experience love, you’ll create mental barriers and then subconsciously repel it.

Tell yourself a different story: There’s a lot of love in the world, there’s plenty to go around, you deserve it, and it’s coming to you every day.

5. Consider that love might look different than you visualized it.

In telling yourself that love is coming to you every day, you’re not merely lying to yourself; you’re taking responsibility for recognizing the love around you.

It might not be from the person you want to be with romantically. It might not meet the standards and criteria you defined in your head. That doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

When a friend pushes you to reach your potential, it’s an act of love. When a family member takes the time to listen to you, helping you form insights about your life, it’s an act of love.

See and appreciate the love all around you and it will surely multiply because you’ll come to potential new relationships with a sense of wholeness instead of lack.

6. Give love when you’re tempted to judge.

Ultimately, this is how we all want to be loved: without judgment, pity, or condescension. Commit to giving this kind of love, both in your existing relationships and in new ones you might be tempted to avoid.

That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t follow your instincts when you feel like unsafe around someone. It just means you look below the surface, give people a chance, and in doing so create the potential for more meaningful, mutually supportive relationships.

Make the conscious choice to be understanding and compassionate. While getting isn’t the intention of giving, this will likely set the stage for you to receive the same consideration in return.

Open Your Eyes

7. Value the people who are there.

Sometimes we get so caught up looking for romantic love that we forget to appreciate the friends and family who are always there, offering their support. At least I did. Despite my chronic fear of being seen and judged, and my instinct to self-sabotage, I spent a long time believing that I was incomplete.

I know you might be thinking that friendships aren’t the same as romantic affection, and I understand. I felt this way too. But we don’t attract romantic love into our lives by focusing on what’s missing. We attract potential partners by radiating love.

Take an inventory of all the people who care. There are likely far more than you realize.

8. Recognize the love you’re not giving.

It’s far easier to pinpoint what we’re not getting than it is to be honest with ourselves about what we’re not giving. Perhaps you want people to check in with your more frequently. Are you checking in with them? Maybe you want people to ask more about your personal life. Are you asking them about theirs?

Give the type of love you want to receive. Give praise. Notice the little things. Offer help without it being asked of you.

I’m not suggesting you should always be the one giving. If it feels like a constant one-way street, then it might be time to reevaluate that relationship. But in most healthy ones, giving more freely creates an environment of consideration and generosity.

And then of course there’s the other side of this coin: Ask for what you need! There’s one relationship in my life that’s often felt unbalanced. Recently I asked this friend if she’d call me sometimes just to talk, as opposed to calling for advice. I asked, and now she does.

9. Look deeply at your needs and intentions.

Sometimes when we go out looking for love, we’re really trying to avoid giving ourselves what we need. There’s pain in our past we don’t want to acknowledge; or there’s an emptiness inside that we don’t want to fill on our own.

If you’re feeling a hole somewhere inside, take a close look at what might have caused it. Be strong enough to acknowledge what you need to do for you, whether it’s having a long overdue conversation with a family member, working on your self-esteem, or finding a sense of purpose in life.

We all deserve to feel loved by the people in our lives, but first need to be willing and able to love ourselves. That’s what it takes to feel deeply connected: to feel deeply connected to ourselves and confident in what we can give.

Photo by gfpeck

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

“We love because it is the only true adventure.” ~Nikki Giovanni 

Last night I sat with an old friend who has recently broken up with his girlfriend. He’s sad. She’s sad.

I don’t think it was time for them to give up yet; he’s exhausted and disagrees. He says he thinks that he just loves to love. When you love to love, he says, it’s impossible to separate the act of loving from the person that you’re actually supposed to love.

He thinks that he’s too much in love with the idea of love to actually know what he wants. And so, he argues, giving her another chance would be futile.  

I know what he means, because I love to love, too.

When I met my boyfriend, Chase, I thought I had been in love before. In fact, I was positive of it. I had built a life out of a dating and relationship blog—of course I had been in love before.

There was only one relationship that stood out from the masses of little flings, and for a time, he was my world. We met in college (although he wasn’t in school, a sign of different horizons that would eventually be the pitfall of our short-lived romance). And we developed our own little cocoon which quickly meant everything to me.

I had grown up with a happy home life, two parents that met, fell in love, and then stayed together. I had an (albeit naive) perspective that when you meet the right person, you fall in love, and that’s that.

I never doubted him for a minute; this was what was supposed to happen. I trusted it, the process of companionship, and I let myself settle into having someone.

After only a few short months together, he said he needed to move since he could no longer afford to live Boulder, where I was going to college at the time, so we made the decision to move in together.

Whether he meant that or not I’m unsure. I had more financial resources and was able to subsidize the move—a theme that stretched throughout the majority of our time together.

That decision to move in together felt like every other decision we made—an initial excitement that then was held together by necessity.

I have no other way to describe our time together but fearful. Fear of being alone. Fear I had made a mistake. Fear that if he left it was because I was unlovable, that there was something wrong with me. 

In retrospect, I had an anxiety that was speaking volumes, louder than my voice ever could. I remember sitting in a park alone, crying, before signing the lease. I knew, deep down, that there was nothing solid about our life together, but I didn’t know what else to do.

Truly, I thought this was as good as it was going to get.

Quickly, claustrophobic by our limiting world together, he began to rebel against me and our relationship. Within a matter of months, things started to fall apart.

He became angry, and mean, and a lot of true colors started to show. I didn’t know how to process this sudden shift and blamed myself. My life went from my own, to ours, to trying to salvage what was left in any respect.

I was quiet most of the time. My mom describes me during that time as very “proper,” always quiet and trying not to say the wrong thing. As a woman who has built a life on being an outspoken fearless thinker, I was quickly becoming a far cry from the person I once was.

It was a strange time, and although I don’t remember much of the details, I do remember it being extraordinarily painful.

I had let myself and my old hobbies go, and I’d slowly begun rejecting a lot of what was still left of the old me. I became the enemy for both of us, it seems, since I seemed to be the cause of much of his anger.

He told me incessantly that I was impossible to deal with, that I was impossible to love. He made his points clear. But I was lost in the world we’d built, and didn’t know of a way out.

Eventually, after too long of sitting in that toxic mess we’d built, I ended it.

I was sad for a long time. I went back to being lonely, in an empty house, and I felt like a failure.

To be fair, I was young. In the beginning I suppose more than anything I was just excited not to be alone anymore. In many respects, I was taken advantage of. In most respects, I wasn’t strong enough to stand up to my own fears and make good decisions.

Then, three years later, I met Chase.

By then I was strong and independent, with a  great job, lots of dreams, friends, and a strong backbone in relationships. I had spent years processing how I had lost myself before, and I was determined to never go through that again.

But then the strangest thing happened: I started to feel these feelings that I had never felt before. Chase, unlike anyone before in my life, loved me. And unlike anything in my life, I loved him.

I didn’t just love the idea of him, or the companionship of being together, but I adored the person that he was. He enjoyed the person that I was. And as I fell in love with him, they were feelings that were brand new.

They were feelings of belonging, safety, passion and companionship—and they didn’t have an ounce of underlying fear. 

I realized that for the first time in my entire life, I was really falling in love.

Sometimes, in the beginning, and even still today, I’ll become untrusting and difficult, attacking out of nowhere. That naive trust that I had so long ago got used up—and beaten up by the wrong person. But unlike that wrong person, when he used to attack for no reason, Chase protects everything: my happiness, our life together, and my relationship with myself.

So if there’s one thing that I learned the hard way in all of this, it’s this:

There are two experiences that we can define as love: we can fall in love with a person, or we can fall in love with companionship.

When you fall in love with a person, you get to experience their companionship as a byproduct. When you fall in love with companionship, it becomes an arrangement of need, where you become hinged on losing one another. It’s built on fear, necessity, and power. And that isn’t falling in love.

I can promise you this:

When you fall in love with a person, and they fall in love with you, you won’t lose yourself in love because you will be an important part of that love and what makes it tick.

After a year together, Chase and I are moving in together this summer. It isn’t because we need to. It’s because we’ve slowly become a family already, and a place together is an exciting next step.

For the first time in my decorating-impaired life I’m planning curtains in my mind and begging him to go to Ikea with me. This next step is an exciting leap, and there’s no fear attached.

For the first time, I’m in love—and I haven’t lost myself even a tiny bit.

Photo by epSos.de