Were you loved enough?

That is a very tough subjective question, I know. What defines enough? Can there ever really be enough when it comes to love?

My dog, Cooper is snoring beside me right now and the sound is to me what a baby’s laughter is to a new parent. When it comes to my feelings for this mustachioed, four-legged love of my life, there is no room for growth. My heart grew three sizes the day I met him, nearly making my chest explode. He has taught me more about the human capacity for love than any romance movie or relationship ever could. That is because he taught me what unconditional love is.

Love is a human need. Once our physiological and safety needs are fulfilled, we seek a sense of belonging, interpersonal relationships, and love. Without it, we don’t grow right, like a sunflower in the shade.

We spend our lives throwing the word “love” around; craving it, seeking it, feeling it; giving it. We love siblings, ice cream, parents and pets; snow days, pizza, spouses and brunettes.

But are you loved enough?

I want to be loved so deeply and so hard that a magical whirlwind of sparkles forms within my chest collecting every shattered fragment of my heart, piecing it back together. I want to be loved so much that it makes up for every single time I wasn’t. I want a love that I never have to fear losing. I want unconditional love for the rest of my life.

This is a tall order.

Cooper loves me unconditionally. He is also a dog and a fool who will not live the rest of my life, assuming I stick around a while. I say he is a fool because I am not who he thinks I am. I wish I was, but I’m not. I am broken and imperfect.

I haven’t been loved enough. But am I even worthy of such love that I seek? Aren’t we taught not to ask for things we’re not willing to give? I can’t give myself the love I seek. How often do you love yourself?

I have looked in the mirror, right into my own eyes, and said, “I hate you.” I know how to love, and I’m not just referring to the love for my dog. I love many people. I have loved flawed, broken people with the intensity that I wish to be loved with. I have looked into their eyes and found the perfection, and said the words, and meant it.

I have looked into the mirror, into my own eyes, found nothing but imperfection, said, “I don’t love you,” and meant it.

Why is it so hard to love ourselves? If we can’t love ourselves, why should anyone else? I can hardly take a compliment. Last night I told a friend he looked great when I greeted him and he kissed my cheek and said, “so do you!”. I said, “Ugh, no I don’t. I got so fat.” Why did I do that? I stopped myself and apologized and said “thank you”. If I can’t even take a compliment, is it any wonder I have trouble believing I deserve to be loved.

We need love to grow right. Are we really at the mercy of our parents, family, friends, lovers, spouses to love us enough? Is our growth really forever stunted if we weren’t? Can they ever really love us enough to make up for how we really feel about ourselves? What happens when people stop loving us? Love is the sun. Without it, we droop and shrivel. Why should anyone love me if I cannot even love myself? Only one person can love me the way I want to be loved, forever and unconditionally, and it’s me.

I do not hate myself anymore, but I barely like myself. In some ways, I am like a somewhat annoying acquaintance to myself that I have some respect for and who I sometimes have a good time with, but mostly try to avoid. To love myself is the pie in the sky dream – it’s the goal. To be forgiving and gentle and kind and to look in the mirror when my heart is broken and my eyes are red and swollen and smile at myself and say “I love you”.

For now, I just want to like me again.

See this little girl?

I love her. She is beautiful and fun, confident and free. She is bold and adventurous, innocent and honest.

I used to be her.

I no longer identify with her; she is a completely separate person whom I love because I admire so much in her. Isn’t that how we begin to fall in love? We see things in someone that we admire? Their smile, their intelligence, the way they use words, the way they make us feel when we are around them, like we can be a better person. She makes me want to be a better person. Several people I love make me want to be a better person. I want to be worthy of their love. I want to make this little girl, and the people I love, proud to love me back.

In order to be able to look at myself in a mirror and be able to say the words, “I like you”, I will need to eliminate things I don’t like about myself. When I set out on this journey, I have aimed to be more loving and kind, gentle and compassionate to other people. Only a little of that has spilled over in my own direction.

Being at war with myself has been so exhausting. I need to work harder at being someone I am proud of; someone I admire. Maybe then I could learn to love myself and receive love from others.

I thrive when I accomplish lots of little things every day and pro-actively work toward my goals. I am at my best when I am exercising regularly, eating right, organized and prepared, and my house is neat. I feel good physically and mentally; my days are full, long and productive. I could remove trash from all the oceans with a pool skimmer, given the time and resources.

I had been on a fairly consistent roll for 2015, until I hit my first heavy hurdle that appeared in the form of a nine day sickness. I fought valiantly, but was defeated, and left laid out exhausted with sinus pain that made the simple act of seeing difficult.

In the big scheme of things, this is a small hurdle, I know. Hurdles come in all shapes, sizes and durations, but they are all setbacks and have the potential to cause us to slow down, back up, trip, or severely fall. Getting up again after a hurdle can be really challenging because while you’re holding your skinned knee, eyes clenched, whistling through your teeth in pain, a mountain grows in front of you. All the tasks, e-mails, looming deadlines, laundry, mess, missed workouts and unhealthy convenience foods create a ball that rolls through the days you’re sitting on the bench. It grows bigger, attracting every single thing you wanted to do, but didn’t, until this giant ball of crap blocks out the sun and a shadow falls over you and you feel defeated, not even knowing where to begin to climb this thing so you just walk away, shoulders slumped.

Sound familiar? Broken hearts, sicknesses, losses, failures, arguments, injuries, stresses – all hurdles that destroy momentum, all with the power to form mountains.

After nine days of sickness, fortunately there was no mountain, but a hill for me to climb. Damnit, I thought to myself, I had been doing so well! It was after that thought that I realized that getting sick was no failure on my part. Even if it was, big deal, shit happens. I realized the first step up the hill was to forgive myself for its creation. My hill formed because I was sick, and taking care of ME, saying “no” to commitments and people, which has always been hard for me, taking Nyquil at 7:00 pm and going to bed; putting ME and my well-being first, so I could recuperate as fast as possible.

I think this is where most of us fail. We allow guilt and defeat to bury us after our setbacks. Forgive yourself. It’s not like you tripped walking in a straight line. You tripped taking on a hurdle, and they can be pretty damn high! At least you were in the race!

After you forgive yourself, try to set time aside to start working on getting caught up. Go grocery shopping, get a workout in even if all you do is walk on the treadmill, commit to tasks in 45 minute chunks and switch the laundry in between each one. Start small, and most importantly, be patient and gentle with yourself. You may not be as strong or as energetic as you were before you stumbled. That’s okay – you got to that point once and you can get there again.

This is exactly what I’m doing, being mindful not to overdo it or put too much pressure on myself. I tackled a few things and am still getting caught up. I understand it will most likely take the rest of the week to get there.

Mountains are only looming when you’re looking up at them from a distance. Once you’re on one, you see there is a clearly marked trail to follow and you can no longer see how high it is. Before you know it, you’ve covered great distance.

When you start your day repeating 108 times “I have a choice”, the idea of choice stays with you throughout the day. So I’ve been asking myself: Am I choosing happiness? 

Ask yourself: Am I choosing happiness?

I’ve been working to limit the choices I make unconsciously when I’m emotional. But to do so, I’ve needed to learn how to pause and question my options. That’s been challenging, particularly because I’m a passionate and emotional person. When I’m able to pause, I’m no longer at the mercy of impulsiveness and options present themselves. Choosing the best option isn’t always easy, though. So to help me, I try to approach my options by asking, “what will bring me happiness?”

In The Art of Happiness, Howard C. Cutler, M.D writes, “Approaching our daily decisions and choices with this question in mind shifts the focus from what we are denying ourselves to what we are seeking – ultimate happiness” (36).

Let’s use emotional eating, something I am all too familiar with, as an example. Let’s say you had a bad day; you got caught in the rain without an umbrella so you were wet and cold all morning, work was stressful and nothing seemed to go right, and then you snapped at your spouse when you got home and now he’s angry with you. You’re hungry and your emotional response is to reach for the take-out menu and order your favorite greasy, cheesy comfort food.

But you pause and catch yourself. You remember that you have a choice and don’t have to allow your emotions to dictate what you eat. You become aware of your options: one, indulge in some comfort food or two, cook the salmon that is defrosted in the fridge and roast the vegetables you bought to go with it when you were feeling positive. Tough call. Look at each option and ask yourself: which will bring me happiness.

If you’re anything like me, pizza brings you happiness. But if you’re also like me, that happiness is fleeting and sometimes leaves you feeling guilty or with regret, particularly on days when pizza wasn’t planned and salmon is defrosted in your fridge. When asking if something will bring you happiness, I’m not referring to short term, fleeting, instant-gratification-happiness, like eating a slice of pizza, but a lasting happiness that doesn’t waiver with mood fluctuations and emotions.

Dr. Cutler writes:

“With this perspective, it’s easier to make the “right decision” because we are acting to give ourselves something, not denying or withholding something from ourselves – an attitude of moving toward rather than moving away, an attitude of embracing life rather than rejecting it” (36).

So rather than thinking that choosing salmon means denying ourselves pizza, we can think instead that by choosing the salmon we are giving ourselves happiness and embracing a healthier life, rather than rejecting it. This can be applied to nearly all small, day to day decisions. Stay in or go out? Vent your frustration or keep your mouth shut? Go to bed early or edit five more pages? Go to the gym or go home? What brings you more happiness may change in each situation.

The goal is to have control of one’s life and make decisions in our own best interests. We can pave the way toward a happier life with less guilt and regret, while letting go of victim-hood and the idea that circumstances rule over us. We just need to remember to pause and ask ourselves what will bring me happiness.

This is where I’m at now. Learning to slow down and remember I have a choice, assessing my options and making decisions that will bring us the most happiness.

Are you choosing happiness in your day to day life? I’d love to hear from you.

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I wasn’t in the best mood yesterday afternoon. Originally, I had plans to go home, experiment with zucchini noodles for a low-carb vegetarian dinner and then go to yoga class. I could just feel those plans slipping away in a fog of ambivalence as I sat annoyed for no particularly good reason. Visions of pajamas, pizza, bad television and an early bed time danced seductively across my mind.

I have often been a slave to my mood, allowing it to cancel my plans, dictate my behavior, control the foods I ate. Yesterday was no exception. That was until four one-syllable words burst through the voices of defeat and indolence, loud and clear.

I have a choice.

I almost laughed, as a joyful calm came over me. I can turn it around right now.

I thought of all the hours, evenings, DAYS I had wasted being pissed off or in a funk, riding it out because nothing happened to warrant a shift in my mood or make me feel better. I had forfeited my right to choose, giving in to negativity. But all along I could have simply chosen to feel better.

In no time, I was looking forward to my evening.

I arrived home and was harshly reminded by my discomfort that the heat was still broken. The thermostat read 52 degrees. My warm bed was very inviting.

I have a choice.

Then my husband informed me that the water was currently off while the heat was being repaired.

Annoyed. Pizza. Bed.

“The Brita is full. We have some water,” he said.

I chose to cook.

After dinner, my bones achy from the cold, I crawled in to bed with a magazine.

Is this it for today? Is this your choice, or are you just cold?

I got out of bed, did laundry and cleaned up.

Feeling more accomplished, I climbed back in to bed and made the choice to spend the rest of the night playing on Pinterest, another excellent choice.

This morning, I made the choice to get up at 4:45 am and go to the gym. Afterward, grateful for my wonderful new mantra, I decided to meditate and begin the empowerment of my mala.

A mala is basically prayer beads that come in either necklace or bracelet form, made up of materials and colors that represent the characteristics the wearer seeks. A dear friend gave one to me several months ago. To use a mala, you meditate on your mantra reciting it for each bead, empowering it with your mantra so that when worn or placed on others, it can transfer the power of the mantra. This meditation is done every day for 40 days. I hadn’t done it because I didn’t have a mantra.

Incense and candles burning, music playing, I took my mala in my hand and began to meditate on my choices, reciting my mantra as each cool bead passed between my fingertips.

I have a choice in how I feel.
I have a choice in what I say.
I have a choice in what I eat.
I have a choice in how I behave.
I have a choice in what I think.
I have a choice in what I do.
I have a choice…
I have a choice…
I have a choice…
I have a choice.

Recently I added a new book to my current rotation, which immediately introduced me to the Law of Attraction, which I am not convinced isn’t a bunch of phooey (no, it’s not The Secret). Basically, the Law of Attraction is centered around the belief that by focusing on positive or negative thoughts, one can bring about positive or negative results. For example, if you believe and envision yourself as fat and lazy, chances are that’s exactly what you are going to be no matter how much you wish otherwise. Your thoughts attract the reality. It really makes sense. It is safe to say that there is great power in a positive attitude and we have all witnessed how detrimental a negative one can be. Where I am skeptical is the notion that I will find money or win a trip to Hawaii simply for believing and envisioning that I will. But I digress…

As I was reading about the Law of Attraction, it was suggested I look at photos of my loved ones and direct positive thoughts and energy toward them, too, which I thought was a very lovely idea. It was like giving a little, free gift, not unlike saying a prayer for someone, and it made me feel good. But rather than ask that they be watched over and blessed, I envisioned them feeling the warmth of the sun on their face, peace in their hearts, hassle-free days; things like that. At the very least, it couldn’t hurt.

A few days later, I was having a really off day. My mind was busy. I felt anxious and depressed and everything seemed unstable. I wanted comfort and distraction; to dive headfirst into the pitfalls of my bad habits and embrace my bed and sleep for twelve hours, or get a bunch of junk food and zone out to movies, numbing all the pain I was feeling in the process.

The realization of how far I have come that I was actually aware of how I was feeling shed enough light through the crack that I knew I couldn’t give in and pull the shades on the sun shining through. I practiced meditation to abate my unquiet mind and pacing body. It was a futile attempt. With nothing to focus on and being completely unable to focus on nothing, I went to a coffee shop and wrote.

The very next day, switching gears, I went back to another book I have been reading. On the very page that my bookmark casually leaned against as if waiting patiently for my return, I learned about Metta Meditation. Metta means loving-kindness, and the goal is to help you reverse your programming so you can open your heart, rather than close it. It involves four steps:

1. Send loving-kindness to yourself
2. Send loving-kindness to someone you love
3. Send loving-kindness to someone you are neutral about, like a colleague or acquaintance
4. Send loving-kindness to someone you dislike or feel resentment toward

The similarities between the two concepts couldn’t be denied and I realized the universe was speaking to me. Furthermore, I also just found a solution to my shoddy meditation practice. Rather than try to focus on nothing, I would focus all my attention on sending loving-kindness to myself and others while practicing letting go and positive thinking.

But I also sensed something was coming. The universe was preparing me.

The very next day, someone I strongly dislike really ticked me off. I was irritated and wanted to confront her although I knew it would only exacerbate things. Anger can eat at me for some time and I hated thinking such negative thoughts. Again, I was failing to be compassionate and gentle – I was closing my heart. After a short while, I remembered Metta Meditation and smiled. Thanks, universe. It was a foreign, yet incredible thing to sit and think loving-kind thoughts to someone I really can’t stand. It wasn’t even as hard as I thought it would be, because the universe had sent me another little gift that morning by means of the below photo in my Pinterest feed:

How true that is.

If only that was the end to putting knowledge into practice for one week.

Most unfortunately, over the past three days, I have quite unexpectedly felt profound disappointment and great hurt at the hands of two people I love. I have felt agonizing helplessness, as well as great sadness. With no opportunity to communicate or resolve, there was literally nothing I could say or do except feel my feelings, try to process them and allow them to close down my heart until they diminished and I would be able to let them go. That was until I remembered that I had been prepared for this. I knew what I had to do, and it involved opening my heart.

First, I sent myself loving-kindness. Then, one at a time, I sent loving-kindness to the people who hurt me. It wasn’t elaborate; there was no incense or music. These things are unnecessary and procuring them can be a form of procrastination. Right where you are this very minute you can shut the door if you’re alone, or go in the bathroom if you have to, take a deep breath, lower your eyes, and begin sending loving-kindness. Not sure what to say? Say this: I send loving-kindness to ________. My wish is that he/she experiences only love and happiness in his/her life.

I still feel sadness and disappointment, but rather than anger toward these people, I feel love. I do not wish bad things because they hurt me. I do not feel the need to convey my feelings to them nor do I desire an apology. I will simply continue to send loving-kindness, just like I did from my bed this morning when I woke up.

Being hurt, yet feeling love is incredible. Next time you are angry at yourself or someone else, I do hope you will try it. Whatever you wish to call it, you are opening your heart, and it is a wonderful thing.

Peace.

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Heatherash Amara says in “Warrior Goddess Training” that we commit to who we think we should be, rather than committing to meeting ourselves where we are. That is absolutely true in my case. As I have explained, a lot of my suffering has stemmed from my attachment to my desires and expectations; who I want myself and others to be, and finding myself often terribly disappointed. I know I’m not alone in this.

On one particularly tough day several months ago, all I wanted was a long hot soak in the tub. That’s what women do after a long, hard day, right? It sounded so relaxing. I imagined myself in my pristine tub, soaking in bubbles up to my neck, breathing in the scent of pumpkin spice, a soft gentle smile on my face as I sighed the nonsense of the day away, completely at peace.

When I got home, I headed for the bathroom and pulled back the shower curtain. Since I wasn’t expecting company, the tub definitely needed cleaning before I soaked naked inside of it. Looking down at the grime, I remembered the awkward truth that I barely even fit in my tub. I don’t even own bubble bath!

My entire image was a bullshit creation of who I thought I should be. I wouldn’t be a peaceful woman soaking elegantly in bubbles with a smile. I would just be an angry woman squeezed into a tub with a face full of discomfort and disappointment.

So instead, I got changed, put on my sneakers, and ran as fast as I could for as long as I could. And then the stresses of the day fell away and I felt better. That’s who I was that day. Learning who you are on any given day takes trial and error. I know I don’t want to be the angry person in the tub, so I’ll continue to practice being flexible and remembering that who I want to be might not be who I actually am at the time. Let’s all commit to meeting ourselves where we are.

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One moment I was making a sandwich, the next I struggled to catch my breath. Heart pounding, I gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles white against the cream laminate, vision blurred by fat tears that streaked my fresh eye make-up. It was a random morning and I was getting ready for work. Preparing my lunch, anxiety struck. Thankfully, I’ve since learned how to mange my anxiety.

Anxiety wasn’t an unusual thing. Anxiety attacks have brought me to my knees, seemingly out of nowhere. All I could manage was to wrap my arms around myself, rock gently and cry until it passed, whispering to myself, “sshhh, it’s okay.”

Understanding Why I Was So Anxious

The thing is though, my anxiety attacks didn’t come out of nowhere. I know now that they were invited by my stress and imagination; created by my overactive mind that worried incessantly about the future.

That morning in my kitchen, a thought burst through the chaos in my brain, loud and clear.

All you have to do right now is make a sandwich. Just make the sandwich, sweetie.

I took a deep breath, looked down at my partially made sandwich and continued its assembly, letting my tears do the seasoning as I grew calmer. I made my way back to the present.

Managing My Anxiety

I haven’t had an anxiety attack since I made that sandwich. Not because my problems have gone away – far from it. But because I know that no life decisions need to be made at 7 am on a weekday; that the conversations I have in my head never turn out in real life the way I imagine them; because I cannot tell the future; because I am learning to trust that things happen when they are meant to; that they have a way of working out in the end, for better or for worse and no amount of mental agony on my part is going to change that.

Life happens one thing at a time.

My dear friend, Kathy shared with me that one morning she was helping her three year-old go potty when he got very upset and sobbed that he didn’t want to go to school. “Right now,” she said, “we’re just going potty. That’s all.” He immediately calmed down.

I still worry and feel anxious sometimes. But now I have the tools to not let it get out of hand to the point that I am not in control of my body. I catch myself getting worked up and I say to myself, “Just make the sandwich.”

One thing at a time. Whether you’re making a sandwich, or just going potty, that is all that requires your attention at that moment.

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