New Year’s Resolutions Simplified: It’s as Easy as 1, 2, 3

You and I will probably come across a hundred articles about New Year’s resolutions in 2023 … again. And, if you and I are like the majority—the well-intentioned, regular people who genuinely want change—we will aspire to big things and later get frustrated and give up on the list we made … again.

But what if we kept it really simple this time? What if we didn’t have to make an endless list and be reminded, by looking at it, of all the things we may fail at again?

What if we made it as easy as one, two, three?

Let us do that instead, shall we?!

1. Make “one” your magic number. Count to one each day, starting now, not from January 1st—NOW! What is the one thing you want and will do today?

One email or paragraph you will write, or one chapter you will read, or one person you’ll reach out to. Who is the one lucky person you will text or call to tell them how you miss or appreciate them? Or how encouraged you feel by knowing them or how you want to ask forgiveness from them? Who is the one person you can write to or call to laugh about that one fun memory that you only share with them?

I personally made a commitment to write or call or pray for a person whenever they cross my mind, that same day; I do not wait. There is a reason, I believe, we are reminded of people, and life is so fragile. I don’t want to miss an opportunity and regret not uplifting someone who could have been encouraged, or speaking kindness to someone who could have benefited from it.

What’s one thing you will do today to move toward a healthier and happier you?

Maybe it’s just one set of squats while you are washing the dishes; one jump rope you will order and one minute of jumping you’ll do when it arrives; one glass of beer or coke or a sweet drink you’ll replace with water or tea or decaf coffee just once today. Which one item will you change in your menu today for something that is better for your body?

What is the one happy song you will listen to in the car or on a quick walk that you will take today? What is the one shop you will drive to, parking really far away, so you can get extra steps walking back and forth?

2. Remember that there are two significant ways that your brilliant mind registers and remembers everything: through words and images.

Paint clear, vivid, beautiful pictures for your mind of what it is that you want. Think backward; create an image of what your completed accomplishment looks like to you and make it as detailed and as exciting as you possibly can.

See yourself having arrived at the healthy weight you want, you fitting into an outfit of your desires, hearing your friends and strangers complimenting you on how radiant and healthy and great you look, thinking about how you love taking care of your body inside and out.

See yourself having completed your degree, project, letter, book, task, whatever. See yourself walking across the stage, people wanting to buy your product, welcoming your project, asking you to give your presentation again, asking you about and enjoying the summary of what you read or learned.

Imagine yourself buying that house you have painted in your mind and furnishing it and having friends over and laughing and resting in your comfortable space every day!

See yourself in a relationship you just repaired or found and are enjoying. See how good it is for you and the other person; see and hear the uplifting conversations you are having and the fun activities you are enjoying together. Dream in pictures!

When talking to yourself, use words that are kind, uplifting, life-giving, generous—not the opposite. Speak in the same way you would to someone you love and care about; someone whose success would make you as happy as your own; someone you want to see happy, encouraged, loved. Talk to yourself in your mind and out loud like that each day and see what happens.

3. Imagine yourself as a triangle.

One side is your mind, connected to the second, your heart, connected to the third, your amazing body, with the entire space inside filled with who you really and most profoundly are—your spirit.

All of you needs to be cared for, attended to, and nurtured. Pay attention to what each part needs and requires. How is it lacking? What is it missing? What one thing can you do today to nurture each part?

I nourish my spirit through prayer and silence daily, which fills me with focus, strength, and insight, and I always pray for at least one person outside of my family as well. Walking is what helps care for my body during this season of life.

—

So there you have it: one, two, three.

When you get to the end of your day today, be sure to congratulate yourself on that one thing you did, that step you took, and look forward to doing it again tomorrow. Be your cheerleader and encourager and then, over time, you’ll see that change you’ve been looking for.

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About Nino Fincher

Nino’s purpose and passion is helping emotionally paralyzed people get unstuck and move forward personally and professionally. She splits her time mainly between Dubai and Dallas as a public speaker and helps individuals and groups through Rapid Transformational Therapy and coaching. Her background in fitness, counseling and theology are integrated to help work with each individual holistically. She is a wife and a mom.  You can find additional information or book Nino at www.Ninofit.com.

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How to Let Go of Your Need to Be Informed at all Times

“Don’t mistake being informed by trusting what you hear or read in the news. The most trusted information is what you feel in your gut.” ~Charles F Glassman

I was in my kitchen enjoying breakfast when a report about a murder was mentioned as one of the headlines on the radio news.

One of my boys started to ask me questions, none of which I could answer. They were questions about a detail of the murder, which I didn’t know, and also about bigger life issues, which at 7 a.m., I was struggling to get my head around.

I chose to turn the radio off, told the boys that we would chat about it later, and then removed the radio from the kitchen. This was in 2019, and I haven’t missed the radio since.

I’ve always had a radio in my kitchen and always listened to a talk-based radio station, so it felt a bit awkward for the first week or so, but over time, we began chatting more as a family in the mornings because we didn’t all have one ear tuned into the news.

A mentor and friend of mine told me a while ago she no longer watches the news. This gave me the permission I felt I needed to embrace this no-news new way of living. I never questioned her decision or asked for more details about the choice she had made. I knew something in me had flipped; I was no longer going to consume the news. This was going to mean radio, television, paper, and social media for me.

I had to form a few new habits around my news consumption. The next time I was driving my car I took a selection of my old CDs and a charger cable to plug my phone in so I could listen to audiobooks or podcasts. I always used to watch the 10:00 p.m. news headlines, but I decided to leave the sofa at 9:59 and hop straight up to bed at that time. I also stopped buying my weekend newspapers and turned off all news notifications on my phone.

My husband will occasionally say, “Oh, did you hear such and such on the news?” And I reply, “Nope, remember, I don’t get the news anymore” and then we start talking about something else.

I understand that the news highlights human interest stories, and part of the need to feel connected to each other might be fulfilled by taking in news stories, but I had to turn away when it all got too much.

When COVID hit, I questioned my decision. Was I being willfully ignorant? Well, no, actually. I don’t think so.

I was working in local government at the time, and all my work was face to face with very vulnerable people. My line manager was masterful at protecting his staff team and giving us all the information we needed to do our jobs as safely as possible. There was no way the media, local or national, could have helped me out on that one. I was aware of what was going on because, of course, people told me. Sometimes I was willing to listen to a bit of detail, but mostly not.

I don’t feel like I’m missing out by not keeping up with the news. I’m acutely aware of what I can control in my life. And I know most of what I would see, hear, or read on the news wouldn’t directly affect me. I came to the conclusion that the news always made me feel worse than before I’d heard or seen it.

I also recognized that I was not taking the time to see a variety of news sources or get differing viewpoints, so what I was getting was incredibly biased. It seemed to be debt, disaster, or some kind of controversy on repeat. I was not being uplifted in any way shape or form.

I realized that my life is going to be short enough. I sometimes don’t have enough time for the stuff I really want. So why was I wasting a precious second on something I had no control or influence over?

I spend a morning a week volunteering with refugees and asylum seekers who tell me their stories. I’d far rather hear first-hand realities from people who are in the same room as me.

Since turning off all the news channels in my house I have been able to tune in to my intuition and gut feelings more. The less I have consumed other people’s opinions on world events, the more I can hear the whispers of my soul.

If I need to know something, of course, I can go and look it up. My own research is tailored to what I want or need. I don’t feel like I’m missing out in any way. I feel like everything in my life is slightly better without consuming the news in the way that I used to. I save some money and time and experience far less anxiety. All good things in my opinion.

I don’t know if I’ll ever go back to watching, listening to, or reading the news in the future. I haven’t missed it in three years (apparently a lot has happened), and I’m doing just fine without it.

If you’re also considering giving up the news, it might help to start by asking yourself why you’ve felt the need to be informed at all times. Does it stem from fear and the desire to feel safe or in control? Or is it simply that you don’t want to be ignorant about something everyone else might know about and discuss? Then ask yourself what you’re really gaining and what you’re losing—time, energy, or peace, for example.

Once you understand why you’re constantly tuning in it will be a lot easier to tune out.

If the idea of eliminating all news feels too much at the moment, perhaps you could try reducing it in one area of your life. Go back to reading a novel instead of a paper on a Sunday. Watch the headlines at 6 p.m. but not the whole program. Listen to a podcast on a subject you feel passionate about and not on a topic you think you should know about.

We’re bombarded with information these days, but we get to decide what we take in based on what feels best for us.

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About Sarah Williamson

Sarah is the creator of Drink Less; Live Better. She’s a life coach supporting people who've concluded that their drinking is doing them more harm than good. She believes that you don't need to hit rock bottom to decide that change is possible. Sarah works online internationally delivering powerful 1:1 programs. Sign up for free 5 day Drink Less; Live Better experiment here. You can find her on Facebook and Instagram and listen to her podcast here.

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Two Exciting Updates (Including a FREE Life-Changing Event Next Week)

Hi friends! I’m thrilled to share that Suzanne from Generation Mindful is hosting a FREE online event from January 2^nd-4^th—the Reparent Yourself Online Summit.

I’ve been a huge fan of Generation Mindful since I had my two sons. I only felt comfortable having children after discovering that it’s possible to parent without shame, pain, or fear—and that this is actually the key to raising confident, emotionally resilient children.

Since then, I’ve devoured everything I can find on positive parenting, and Generation Mindful has been a lifesaver during those challenging moments when I’m feeling emotionally triggered and unsure of what to do.

In the Reparent Yourself Online Summit, you’ll hear from fifteen parenting experts and learn how to heal your wounded inner child, giving them the love, respect, and dignity they deserved when they were young.

Whether you’re a parent now or hope to have children someday, this is a wonderful opportunity to identify your triggers and patterns so you can break the cycle of generational trauma.

Not only that, you’ll be doing your part to help create a more peaceful world, with fewer wounded people hurting each other because they haven’t recovered from their childhood.

You can sign up for the free Reparent Yourself Online Summit here.

As for the second exciting update I mentioned, we’re now just five days away from the Best You, Best Life Bundle Sale—offering eighteen life-changing tools (including a positive parenting course from Suzanne), for ten days only, for the price of one!

From January 2nd through 11th, you’ll have a rare opportunity to get a wide range of personal development courses, focused on self-esteem, peace, purpose, emotional resilience, and more, for 95% off.

 

With programs from psychologist and mindfulness instructor Tara Brach, neuroplasticity expert Rick Hanson, bestselling spirituality author Matt Kahn, and more, the bundle can help you create change in almost every area of your life.

Mark your calendar and stay tuned for more information next week!

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About Lori Deschene

Lori Deschene is the founder of Tiny Buddha. She’s also the author of Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal, Tiny Buddha's Worry Journal, and Tiny Buddha's Inner Strength Journal and co-founder of Recreate Your Life Story, an online course that helps you let go of the past and live a life you love. For daily wisdom, join the Tiny Buddha list here. You can also follow Tiny Buddha on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

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If You Stuff Your Emotions Down: You Gotta Feel It to Heal It

“Sit with it. Sit with it. Sit with it. Sit with it. Even though you want to run. Even when it’s heavy and difficult. Even though you’re not quite sure of the way through. Healing happens by feeling.” ~Dr. Rebecca Ray

I’ve spent much of my life resisting my true feelings.

Anger made me feel wrong. Sadness made me feel weak. Neediness made me feel “girly.” Love made me feel scared.

I became an expert at hiding when I was feeling any of the above.

Some people numb their feelings with alcohol, drugs, shopping, or sex. I numb with control. Being in control. Exerting control. Maintaining iron-will control over everything in my life, including my emotions.

The thing about the  illusion of being in control is that it really only works for so long before emotions bubble up to the surface, erupt like a dormant volcano, and explode onto someone or something unintended. And trust me when I tell you, that ain’t pretty.

One of the most famous quotes of every twelve-step program is: “You gotta feel it to heal it.” As someone who absolutely hated feeling anything that made me uncomfortable, this was the best advice I’d ever heard and the single most important tool I started using over the years to heal from anything in my life that was hard.

It was in that twelve-step program for an eating disorder I had many years ago where I learned that all my ‘self-control’ tactics were an illusion.  If I would just allow myself to feel “it,” whatever “it” was, I could make peace with a lot of things, including myself.

My mom was the role model I grew up with. Strong. Resilient. Positive and always in control. I strived to be like her. Positive and happy no matter what life threw my way.

We were raised to not be weak, negative, or ungrateful because (we were told) somebody out there had it worse than us. The way through life was to remain positive. I mean, if she could do it, why couldn’t I?

But I was different. More sensitive. Overly sensitive. A tad too empathetic. A chronic people-pleaser who didn’t like to rock the boat or risk anyone not liking me. When I had big feelings, I thought it best to push those feelings right down.

Anger got me into trouble and cost me my childhood best friend. Sadness and tears (especially if, God forbid, they happened in the workplace) were “unprofessional,” I was told. And being anything but positive cramped my Supergirl vibe because people had gushed to me my entire life how “strong and resilient” I was, and I wanted to live up to their perception of me.

But pushing down my feelings led to things that, for periods of time, wrecked my life: Depression. Anxiety. Secrets. Migraines. Illness. Chronic fatigue. Binging. Purging. Lies. And ultimately, not feeling I could be who I truly was and still be loved.

And like every human being that walks this earth, I wanted to be able to be me and still be loved.

So I started to do work on myself. And that work, let me tell you, was hard. But as one of my very favorite authors, Glennon Doyle, likes to say, “We can do hard things.”

The hard thing for me was surrendering to the discomfort, the judgment of others, the judgments I had about myself, and owning the truth of who I was and how I actually felt about things.

So I went to therapy. I signed up for yoga/meditation retreats. I dove deep into spirituality. I prayed and sat in silence for hours listening for God and then writing what I heard Him say.

I traveled to Peru and then Costa Rica, where I was introduced to sacred plant medicine, and purged out all the feelings I didn’t realize I had been carrying for years in ceremonies that literally changed my life. Wisdom and visions guided me to make changes I don’t think I would have had the courage to make on my own.

If you’re brave enough to step outside your comfort zone and try different things to open your heart and hold a mirror up to yourself, you’ll uncover one simple truth: You’ve got to feel whatever it is you’re running from to heal that thing for good.

For those people who think I have it all together all the time, I want to set the record straight…

None of us has it together all of the time. And to believe that you should, that there is anybody in this world who has “it”—whatever “it” is—together all the time, well that’s the very thing that’s causing any of us to feel sad, angry, overwhelmed, depressed, anxious, (fill in the blank with whatever emotion you think you shouldn’t be feeling today).

I have it together most days. And others I’m completely overwhelmed.

I’m sometimes sad for no reason at all.  But still, I allow myself to cry.

I feel sorry for myself some days, knowing that somebody out there has it worse than me. But I no longer try to shut that feeling down. I let it come. Feel it. Let it pass.

We all have something in our lives that makes us feel sorry for ourselves. Let’s stop beating our chests and declaring to the world “I’m fine” when we really aren’t and, instead, accept it’s just a feeling—and feeling anything other than fine is not admitting we’re weak or pathetic, but human.

I get angry. And when I do, I  don’t make myself out to be a villain because of that anger. I just ask it what it’s trying to show me about myself or someone else and then I listen to it. I approach it with compassion instead of judgment. Maybe I have a right to be angry. Maybe someone is doing something hurtful, and the anger is inviting me to stand up for myself, or walk away, or learn how to set a boundary.

Every feeling we have is trying to teach us something. I’ve learned to listen to the teacher and ask, “What are you trying to show me?”

I’ve been through loss. Betrayal. Divorce. Depression. An eating disorder. All things that others have been through. We all have our things we need to heal from. Mine aren’t any harder or less hard than yours.

But you can heal. You can be happy even if you’ve been through something sad. You can be you and still be loved. But you’ve gotta feel it to heal it if you want to get there.

I’m grateful for all of my life. Not just the good stuff.

I’m grateful for the hard things. The hard things are what have shown me who I am, what I’m made of, and pushed me to create the best life possible for myself and my children. The hard things pushed me to heal things that needed to be healed for decades.

If sharing my story encourages just one person to find the courage to do the hard things to help them heal… well then, the hard things, in my opinion, have been totally worth it.

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About Dina Strada

Dina Strada, an Event Planner, writer, and intuitive counselor and coach, is passionate about expanding consciousness and helping others discover and live their life’s purpose.  She’s a graduate of Boston College and Coach U, a corporate and personal coach training program.  To learn more about Dina, visit her website Essential Balance Healing.

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I’m Kelly and I’m a Heroine Addict: Why I Get My Fix from Fixing People

“Self-will means believing that you alone have all the answers. Letting go of self-will means becoming willing to hold still, be open, and wait for guidance for yourself.”―Robin Norwood, Author of Women Who Love Too Much

My drug of choice is not the kind of heroin one shoots in their veins. My drug is the kind of heroine that ends with an e—the feminine version of hero.

When I help someone, and they are grateful for the gifts I offer, my brain fizzes with a cocktail of oxytocin, serotonin, and dopamine, resulting in a “helper’s high” I ride through town like a homecoming queen on a float, waving a gloved hand, blowing air kisses at admiring fans.

There is no accident these two words, heroin and heroine, look and sound so much alike because they strangely have more in common than you might think: They are both highly addictive, both more destructive than the user realizes, and both leave a trail of collateral damage.

According to the twelve steps, we stand a chance at recovery only if we can admit we are powerless over our addiction and that our lives have thus become unmanageable… so this is my coming out party. I figure by making this public declaration, I won’t be as tempted to sneak back to my old ways.

My painful revelation was delivered to me on a cinematic silver platter, while driving with someone incredibly close to me—let’s call her Chloe. She was desperate to find a place to live… that is until I’d swooped in on my noble steed, found her a hidden gem of an apartment, vouched for her, and landed her the deal of the century.

Instead of being met with the gratitude I expected (and secretly craved), I was devastated by her volcanic rage. She spewed, causing me to nearly drive off the road.

What crime did I commit, you ask? The week earlier, she had called me, and I had the audacity not to hear my phone ring. In fury, she screamed about how I had set her up to need me, depend on me, and think of me as her savior. And then, when she needed me most, my phone’s ringer was off, leaving her alone to flail in pain, cursing the water I once walked upon.

In my defense, I never (consciously) promised Chloe I’d be her forever rescuer. Little acts of service became the gateway drug to more elaborate feats that took immense effort and a toll on my own life. I somehow imagined one day I’d receive a smiling postcard from her, telling me my services were no longer required because of how brilliantly her life turned out (thanks to me)… but that hasn’t happened (yet).

How did I co-create such an epic fail?

Hitting rock bottom with my “disease to please” sent me on a search-and-rescue mission of my past to discover the genesis of my addiction. My detective work led me, surprise, back to childhood.

As the eldest of five, I was awarded points from my well-meaning parents for doing big-sisterly things, such as treating my siblings like they were my babies, teaching them to tie their shoes, showing them how to swing a softball bat, and how to combat bullies.

I was raised believing it was my job to take care of them, and I proudly accepted that mantle. It empowered me; it made me feel important.

But what I didn’t realize was that while I was getting puffed up like the Goodyear blimp with praise, soaring higher with every pat on my back, some of the victims of my heroism were becoming progressively weakened. It was as if my efforts sent the unconscious message that they were broken and crippled and, without me, incompetent.

As I struggled to more deeply understand my heroine addiction, I sought the counsel of a friend who said, “Your struggle is a microcosm of a global issue. For example, the US has funneled over 500 billion dollars to Sub-Saharan Africa (to mitigate starvation and famine), only to make the situation worse when they pulled out.” He continued, “In spite of good intentions, if the giving is a handout, not a hand up (giving fish instead of teaching how to fish), it’s unsustainable, exacerbating—not curing—the problem it set out to fix.”

Even though I extended my support without conscious strategy or agenda, I hurt people more than I helped.

So, what is the solution?

It isn’t as simple as no longer helping people. It’s like being an overeater who can’t just swear off food. If I had an actual heroin addiction, my job would be to cease injecting the drug in my arm. But even Abraham Maslow taught that service is near the top of his hierarchy of needs, and I’ve certainly been a grateful receiver of people’s kindnesses.

This is clearly one of life’s “can’t live with it, can’t live without it” conundrums. Perhaps I just have to figure out how to do “service” differently.

So, as a newly sober heroine addict (an energy vampire cloaked behind a superhero cape), convulsing in withdrawals as I seek to live on the razor’s edge between serving and savior-ing, here are my marching orders, thus far. Just for today (and hopefully every day after), I will:

1. Fire myself from the job I unwittingly accepted (too enthusiastically) as a little girl: to be everyone’s big sister.

2. Admit I have a problem and that I am powerless over saving, fixing, and controlling people.

3. Give up the belief that I know best on how others should live their lives.

4. Refrain from getting my fix by fixing people, searching for God in all the wrong places.

5. Make ruthless compassion my replacement addiction, in the way heroin addicts safely detox using methadone or suboxone.

Ruthless compassion, by the way, is the unwillingness to see another as broken or inadequate, but instead as innately whole and complete, regardless of what they’ve been through or what they believe to be true about themselves.

6. Practice “For Fun and For Free”—this 12-step motto is about only giving to others from surplus bandwidth (time, money, and energy) unless it’s a true emergency.

7. Tattoo my brain with my new personal prayer (a mashup of The Serenity Prayer and the lyrics to Kenny Roger’s “The Gambler”):

God grant me the serenity…

to know when to hold ‘em,

when to fold ‘em,

when to walk away

and when to run.

If you relate to my story, I hope this will help you with your hero or heroine addiction. But if it doesn’t, that’s okay. Because, through the lens of my new Ruthless Compassion sunglasses, I see you are more than capable of finding your own answers, thankfully without any excess do-gooding from me.

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About Kelly Sullivan Walden

Kelly Sullivan Walden is an international bestselling author of ten books, an award-winning dreams expert, an interfaith minister, a certified clinical hypnotherapist, a practitioner of religious science, an inspirational speaker, and a workshop facilitator. Also known as Doctor Dream, her unique approach to dream therapy led her to become a trusted advisor, coach, and consultant, enriching the lives of thousands of individuals across the globe. Learn more about Kelly and her work at KellySullivanWalden.com.

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Eating Too Much While Working from Home? How to Solve Emotional Snacking

“We eat the way we eat because we are afraid to feel what we feel.” ~Geneen Roth

Sometimes I feel like asking me, a recovering overeater, to work from home is as unreasonable as hoping a sex addict will pen a report from the lobby of a brothel.

Snarky email? Feel annoyed. Get Penguin bar from cupboard.

Meeting over? Feel relief at no longer being on camera. Eat Wagon Wheel from cupboard.

Worked hard today? Need a reward. Wait, who ate all the kids’ lunchbox treats? Never mind, people, all good: I found the cheese.

This was me when my desk moved from an office full of doctoral researchers to the corner of my living room.

Some people would say I was emotional eating, or “stress eating.”

But I didn’t recognize myself in that description.

Where was the stress? I worked for a university: plenty of holidays, flexible hours.

And although I hated the way I ate, I didn’t feel anything dramatic about work.

Looking back, yeah, I had the odd frustrating collaboration, a smidge of self-doubt, a bit of trying to make myself do a spreadsheet while believing “I’m not a spreadsheet person.”

I treated these low-level doubts and insecurities as insignificant because, like we all are, I was a professional at ignoring them.

What I couldn’t ignore, though, was a twenty pound weight gain.

So I tried to eat better food.

For instance, I banned chocolate from the house, put the kids on school lunches, and got the bread machine making wholemeal bread.

Unfortunately, the problem didn’t vanish: After working my way through a whole fresh baked loaf with butter one rainy Zoomtastic Wednesday in November, I just felt gross and out of control.

Then came the self-criticism. “I’m weak. I can’t stop.” That made me want to eat even more.

I was stuck in a vicious circle. But my vicious circle was like a half-moon: I could only see the half that involved stuffing my face.

Then one day, something happened in my work life that woke me up to what was really going on when I was eating.

At my work, we had to complete an annual professional development review. It was like a form I had to fill out about my strengths, weaknesses, and progress goals that my line manager and I both signed off on.

I put it off. For days, I ate dry granola standing up in the kitchen. I invented a weird mousse, made of creme fraiche stirred with tons of cocoa powder, honey, and lemon essence. I mixed and ate it multiple times a day.

When I finally tried to fill the form out, I fell apart. I felt my weaknesses were so glaring, and that I was such a productivity lost cause, that I cried and cried.

The unavoidable issue was, although I got results by throwing creativity and enthusiasm at my job, I was hopeless with time management and focus.

I phoned my line manager and told him everything (except the food part) in one outpouring.

He was a total star. Kind, receptive, unfazed.

He proposed a new daily practice…

Planning.

Urgh!

The idea was to plan my time every twenty-four hours, in my calendar.

It was a complete disaster. Every day, I’d veer wildly off-plan.

For instance, I’d aim to spend two hours producing slides for a presentation but end up reading research papers. Then I’d do my best work for the half hour before school pick up and arrive to the school gate late again.

Luckily, writing on my daily schedule became my new favorite procrastination tool: Even if I’d done nothing, at least I could evaluate why.

So I started noting, alongside my schedule, what I actually ended up spending my time on.

And I didn’t just write down the activity, either; I went further. I wrote my rationale for getting sidetracked.

Total. Game. Changer.

For each sidetrack, I wrote down the exact words I’d been inwardly telling myself, to make whatever had overtaken the priority seem so important in that moment. (My manager never saw this part, so I could be really honest with myself).

And there they were, in black and white! All the visits to the kitchen. All the thoughts and feelings behind the eating, made visible.

Since this was about time management, it gave me some objectivity on the eating issue.

This time-tracking activity was surfacing data about my eating behaviors, but unlike other attempts to track my eating, this time it wasn’t about my body, my weight, or my self-worth. Cold, hard info neutralized my outrageous, shameful eating habits just enough for me to be intrigued by what the hell was going on in my head.

That information led me to these learnings that I’m about to share with you.

Insights that completely revolutionized my emotional eating. I’m going to show you a perspective shift, an understanding, a tool, and a strategy.

These four things completely took me by surprise but had been under my nose all along.

Tools that help me to continue to unlearn my emotional eating as it relates to work.

Simple techniques that have helped me get healthier and more productive, and waste less of my energy hating myself for having snacked randomly all day.

So, if you’re feeling like food is calling you from the kitchen all day long, and you fear you’re just someone who needs to be in an office to function, think again.

These discoveries are going to help you let go of your urges and make all working environments an option.

Seriously, if working at the kitchen table can be safe and doable for me, it can be for you too.

1. A perspective shift: People don’t make you feel things; your thoughts do.

Some days, I blamed my boss for my eating.

For instance, she’d pick holes in my idea… I’d feel discouraged… Damn, now I’d polished off half a loaf of banana bread.

But she didn’t make me feel bad; my thoughts did.

I was making her criticism mean something about me: “I’m useless at my job and I’ll never get recognition.”

Until I wrote them down, those sentences ran all day beneath my awareness, so of course I felt inadequate and cheesed off!

We don’t notice our thoughts until we externalize them by speaking them out loud, or writing them down.

We swim around in them all day. It’s like being a fish that doesn’t know it’s in water.

2. An understanding: Feelings are physical.

When I felt tempted to go to the kitchen, it felt like a physical compulsion to walk there.

Like my body was a puppet, and the food was a puppet master.

I realized that feelings like urgency and self-doubt make my body especially restless. Jittery, insecure.

With a feeling coursing through me, my body literally did not want to stay seated at my desk. It wanted me to walk, move, shake off the crawling feeling.

That’s when the penny dropped that all emotions are bodily experiences.

Not just the extreme emotions: butterflies in your tummy, needing the bathroom before appearing on stage, or feeling like you’ve had a double espresso when you’re in love.

But also, low-level challenging emotions that normally reverberate in our bodies but are somewhat under our radar: boredom, confusion, slight overwhelm.

3. A tool: Change your thoughts on paper.

So now that I was noting my justifications for going to the fridge, I could see that my body’s restlessness was ramped up and my eating was given the go-ahead by the exact sentences I was running in my head.

Let me show you an example.

Thoughts about the task: “I don’t know where to start.” “This communications plan is just a formality; nobody will read it.” Feelings: Daunted. Hopeless. Draggy low energy. Justification for eating dark chocolate: “I’m tired, this’ll wake me up.”

With this understanding, I was able to make changes before the urge to eat even arose.

Instead of thinking downer thoughts and then believing food would pick me up, I could purposely say more encouraging sentences to myself to create motivated and confident feelings.

Except how? How could I think a new thought? Um, just think it?

Since writing things down was working for me, that’s what I kept doing.

I remembered revising for exams, when writing things over and over was my go-to revision method.

“Getting this done now will make my future life simpler.”

“I’m phenomenal at coping with my workload.”

Try writing it down right now!

“My work is a valuable contribution to the world.”

Imagine believing that was true.

When I discovered that, I was like: Mwah ha ha ha! I have the power to control my feelings!

4. A strategy: Surf your urges.

Journaling helped me nip some of my triggers in the bud.

But what about when I was already in the kitchen, or boiling the kettle, and the urge to browse the cupboard was already upon me?

Once an urge had hit me, I felt like eating was the only way to quiet it.

But now I had a new perspective on emotions as being physical, and I realized that urges are the same. Urges are just emotional desire. Restless desire in the body.

I also realized that I already let urges and desires come and go every day without acting on them.

For instance, I hadn’t acted on the urge to send a sweary, irate email to management for making me repeat an onerous online training I had done twelve months earlier. No brainer: Being rude would cost me my livelihood.

I just composed it in my head, had a rant to my husband, and then it passed. My body was inflamed with it for a bit, but after a while the sensation subsided.

So I wondered: What’s the equivalent for the urge to eat?

I noticed: When I have the urge to eat, my neck feels tight. I feel unsettled. Graspy.

It’s laughable really. When I feel compelled to satisfy an urge to go eat peanut butter on toast, I really just want to dissipate a fleeting tension in my neck?

Try it. Two minutes.

The even better news is, after a few days of letting urges come and go, they stopped coming so thick and fast.

So, friend, you don’t need to go back to the office to escape your compulsions.

And there’s nothing wrong with you for having them.

Our brains form habits to help us get through the day. They are just learned ways of coping with the emotional terrain of working life, and if I can learn better ways of coping, guaranteed you can too.

We put a lot of ourselves into our work lives, and work requires more of us emotionally than we give ourselves credit for.

It takes intentionality not to use food, Netflix, checking Facebook, and anything else that’s easy and mind-numbing not to take the edge off the tougher feelings, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

It takes a willingness to feel our feelings bodily, which is a skill we can cultivate.

So please go easy on your lovely, hard-working soul. Be patient. You’re doing a great job of being you.

And next time you’re staring vacantly into the cupboard while the kettle boils, remember you’re not alone. I’m learning this too.

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About Laura Lloyd

Laura Lloyd is a food psychology and weight loss coach, specializing in work-driven emotional eating. You can access her FREE training: How do I stop after-work overeating? here.

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20 Powerful Quotes to Help You Deal with Difficult Relationships

Relationships are never easy, especially relationships with family.

Some people seem to always push our buttons, making it hard not to react emotionally. Others trigger our deepest wounds, leaving us questioning our worth or sanity. And sometimes, without even realizing it, we’re the ones creating unnecessary conflict and drama.

We take things personally that aren’t really about us, assume the worst in people and act accordingly, and fight to be heard and understood while refusing to hear or understand the other person.

I know I’ve done all these things before, and I always wish later I’d responded more skillfully. With less emotion, defensiveness, or self-righteousness. With more composure, receptiveness, and self-awareness.

Since I know the holidays can feel like emotional landmines, I put together a collection of quotes that might help us all respond more wisely to the tense, triggering moments that could otherwise steal our peace and joy.

Read them, absorb them, carry them into your day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I hope these messages save you some heartache and help you be the person you want to be today.

And speaking of being the person you want to be, there’s still time to enter the Best You, Best Life Bundle Giveaway. Five winners will receive $2000+ in eCourses to help with mindfulness, emotional regulation, relationships, and more.

I wish you a wonderful holiday weekend, friends!

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About Lori Deschene

Lori Deschene is the founder of Tiny Buddha. She’s also the author of Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal, Tiny Buddha's Worry Journal, and Tiny Buddha's Inner Strength Journal and co-founder of Recreate Your Life Story, an online course that helps you let go of the past and live a life you love. For daily wisdom, join the Tiny Buddha list here. You can also follow Tiny Buddha on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

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The 3 Ms That Help Me Cope with Seasonal Depression

“The word ‘happy’ would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness.” ~Carl Jung

My two-year-old son looked up at me with his big, blue, beautiful eyes.

He wanted me to play. I took a toy car in my hand and rolled it along the wooden living room floor we were both sitting on, making an enthusiastic VROOM as I did it. He smiled. He appreciated my effort at sound effects.

The streetlights standing on the road outside our living room window were already glowing warmly, even though it was barely 4:30 p.m. and the sky was black.

I miss the summer evenings, I sighed to myself.

I stared up and out at the darkness briefly before Henry demanded my attention and I found myself looking down, playing cars again. I smiled up at him, doing my best to appear happy. To make him feel like I was enjoying playing cars with him.

The truth is, I didn’t feel enjoyment playing with him.

For a few weeks at this point I hadn’t felt much enjoyment from anything.

I was going through the motions. Attending to my familial and professional responsibilities as best I could. All the while, longing to be back in bed so I could sleep. Except, upon waking up, I never felt fully rested. I was instantly greeted by the same familiar feelings of fogginess, emptiness, and numbness.

Every morning as I got dressed, it felt like I was dressing myself in armor. Like the knights would wear in the movies I watched as a boy. A heavy metal armor that made the simplest of movements, like getting out of bed in the morning and playing cars with my son, feel like a battle that required all the strength I could muster.

I’ve suffered from seasonal affective disorder, a type of depression, for all of my adult life, but the winter of 2021 was the worst episode to date.

I put it down to a combination of sleep deprivation from being a parent to a toddler (I now understand why sleep deprivation is used as a torture technique), ongoing physical and mental challenges with long COVID, and uncertainty around whether I’d see family over the Christmas period due to lockdown restrictions.

As the darker days descend, I’m preparing myself for another potential battle.

I know I don’t need to fight this battle alone, so I’ll be calling on my friends and family to support me, as well as working with a therapist who formerly helped me process my experience.

There were three focuses that helped me get through the depressive episode last year. Here they are, the 3 Ms.

1. Mindfulness

Writer Rolf Dobelli suggests that we are two selves—the remembering self and the experiencing self.

Our remembering self is our story—who we think we are based on our past. My remembering self tells me I’m English, I love a double espresso, and have a history of anxiety and depression.

My experiencing self is different. My experiencing self is the me who is here, right now.

Experiencing myself writing.

Aware of the tapping sound my fingers make as they dance along the keyboard as I type.

Aware that my heart is beating slightly faster than usual, probably due to the chocolate I scarfed down a few minutes ago.

Aware of feeling vulnerable as I write about seasonal affective disorder.

Our experiencing self exists moment to moment, whereas the remembering self only exists in the past, through thought.

This idea was helpful to me during my 2021 depressive episode because it reminded me that I’m more than a depressed person (which would be a story from my remembering self); I’m a person who feels a lot of sadness, as well as many other feelings and emotions, some that feel comfortable, some that feel uncomfortable.

Back then, I’d take time each day to practice a mindfulness meditation. Sitting for five minutes, simply observing how I was feeling, importantly, without judgment.

Noticing what my mind was focusing on, as well as bringing awareness to my emotional state and breath.

I’d cultivate an attitude of compassion toward myself, avoiding firing the second arrow that’s taught in Buddhism, and not feeling bad for feeling bad.

I’d simply accept how I felt in the moment and allow myself to feel sad, helpless, and hopeless, without judgment, knowing that my feelings are always fleeting.

2. Meaning

The second M that helped me was meaning.

We’re told the meaning of life is to be happy. But there are going to be periods when we’re simply not going to feel happy. This doesn’t have to mean our life becomes meaningless; instead, it’s in our moments of unhappiness that it’s best to focus on what brings our life meaning.

Even though I don’t always enjoy playing cars with my son, raising him and spending time with him and his mum gives my life tremendous meaning.

Some mornings last winter I didn’t feel like getting up, and if I lived alone, I probably would have stayed in bed. But knowing my son and wife were depending on me, I felt a sense of duty to show up and be the best dad and husband I could be given my struggles.

I showed compassion toward myself by not believing any thoughts saying I needed to be perfect. Instead of choosing to feel ashamed for how I felt, which would make me feel like withdrawing, choosing self-compassion helped me to tackle my various responsibilities but also be realistic and not over-commit.

It meant honest communication and being okay with doing less than I normally would. I made a Top Ten Actions List by asking myself, what are the most important actions to take today to look after myself and address my responsibilities?

I also made a list of all the people, places, and activities that give my life meaning and breathe life into my soul and aimed to dedicate time toward them each day. Having a clear and achievable focus was helpful, and as the depression slowly lifted, I was able to return to my normal level of action.

3. Moments of Joy

Like the streetlamp I watched glowing warmly from my living window, there were moments during the depressive episode that pierced through the surrounding darkness.

The sound of my son’s laughter as he chuckled hysterically.

Feeling the peace and stillness of the forest on my walk.

Being reunited with friends after lockdown and catching up over a coffee.

The wisest words I’ve ever heard were these: Look for the good in your life, and you’ll see the good in your life.

This isn’t a matter of positive thinking—it’s a matter of acknowledgement.

Even on the days when my mood was at its lowest, there were a handful of joyous moments shaking me temporarily from my depressed state and waking me up to the truth that even on the darkest of nights, there are lights shining for us.

These lights, the people and events bringing joy to our life, are little beacons of hope, reasons to be appreciative. And basking in their warmth momentarily can keep us trudging along in the darkness until, hopefully, a day arrives when it lifts and the sun rises again.

At the end of each day last winter, I’d take a minute to write down any joyous moments and bask in their warmth again as I revisited them in my mind.

—

The most challenging aspect of depression is how it tries to convince us that not only is everything bad, but everything will stay bad permanently.

Through focusing on mindfulness, meaning, and moments of joy, fortunately, I was able to see again that this isn’t true.

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About Will Aylward

Will helps people around the world to feel more confident, calm, and fulfilled, without them having to fake it. He is the author of Becoming Unstuck: Your Step by Step Guide to Taking Charge of Your Life. Learn more at willaylward.com

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The Major Aha Moment That Helped Me Stop Fixating on Fixing Myself

“The real difficulty is to overcome how you think about yourself.” ~Maya Angelou

My newest friend ended our three-month-long friendship on a July day when I’d just returned from a dreadful summer vacation. Her Dear Jane email read, “It’s not you, it’s me.” The lever had been pulled, I was dumped, and I thought, “Ha!” I’d spent the last three months trying to help her fix her problems. I knew she had more problems than me.

But then an anxious, obsessive thought loop began. What did it really mean? How could it not be about me?

This wasn’t the first time I’d lost a friend, so of course, I needed to diagnose, dissect, and determine the origin of this unhappy pattern. My anxieties were ramping up, and I needed to fix something before this reoccurred. So I made an appointment with a therapist named Dr. Mary.

After an hour’s drive through big city traffic, I arrived late and shaken to that first therapy session.

Within fifteen minutes, Dr. Mary helped me recognize the parallel between my friendships and my relationship with my mother and and pointed out I didn’t have to parent my mom, a lifelong project due to her unsteady mental health. I was disappointed but relieved to find I wasn’t there to fix my mom’s narcissistic behavior. I was there just to fix myself. I paid her the ninety-five out-of-pocket dollars I owed and left feeling slightly better.

Two weeks later, I drove that same hour for my second therapy session. I was not prepared for what I would take away this time.

When I brought up my mother again, Dr. Mary asked me why I needed to change my mother. Couldn’t I allow her to just be?

I was confused. Weren’t my mother issues the cause of everything? “If it’s not one thing, it’s your mother,” my friends and I always joked. And why wouldn’t my mom want to gain from my knowledge, love, and insight?

Dr. Mary fed this next concept to me slowly. “Maybe you need to fix people so you can feel powerful, and then no one will be paying attention to your flaws. Maybe you want to distract others from seeing how unlovable you think you are.”

This concept slowly hummed in my head until tears seeped from my face.

Eventually I found tissues near my couch spot. And then our time was up.

“Do you have any books you can suggest reading on raising self-esteem?” I asked as I paid her, needing something more to help process this information. “No,” she said, and then she opened the door and let a different version of me out into the world than the me who’d entered.

As I drove to meet my friend for a lunch date, my mind screamed, “I’m freaking forty-five years old, and I have low self-esteem!!??” Over our Cuban pork sandwiches with mojo sauce, my friend Terry said, “Who doesn’t have low self-esteem?”

Apparently, my discovery of my buried dysfunction was the new trendy life hiccup I was now living. When had low self-esteem become the in thing?

My head was filled with angry bees as I journeyed the hour-plus back home. I didn’t feel good enough to be my kid’s parent that night. I fumed over Dr. Mary’s edict about my sentence of low self-esteem and not okay-ness.

I had worked hard all my adult life on my self-awareness and self-love with therapy, self-help books, and humility! How dare she rob me of my self-definition and my purpose of showing others how to be okay. Who was I supposed to be now?

A week and many journal pages later, I wanted to be done marinating in my indignation, so I crossed the grassy field to the library, intending to check out any and all books on self-esteem. When I explained what had happened, the librarians agreed that it’s hard to fill your self-esteem cup up if you don’t know what that cup or its contents looks like. Wise souls those women.

At home, I read and thought and sat with my low self-esteem verdict. And then unexpectedly, I began to feel a new peacefulness. My anxiety was diminishing. Dissipating. Disappearing.

If I was off the hook to fix the faults I saw in others, I would no longer have to fix the faults I saw in myself. My low self-esteem and anxieties were allowed. I could be just where I was until I was somewhere else. I was in a new place where I was okay with me, you could just be you, and where judgments no longer served a purpose. By naming the inner beast, I had somehow released it too.

I am still attracted to people who self-admittedly need a little life tune-up, but I don’t obsess over “their” recipe for success or what “they” could do to be fixed. I make every day count toward my own healing.

Eventually, with the help of medication, my anxiety felt like a phantom limb, a memory of a part of me that was no longer there, though I also need an occasional therapy tune-up.

All I had to do was admit and own who and where I was to stop fixating on the fixing. If I saw her today, I’d thank Dr. Mary for the gift of my freedom. And I’d mention a couple of very good books on self-esteem I’d read.

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About Shalagh Hogan

Shalagh Hogan, pronounced Shay-La, dwells in Maryland with her husband, teen boy, nine-year-old girl, and three cats. Her lifestyle and self-discovery blog at Shalavee.com just turned eleven. Her hope and joy as a writer and an artist is that, by sharing her journey of self-discovery and creative soul-searching, others will gain inspiration and permission for their own journeys. She spends much of her online time with her community on Instagram.

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