16 simple steps to change your past and create your future

Where do you
want to go? 

I've spent a lot of time working on mindset and on letting go of my past. I had plenty of stuff happen to me throughout my life, particularly my teen years, as I've written about here on occasion. 

There are days I still feel like I'm far behind where I could have been if I'd had better parents, better teachers, better role models. But I didn't. And as an adult, I am the only one responsible for where I am in my life. Sure, I was a little slow off the mark. I'd like to be financially independent like some of my high school mates. But I'm alive, and some of those high school mates aren't. There are no guarantees. 

We all make choices, even if they're unconscious. Our patterns and beliefs served us at points in time. We developed coping skills and habits to move us along in the world. But at some point, we have to look at whether these continue to serve us or hinder our progress. A lot of the time, they stop us from having the life we want. 

Our roadmap

I've written about Landmark's Forum, too. A few questions I took away, all those years ago, are:

• what did you make it mean?
• what's the payoff?

What those two questions refer to are the incidents that happened to us and the meaning we assigned them. Even pre-verbal, we can assign meaning to something that directly impacts our self-worth, but most often, it's something that happened when we were kids. Sometimes it's truly something heinous. I totally get that. I had a few of those things. Big things. Things I'm still not comfortable writing about here. But at some point, we have to decide if that's the roadmap we want.  

Problem is, a lot of us don't even know it's a map. But it is. How we interact with our past shows up in how we interact with the world. Is the world a friendly place? Is there enough to go around? How do you make your presence known? Do you often feel bad about what happened to you, or someone else? (Just so you know, they may be over it...)

Change your story...

We CAN change our past. No, we can't change what happened, but we can change how we see it, feel about it, and our response to it, which really does change it. Our minds are amazing things... We have the power. 

Edwene Gaines, a Unity minister in Alabama, overcame a life of poverty and tells her compelling life story in The Four Spiritual Laws of Prosperity. In a vignette that illustrates the power of changing our story about something that happened, she talks about changing her consciousness around sexual abuse, and the gift of an understanding heart that came from that. That's huge. I'm not suggesting you do that, but, how we view our past plays out in our future in one way or another.  

It's worth doing the deep work to uncover these beliefs, habits, world views, and coping mechanisms. Because if we don't know they're there, they will drive us based on that existing map, full of potholes and dead ends, and keep us from getting where we want to go. Or at least, it'll take a lot longer to get there.  

Don't believe me? Try it.  

Simple, but not easy

So, in that vein, I have a list of steps for your consideration that can help you change your past and create your future. They're things to note and things to do, all simple, but not easy: 

1. When you focus on whatever happened in your past, you give it power
2. When you focus on that past event, you give it meaning
3. Consider: how real and true is the meaning you gave it? was it someone else's opinion, and if yes, why did their opinion matter, and does it still? 
4. Now: assign new meaning to whatever happened to you—what good came from what happened? Feel it, believe it, know it in your bones. Make it real. 
5. And, devalue whoever else's opinion played in, because their opinion has less weight than yours; you are the expert on your life and who you are
6. Ask yourself: what's the payoff? Do you still get value by reliving what happened? For example, some of us like to be right, and by living in our past, we get to be right, or we get to be a victim, and not take responsibility for where we are in your lives
7. Ask yourself: what did you learn from what happened to you that has value for you now
8. Own that something good came from your experience
9. Forgive anyone who harmed you, or yourself, for harming yourself or others
10. When old tapes start to play restating that meaning, or that opinion, hit the stop button on your internal stereo
11. Put in a new tape that brings you joy; what do you want to tell yourself instead? You get to make it up, just like you did the first time, only this time with more wisdom and knowledge to draw from
12. Give yourself room to dream and create a better future
13. Decide that you deserve to have better problems, and that you can't carry the world on your shoulders
14. Do what's yours to do and let go of the rest, trusting that we all have something we can do, and we do it the best we can
15. Stop caring what anyone else thinks, and let go of the need for permission; chances are, if you're reading this, you're an adult, and you don't need permission, and anyone else's opinion of you or your actions is none of your business
16. Remember: all that old stuff doesn't serve you now unless you're getting a payoff, and then you have to ask if the payoff is worth it. All that old stuff showed up to keep you safe, but if you want to grow, evolve, and flourish, you have to change your mind about your experience and give it new meaning.

And a bonus step: To quote Richard Bach in Jonathan Livingston Seagull, "argue for your limitations and they're yours."


If you like this post, or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find me here.

Practicing impermanence

Callas are symbols of both rebirth
and death. They die back each year,
but the next year, they're stronger,
more beautiful, and more plentiful
than the year before. 

I am reminded this month of life's impermanence. Although I believe we are all energy, and energy can't be created or destroyed and only changes form, as humans on this mortal plane, we are impermanent. 

So as in life, so as in death.  

As humans, we are ever-changing, moment-by-moment, with every breath. As humans, we attach identity and meaning, but we choose these, either consciously or unconsciously. 

Our circumstances are also impermanent. And this is all good news.  

May is a month of anniversaries for me: the week after Mother's Day is the anniversary of my mom's death—this year marks 19 years. Her sister, who preceded her in death by several years, also left her earthly body in May. There are more. 

I currently have friends who just lost or are about to lose their closest relationships—one whose father recently transitioned, another whose parents are nearing their final days, and another whose date with death is literally planned through a MAID, or Medical Assistance in Death. It's not an easy time for many. 


The gift of presence


Death is hard for those who are left behind. 

On the same side of anguish, however, is presence. Death changes us, marks us, and shifts our perspective, reminding us of our own impermanence. Which makes today, our present moment, that much more meaningful and precious. 

On the other side of anguish is gratitude—for the moment, for our current experience, and for the future we still get to create. For the memories and gifts of those who left. 

On the other side of loss is forgiveness—for words unsaid, deeds undone, and grace not given. 

Parallel to pain is beauty—without pain, we cannot experience joy, happiness, contentment, nor peace. 

Perspective...

Physical loss is real, however the gifts that accompany that loss never leave us. We gain perspective. We grow appreciation. We soften over time as memories fade but feelings remain. We gain compassion and empathy, and are more likely to see others from a widened point of view.  

And, just as we are impermanent, so are our circumstances. There are other losses in my life right now. Changes at work and home, with friends and family. 

Change has many benefits... 

Impermanence serves us. We are not stuck. We can change how we think about our experience, change our response, and see our circumstances through a new lens.  

While loss of loved ones is truly one of the hardest things ever, I will always be grateful for change. Change is hopeful. Change is interesting, bringing meaning, substance and expansiveness from which we grow and learn. I wouldn't want to be the person I was in my youth, or even 20 years ago. Ugh! I am SO grateful for change. I have gained wisdom and experience that only comes with age and change. 

Good, bad, or otherwise, change happens, and our best option, for our highest and greatest good, is to find our way to peace with that. We must go through—there is no shortcut. If you're struggling with change, or the idea of impermanence, Buddhist sage Pema Chodron may be the preeminent authority and her foundation has many useful resources. 

Embrace what is...

We must embrace the anguish, the bittersweet experience that engulfs all loss. Mourn what was. Miss our loved ones. And trust that on the other side, life has its sweet rewards. There are still precious memories to make. Experiences to have. People to meet. I love yous to say. We will grow through loss, gain much, and love ourselves and each other that much more for it.  

Without impermanence, there would be no life.  


If you like this post, or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find me here.

Listen with your heart, not your ears

(Source: "the good quote")

A friend and I stopped for an appetizer after stocking up on produce at the local farmers market, and a comment she made about how I prioritized my time prompted a curt knee-jerk reaction from me. I caught myself and apologized, but this isn't the first time I reacted this way to her.

Knowing that our relationships are our greatest source of growth, that we humans are complicated, and that we all have blinders, I spent time journaling, had a sleepless night, and got more clear about why I react to her; this doesn't happen with anyone else.

We know what we know...

We think we know someone else's experience based on our own experience. But we don't, not really. We can attempt to walk in another's shoes, and empathy is essential, but we each have different reference points with different needs and desires.

I often say words matter, but I'll also add that tone, body language, and facial expressions also matter and are subject to interpretation.  

My friend has a way of being with me that taps into my self-doubt, where I question and judge myself. I actually felt judged. I felt unseen, disregarded. I felt mothered in a way that wasn't motherly. And I reacted defensively—only for a moment, but enough to change the dynamic.  

Relationships take two


I kept journaling, and a conversation with an 'intentional conversation' partner reminded me of The Four Agreements—one agreement is not taking anything personally, and another is don't make assumptions. 

I can't make this personal. If she is judging me, it's about her and not me. I know my friend isn't happy. Could it be that her unhappiness shows up in how she perceives me, how she interacts with me, and could be what I react to? Maybe. I won't assume, but it's worthy of consideration. 

My journal, and author Joe Dispenza's
Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself

And... all relationships take two. My responsibility is to consider how I hear, ask clarifying questions, and clear misconceptions. Instead of feeling judged and unseen by her words, I can listen differently. Just as we see from our own unique lens, we hear with our own unique filters, and our monkey mind then interprets. 

What did you mean when you said that? What made you think that? Do you want to know... why I feel that way... don't have time... what I'm doing? 

We learn about ourselves from each other

In the Landmark Forum, they describe a way of listening and perceiving as "already always listening"—those unconscious filters that define what we hear. I have an already always listening for my friend—and I realize it's been developing for a while. I'm not wrong when I say I feel unseen—so much has changed both for me and about me in recent years that she has no insight into, but if I care enough, it's my responsibility to speak up and be both seen and heard. I haven't done that. 

This also requires trust, and I'm not sure we have that right now.

So, I'm going to listen with my heart and not my ears, and do my part to use my voice and claim my space, and see what changes. I can also listen with love and compassion, knowing she's having a hard time and may have clouded vision. 

I don't want to react. No one has power over this but me. When we know better, we do better, said Maya Angelou. I hope I know better in the future.   

Is there anyone you have an already always listening for? Do you anticipate what someone will say or how they'll say it? Again, all relationships take two... It may be up to them to change what they say or how they talk, and up to you to speak up and listen differently.  


If you like this post, or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find me here. 

False Evidence Appearing Real

Tell the truth about your fears
and find room to blossom. 

Often on the way to work, if I'm not listening to a meditation or affirmation on Insight Timer, I'm listening to Ryan Niddel's 15 Minutes to Freedom podcast. How I found this guy is anyone's guess, but he's a pretty astute 35-year-old. Interestingly to me, as it tests my previous assumptions, I've found a few of these mid-30s high-EQ, self-aware men who are putting out some introspective, helpful content. I've mentioned Mark Manson's The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck in previous posts, to name another.  

A little dose of discomfort

Anyway, nothing like quickly getting comfortable being uncomfortable. 

Ryan's podcasts have compelled me to do a few things I'm surprised by, including today's Facebook Live videos within a group site he's facilitating. A week ago I signed up for 10 days of training through his Life Optimization coaching program—a special promotion and a deal at $20. What a great way to sample his coaching style without a big investment. Who wouldn't want to optimize their life? It starts Monday, but in typical Ryan fashion, there's some 'pre-work' to get you ready for the real work that's coming. Of course, the next two weeks promise to be my busiest at work yet. You know what they say, yes? If you want to get something done, ask a busy person. 

You can check Ryan out here. 

I bring this up because as mentioned, today I recorded not one but two Facebook Live videos—both videos on topics related to what I want from the 10-day program, as well as life overall. Video is totally out of my comfort zone; a Facebook Live video is over the top. I quite like being right here, typing away on my laptop. 

But you know what? I did it, and it wasn't so bad. And nothing bad happened as a result. I got a little more comfortable in my own skin, with expressing myself differently, with saying out loud a few things that are important to me. Go figure. 

Getting real about fear...

A few podcasts ago, I heard Ryan talk about fear, or rather, what I recall hearing was this awesome acronym I'd never heard before: False Evidence Appearing Real. 

I couldn't tell you the context of the podcast now. This brilliant acronym was my takeaway. No idea who coined it. Looking it up online results in a number of references  (none of which I've read yet, and may not). But it seems appropriate right now, as I think about how uncomfortable I was just thinking about doing those videos. 

Stay present

Think about it. Most of our fears never come true, whether about big things or small things (like Facebook videos...). They're based on what we think we might happen. And not just what might happen, but the worst that can happen. 

Yet, how often does anything really work out that way? How often are our worst fears realized? How often is the evidence we collect even really valid?  

Next time you feel fearful, nervous, or uncomfortable about something, think about it this way: it's almost certainly just false evidence. Maybe it feels real. But is it? I'm going to take my own advice here when I say 'don't fear the unknown,' as I have a lot of 'known unknowns' ahead. 

Staying present to where you are right now is key.  

Be bold...

Mark Twain said, "some of the worst things in my life never happened." He also said, "courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not the absence of fear." 

So let's not get stopped by fear. Go forth and be courageous, and remember that fear really just means false evidence trying to throw you off track. Once upon a time back when we got started as humans, fear kept us alive and well. To a degree, it can still keep us safe, but now it's overused. Don't let fear drive. Buckle it into the backseat, and go. 

Who was it that said "feel the fear and do it anyway"? Do that! I long ago told myself that when fear crept in, and I wanted to say no (because fear was driving), it was my queue to say yes. 

Onward! 

If you like this post, or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find out more here. 

Are you interested or committed? Why it matters...

When you commit wholeheartedly, nearly everything is possible.  

The multitude of lilac suckers
in my garden suggest they're
fully committed to thriving. 

Don't believe me? When you successfully achieve a goal you set for yourself, or realize a dream you have, how did you accomplish it? Were you committed to the result you wanted, or merely interested?  

There's a clear distinction between the two. 

Knowing the difference matters. 

Whatever you want to do in life, choose it, claim it, and then commit to it. If you're only interested, the odds of getting it aren't in your favor. If there's something you really want to experience, accomplish, or achieve, you must commit. 

Commitment = accomplishment...

Commitment means you will accomplish the goal you've set or the dream you desire because you'll do whatever it takes to make it happen, no matter how slow or how many obstacles show up to derail you. It's an investment of time, resources, energy... you're all in. 

For example, I'm interested in:

• Being more fit and exercising regularly so I have more energy 
• Improving my overall health by not eating sugary things
• Getting bad habits in check by re-doing a Whole30 reset
• Having greater resources in the bank by spending less and saving more

Am I doing what I must to achieve these? Partly. Recognizing as I write this, I've set goals and intentions, but clearly I'm not fully committed to doing all it takes to achieve them. There are too many shiny objects, too many squirrels, too many opportunities to eat badly and do things that don't align with what I say I want. I see progress, but based on my actions and choices, I won't get the result I want, especially in my desired time frame.


It's not willpower... 

Willpower doesn't apply. Willpower is one of those words that sends me running in the other direction, like diet, where suddenly I'm famished and want to eat anything I can, especially the things I usually say no to. 

Determination and discipline, along with clarity about what you really want, are what it takes to get what you want. If you don't think you're disciplined, think about a time you've really wanted something. What did you do? What actions did you take?  

Cherry blossoms add beauty,
and return year after year,
but they don't have the
tenacity of lilacs.

Knowing whether you're committed or interested will tell you what's really important to you. 

How to tell the difference? Notice how motivated you are to do the thing in front of you that leads toward the result you want. Sometimes we look too far ahead (it's not the mountains ahead, but the rocks in your shoe...), and it all feels too hard. You don't feel capable, or you don't have the resources you need. Maybe it suddenly feels impossible, and the voice in your head says you can't. Some of us are afraid of failing, some, of succeeding, because even success has risks. If you're commitment-phobic, that doesn't serve you. You can always change your mind if you come across new information, or replace the goal or dream with something better. 

Energy conspires in your favor... 

I've also come to believe this: Once one is committed, providence moves on your behalf.

Rightly or wrongly attributed to philosophical author Goethe, once you commit to something—fully commit—I'm certain you'll find evidence for this. 

Hindsight being 20/20, I have proved this to myself again and again, often when it comes to career choices. And whether you believe in providence, a higher power, ether, energy, meta- or quantum physics... something out there makes it true. 

You don't have to believe me. Test it. Fully commit, know it, feel it, visualize the result you want, and take the step you see in front of you. What's yours to do? If you don't know, trust it'll reveal itself and do what shows up. It may take some time, and there may be two steps forward and one step back, but I'm certain that when you look back at some point in the future, you'll see how things have opened up to help you get where you want to go.  

I think I first heard this in Landmark Education's The Forum a lifetime ago, when I and all my workmates did this crazy thing together in Vancouver. Three days in a room filled with rules seemed over the top, but having spent that time together and learned the things we learned, we accomplished more than we expected during a year-long project bringing music and tourism to British Columbia. It was intense, but it was fun, and this, and a number of other learnings from that time, stuck with me. 

Test it!

What do you want to achieve today? This week? This year? In your lifetime? Are you interested or are you committed? Try it today—what will you commit to just for today? Like they say in 12-step programs, just for today is a great place to start. Just for today, commit to one thing to test the result. Be sure you're committed, though, and not just interested. 

Here's one to try if you're stuck. Today, commit to loving yourself fully. What would that look like? Do you feed your body the fuel it needs to function or do you feed your emotions for comfort? What's the result? Do you get outside and get some air and walk for exercise? Are your actions aligned with your goals and desires? Do you do the things you say are important to you? At the end of the day, what do you want to be able to say you did, felt, experienced? Claim it, commit to it, and see what happens.  

If you like this post, or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find out more here.

10 years: On anniversaries, getting started, starting over, and now

Our garden path, today

This month marks 10 years since I first wrote in this space—full of hope, excitement, and commitment to this new journey of writing—and gardening. 

The beginning

Growing Things started as a gardening blog, when we launched a community garden in our yard through Urban Garden Share, an online matching service for gardeners and homeowners (you can read more about that in the 'about' sidebar). But it quickly became personal when, a few months later, my partner and I separated after 13 years together. 

That first year I wrote with fervid commitment—at first it was fun as we transformed the garden space, and then it became a place to share my challenges, my pain, to express, and be witnessed. The name "growing things" took on new meaning, and the garden became a metaphor. 

Backyard

After that, even though the garden thrived, the blog languished as work and life took over. Just over a year after separating, he and I got back together, and began putting the pieces of "us" together in a new, different, and ultimately better way. 

Starting over

With help from an extraordinary therapist, he and I learned to relate to each other differently, to talk with each other and hear each other while noticing and monitoring our own filters. We learned to call each other on our stuff, gently but clearly, and even laugh about it, too. We both learned we got in our own way, and it was the "I" in the relationship who could fix it, not the we. So we focused on ourselves, and became capable of moving forward independently and together—interdependent, as we learned to call it. 

In the years following that first year, I worked hard to find my voice, both here and in real life. To speak up, not withhold or wither, to know my worth, know my value. To understand that life just is, and continue to nurture new ways of thinking and being. I still struggle on occasion with these—with my own self-confidence and the limiting beliefs that linger in the background, threatening to unearth themselves and derail me. 

But overall, I wouldn't trade any of these experiences. I've learned to be comfortable being uncomfortable, to be more brave, and that without challenges and pain, my life would be very different, and far less satisfying. 

Recommitting

Together and separately, we have dreams, goals, and ideas, respect how each other interacts with the world, and know we both act with our best interests in mind—no longer in our own way, or that of each other. 

Early years

Since this online journal came to be, he's traveled the world by ship, I've had a couple different jobs, and thanks to life's constant insistence that we grow and not get complacent, we've had many opportunities to further our inward journeys. 

To say it's occasionally been a slog, well, yes. Yes it has. Nothing seems to move at the pace we'd prefer. We've had countless bumps, hills, roadblocks, potholes, and the occasional crater slow us down. His recent work injury is the latest crater, with a 9 - 18 month healing window and an inability to do much with his right arm due to intense shoulder pain. A few years ago, I was laid off when my employer re-organized and I nosedived into a confidence crisis. A few years earlier, he took a circuitous route to a career change that required more learning and growing. And within those 10 years, our three precious furkids all took turns going over the rainbow bridge and for the first time, we are without cats. 

"In the shade of the old apple tree,
there's a place just for you and for me... "

And here we are, 10 years later. I'm still writing. We're stronger together. The garden continued until two years ago, when we ended the relationship with the current garden partners and made plans to sell the property. That's one of those slow parts—two years later, the city is still backlogged and we haven't moved forward. While my heart will ache when we finally say goodbye—I have often said I'd miss the Gravenstein more than I'd miss the house I live in, the tree and the property require more time, money, and resources than I can give them. It's more complicated than I'll go into here, but the house and garden are on separate lots, and given circumstances, keeping the house makes more sense than keeping the garden. 

While I'd love to kick things into higher gear—his healing, his work goals, the property sale, my developing career and personal goals, travel plans—there's not much I'd change. I know that through pain, we grow, and without it, we wouldn't have joy. 

We have a lot of joy in our lives, and much to be grateful for—good friends both near and far, a warm and (mostly) comfortable home, nourishing food, overall health, our careers (and my job), cars that get us where we're going, and plenty of resources and tools when we need them. We've even hung onto some of those earliest gardeners who became our friends, and I'm so grateful they continue on this journey with us. 

Lush life: first year with Urban Garden Share.  Shiv, 
our neighbor, often sang mantras to the plants, saying it 
helped them grow. Together, we created something amazing.  

This year I recommitted to writing and for the most part, I've penned my thoughts about once a week. Some posts take longer than others, or morph in an unexpected direction, so which day they publish isn't guaranteed. But I have a lot more to say and share, hopefully with insights that help those who join me here. Stay tuned. 

If you like this post, or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find out more here.

Doing the hard things

In my last post, I quoted Soulful Simplicity about doing the things you don't want to do, so you can do the things you want to do later on. As a coach and follower of coaches, self-help authors, and wellness types, I'm seeing a lot right now about how we have to do the hard things.

I wish I'd had that mindset when I was younger. 

Don't get me wrong. Life was hard, so in that sense, I did hard things. Throughout my teens and early adulthood, life was very hard. A high school friend has long said we went to "handle it school" because if we learned nothing else, we learned to handle almost anything -- any crisis or problem -- growing up in our neighborhood. But those aren't the type of hard things, nor the mindset, I'm referring to. Many hard-learned lessons later, I realize that while I didn't grow up in ideal circumstances, I also made my life much harder by getting in my own way. 

How do you know if you're in your own way?  

When you feel like nothing's working, or if where you're headed isn't where you want to go, you might be getting in your own way. If you find yourself always struggling, or consistently unhappy.

How did we get here? We may not know any better, especially when we're young. We're products of our environment and our experience, and even our DNA, and if you're like me and didn't have many good role models, it takes a while to figure it out.

So much of what we experience is mindset--a concept that can be challenging to understand. Because at my core I believed life was hard, I (unknowingly) looked for evidence in every circumstance to support my belief. And because I believed life was hard, I looked for and drew to me circumstances that made life harder than it had to be. I'm not saying that many of the bad and sad things that happened during my early years were my fault -- by no means was I responsible for predatory men, belittling teachers, absent adults, and bullies and friends more fucked up than me. But because of my beliefs, which included what I felt I deserved, I put myself in a lot of situations that could only result in harm or hardship. 

Even though I intellectually understood some of this in my twenties, having learned a bit about 'new thought' philosophies, creative visualization, quantum physics and energy, etc., those early beliefs by then were buried deep in my bones and drove much of my experience, running below the surface of everything I did. Not until yet another devastating circumstance presented itself did I finally break free. 

A wise therapist helped me shift my thinking. Among other things, she asked if I believed life was hard, and when I said yes, she asked, "what if life just is?" What if the universe, or whatever you believe in, is neutral, and your circumstances are a reflection of what you believe? 

I'd have done a whole lot of things differently. 

I used to think I wanted life to be easy. Growing up, I thought life was supposed to be easy and was always astonished when it wasn't. Because I was so afraid of failing, of looking stupid, because everything seemed hard, I regularly chose the path of least resistance, or what felt like the easiest way. Except it wasn't ever easy, and in fact, that mindset made everything much harder. I was an intentional underachiever because so much felt too hard and I was scared.

But looking back at my accomplishments, the greatest satisfaction came as a result of hard work - - from effort made, energy expended, challenges accepted... sometimes involving strife or heartache or walking through fear, and almost always learning something new or different.

Although not aware while doing these things, I did a lot of hard-for-me things over time, without really thinking about how hard they'd be.

Some of my hard things? Honestly, I don't think I expected to live a long life, so I didn't take particularly good care of myself when I was young. I smoked and abused myself during my teen years, but decisively stopped all that when I realized I was going to be around a while and wanted a better life. I watched my mom and other family members succumb to illness, and deliberately made choices like eating better and exercising that support a healthier life. I determinedly put myself through college when it seemed nearly impossible. I wanted a career that included writing, so I carefully and mindfully carved out a path. I wanted a different result when a relationship nearly ended so I went to therapy and uncovered those deeply held beliefs -- and made a conscious effort to change them.

In hindsight, these were the hard things I had to do for a better life later, although at the time, I wasn't aware of that mindset.   

We can do the hard things. Sometimes it's just saying no to a second helping (noticing my own patterns), or starting an exercise program by moving your body 10 minutes every morning, or unlearning an unhealthy behavior. Sometimes it's calling an estranged relative or friend, setting aside a need to "be right" and instead choosing the relationship, or setting boundaries with someone who crosses them. Sometimes it's much harder, like forgiving yourself or someone who harmed you, or being compassionate with yourself, or finding gratitude for just one thing each day. 

Do the small things every day,
and they'll lead to big things. 

If you want something, be intentional. If it feels hard, start small. And know that if it feels hard, it's probably worth it. Get clear about your priorities, then map out a plan. Create daily routines or rituals and then methodically take the steps -- every day -- that lead you there.  

Sometimes I still hope for luck. But experience tells me that luck comes to those who do the work. My mom, not a religious woman by any stretch, always said that "god helps those who help themselves."  

I don't know about you, but if I'm going to grow old, and I hope to, I want to be healthy, and able-bodied, with the means to afford a decent life. While I know there are many circumstances over which I have no control, I can make choices that, should I get to grow old, increase my odds of enjoying those later years more than I enjoyed my younger years. Most days, I can do the hard things. 

I don't think we all need luxury homes and and exotic cars -- although if that's your jam, then by all means, work to create it. That said, I believe I deserve a life with "better problems", as author Mark Manson refers to them in The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck. I think we all do.

So if you're in your own way like I was, take steps every day to create the life you want, even if it feels hard. Work toward having better problems. I no longer believe life is hard, even though some things feel hard.

Remember that saying, "Life's what you make it"? For the vast majority of us who are of sound mind, that's pretty much it.  

Life just is. 

Fine tuning, not improving

The self-help and self-improvement industries rake in money hand over fist, but lately the conversation about "improving" ourselves seems to be shifting. Good. Let's stop. Helping ourselves? Sure. Improving? Not so much.

As a coach, I see my clients as whole, complete, creative, and resourceful, and in 'new thought' spiritual teachings, we're all perfect as we are. What we consider "imperfections" are those unique character traits that make us different and special.


So--what if we just need fine tuning? 


Honestly, there's nothing wrong with us. Not really. We're human, and we're all different.

That doesn't mean we can't improve or develop skills, become better versions of ourselves, that we don't have more to learn, or explore whatever we're intrigued by. But that's not us.

We may see others as having something wrong with them, because they think differently, do differently, or believe differently than we do. But that doesn't mean it's true. And it doesn't mean they need improving, no matter how much we disagree with them.

Improving implies the need to fix, 

and fixing implies that something's broken. 

Bones break (those can be fixed...). Parts of us break down. Sometimes we say "I'm broken" to emphasize a point. Our hearts break, our spirit breaks. But most of us aren't actually broken. Being in pain isn't broken; it's a very real and important part of living. There's always possibility for something to be different, even when it feels impossible and we can't see it. We may have a belief to let go of or an old story still dictating our behaviors, but to shift these, we reprogram, unlearn, or create, not fix.

Maybe it's years of being advertised to that's turned me off to the word improved, with the endless introduction of new and improved versions of almost anything on our large and small screens, on supermarket shelves, and in our online shopping carts. Or maybe it's the underlying message that if you're working to improve yourself, you're not good enough as you are.

We don't need to be fixed. 

And telling ourselves that we do, reinforced by the words self-improvement, isn't very helpful, whether it comes from inside our heads as self-talk or from somewhere else.

We may have a few cracks, perhaps, like Japanese pottery. If that's the case, let's add some figurative gold filigree, and be a different, more complex version of ourselves. Let it change us in ways that embolden us and make us even more unique. Perfect as it was; perfect as it is. Who says a perceived imperfection isn't really perfect? It's all perception, right?

Who defines perfect in your world? 

As Leonard Cohen sang, the cracks are where the light shines through. We need those cracks, those things that set us apart from anyone else. Those cracks are like our emotional fingerprints, and they make us interesting.

I, for one, am sick of "improving" myself, something I spent my younger years doing because I never felt good enough; I often felt less than. We all have "stuff" we can work on. But improvement is a self-defeating concept. Embrace your idiosyncrasies, gain mastery over those things you're passionate about, and shed the old crap that holds you back. That's not "improvement" unless you want to define it that way. But I think there's a better description. The need to improve feels like we're motivated by something outside of us, like something we should do, not something we do because we want to-- something that comes from within.

I believe, over time, we become more of who we are, and who we're meant to be...

Ancient Gravenstein, continually
evolving to be more of what it's
meant to be.

...and as we age, in particular, and grow in experience, we gain a deeper confidence and wisdom, which also brings the gift of self-acceptance, with our perfect imperfection.

As we step more firmly into our own shoes (in my case, some might say many pairs.... but that's an aside), love--and like--yourself as you are. That doesn't mean you won't have things you want to change. But become that "more of" version. Evolve your language and use words that make you feel good. Continually fine tune, grow, and adapt. This is what makes life's challenges, hurdles, and joys far more fascinating and easier to maneuver. 

How much more can we give the world if we feel good about who we already are? How much more exciting is it to focus on something we want to do, explore, or learn, rather than doing something to improve ourselves?

Let's be part of that shifting conversation.