a life, borrowed

A long, long time ago I was a girl scout. I actually don't remember much about being a girl scout except for two things. The first was the little round badges I wanted to accumulate because those things were like status symbols.


The second was something I learned about borrowing. Our troop leader told us that when you borrowed something, you should not just return it to its lender in its original condition, but in even better condition. This, she said, would be a great way to show your appreciation to the person who lent you something. Say, for example, a classmate lent you her half-dull pencil because you forgot yours. You wouldn't just return the pencil to her sans bite marks, but would return it completely sharpened.

This really stuck with me for years. I borrowed stuff from people all the time and always tried to return things in better condition than which they were lent to me. Then once day, not too long ago, I realized that nothing I thought I owned was really mine. I realized that I was, in fact, borrowing everything.

This shift in perception started when I wrote an article on Vipassana meditation for a local periodical. In the article, I explained to readers that it is against the practice of Vipassana for a meditator to contribute anything to a dhamma center (even though they provide 10 days of lodging, food and instruction) until the meditator completes a course. After a meditator completes a 10-day course, they can give a donation if they feel the meditation was beneficial. That donation will be used to provide food and lodging and instruction for a future meditator. I find this to be a beautiful way to run a dhamma center. It's really like living a monk's or a nun's life when you take a Vipassana course. Everything given to you during a course is because of the charity of someone else.

It also makes sense to run things like this when you are teaching people to dissolve their egos. When we get attached to the idea of something being "ours" or belonging to the self, a whole bunch of ego subconsciously gets wrapped up in our actions. Suddenly, we have to defend what is "ours." We have to fight for it or demand something on its behalf. Or we start to believe that we can do what we'd like with it, because it belongs to us.

I became absolutely intrigued by this idea of life as charity so I spent one entire day pretending as if nothing was mine and I was borrowing everything. The bed I slept in? Not mine, so I was grateful I had it when I woke up. The food in the fridge? Not mine, so I really enjoyed eating it and made sure to clean up the kitchen I was "borrowing" better than I normally would have.

The man I live with and usually call "my husband?" On that day I pretended he was not mine. It was like the first day we met-fresh and new and I fell in love with him all over again. I didn't expect him to do anything for me. When he did, I was surprised and delighted. The clients I coached? Not mine and I no longer concerned myself with their progress or lack thereof. In fact, a sacred reverence came into each session. Even this body was not mine. I noticed with this paradigm shift an absence of a self-critical monologue. There was just no need to say anything bad about a vehicle I was borrowing to have the experience of a human existence.

The day when I realized nothing was mine was the beginning of a new life.

Not only was there an increased sense of gratitude and reverence, there was also the responsibility to leave things I was borrowing better than I found them. Every person I interacted with became someone I was borrowing for that moment in time. If they seemed sad, I tried to cheer them up. If they seemed stressed, I tried to make them laugh. If they needed to talk, I listened. I tried to leave them better than I found them. Everything in my life was something I was borrowing while I was alive.

The public bathroom? I made sure to clean off the borrowed sink. The trash in the parking lot? I picked it up. The mother with four kids and a cart full of groceries? I helped her get to her car. All of this happened naturally when I realized everything was borrowed. It didn't have the weight of something "I should do" to be a good Samaritan. It just flowed naturally.

Perhaps at some time in the future, I will get to a place where I can let go of the concept of anything being "mine" for longer than one day. The ego seems like nothing more than a prison. The more I grow as a person, the more obvious it becomes that to live in a world where so much is "mine" feels like carrying a heavy, iron burden. I will try to consistently remind myself that everything I have is actually borrowed. It really does feel a lot more free.

The Power of No

Just when I thought I was over my people-pleasing habits forever, I am humbled by the constant vigilance it requires for me to learn the power of the word no.

The other day a client asked me if she could schedule a 5:30 appointment. Granted, my hours are 9-5 and I generally reserve the latter part of my work day for behind-the-scenes coaching work (such as writing my blog and writing workbooks) because I do my best one-on-one work in the morning. By the time 3 rolls around I'm ready for the kind of silent solitary time that writing requires. Yet when this client asked for 5:30 I said Sure! as if I couldn't imagine anything else I'd rather be doing.

Why do I do this? Why, in fact, do WE women constantly agree to things we don't want to do? I'm pretty sure it has a lot to do with social conditioning (just watching the amazingly different way my partner G. responds to requests baffles me) but let's put the psychoanalytical theories to the side for now and focus on a solution. How can we say no, especially when the request is from a dear friend or family member whom we hate to disappoint?

I don't think it was just a coincidence that led me to find an interesting book yesterday entitled The Book of No: 250 Ways to Say It and Mean It. Susan Newman, a social psychologist, gives the reader many different examples (250 to be exact) of how one can say no in different social situations. I love how she gives a script of saying "no" in such a matter-of-fact way for so many different scenarios. Even if you're tempted to say yes because the request is from a close family member or your best friend or your boss, this book shows you how to approach the person with diplomacy and tact and yet still uphold your personal boundaries.

This book could not have come into my life at a better time. G and I are planning a small wedding for our friends and family this October. Many people cannot travel to India for our August wedding and we wanted to share our marriage with the people who mean the most to us. We're footing the bill and we're having the wedding in the same city where we live. And yet my dear mother cannot help but remind me that I've left some important people off of the guest list. (Cousins and aunts whom I've met once, or not at all, or whom I really don't like, and who certainly don't fit into the category of "our closest friends and family.")

When I stood my ground and said "no" she again tried to manipulate me into saying "yes" by saying that a lot of people whom we've invited probably won't come because of the travel involved. "At least these people live closer and might show up" was her argument.

First, I found myself beginning to panic. What if no one shows up to this wedding that we've worked so hard to plan? What if I have to walk down the aisle and say my vows to an empty-chaired audience?

But then my trusty body compass came back into the picture. I realized that the fearful voice flashing images of me alone with my husband on my wedding day was just my lizard, Blanche. I also realized when I checked in with my body compass, inviting the people my mother suggested just felt icky. And I wanted to feel good about every single person we sent invitations to. "You know, if very few people show up, that will be okay," I heard a calm me saying into the phone. "What's most important is that we only include the people we feel really know us well and will truly support our marriage."

Suddenly it seemed as if the word "no" wasn't so hard after all. In fact, it felt as if it was my own personal guard of my boundaries. Being able to say it, even when I was challenged, felt like I was really respecting myself. Here are some gems from this book I wanted to share with you:

-If you don't immediately feel like saying "yes" then this request probably deserves a "no."

-Train yourself to immediately think "no" before you respond to any type of request. Even if you initally say "no" to something you don't mind doing for someone else, you can always change your answer.

-Pause before you ever answer a request. Even just having a few seconds of time will give your brain and body time to process whether or not you want to do what is being asked of you.

Some scenarios I love: (I've modified them from the book; the book actually provides a lot of details for each scenario possible)

1.

Request: "You have such a great eye, mathematical finesse, writing ability, etc. Can you help me with this project?"

Response: "Wish I could, but I can't."

2.

Request: "I have two tickets for the opening of the new play at the Graham-Bell Theatre." (and you happen to hate plays)

Response: "Thank you. It was so thoughtful of you to invite me. I really prefer movies. Maybe

Ali or Seth would like to go."

3.

Request: "I know it's short notice but will you babysit for us over the weekend?"

Response: "I can't this weekend. I'm always delighted to take the children but I need to have a bit of advanced notice."

4.

Request (from a child): "It's not fair. I want to go to bed when Katie does. It doesn't matter if she's older than me!"

Response: "No. You need the extra sleep to help you grow. When you are Katie's age, you can stay up later."

5.

Request: "Mom and Dad, will you give me money for the down payment on a house?"

Response: "No, we aren't paying your down payment."

6.

Request (from your boss): "This mailing is huge and has to go out by the end of the day. Will you stuff envelopes during lunch?"

Response: "No, I can't do that today."

7.

Request: "I'm thinking about starting a sign-in and sign-out system for middle managers and support staff. You'll have to tell your group."

Response: "The people who work for me don't need to be monitored. They're professionals; they don't need a mother."

Learning to say "no" is an important step on the path to maturity and self-respect. However, it takes some practice, especially if you're like most women and have been trained to please others and put them before yourself. When you learn to say "no" you learn how to take your time (and essentially your life) back. Be prepared to be challenged and to be guilt-tripped when you learn to used the sacred word "no". Be prepared (especially if you're the people-pleasing type) for others to be shocked and initially upset when you turn down requests. Remember, however, that they'll get over it. And at the end of the day, you'll be liberated.

forever let the sun shine on

Last week, I spent eight days volunteering at one of my favorite places in the world-Camp Sunshine. Although each summer has been great, I would have to say that this year was truly remarkable.

Camp Sunshine is a week-long camp for kids who either have or had cancer. At first read that probably sounds quite depressing. When an acquaintance told me about it several years ago, my first reaction was-That sounds so sad! (Even though I am a kid cancer survivor myself). But Camp Sunshine is not sad.

Camp Sunshine is one of the happiest and most inspiring places I've ever been to. I won't try to capture this camp in words because quite frankly, it's beyond description. You can look at the pictures, you can read the website, you can talk to the volunteers, but nothing can explain the immense love and acceptance that radiates here.

Imagine a teenage girl with a brain tumor, (a huge scar running down the back of her bald head) receiving chemo during the week and still climbing up a ladder high into the air to zip line-exhilarated-down over a trail in a deer-filled forest. That is just a small sense of the amazing power of possibility and love that I get to experience here each summer.

There is something else I get to experience here as well-a break from my busy life. For one week I do not use my cell phone or check my email or really have any contact with anyone outside of camp. Me and another counselor chaperone a cabin full of teenage girls out in a beautiful forest by two lakes. We have meals in the cafeteria together, complete activity-filled days, eat way too much junk food and have some really great bonding time in the evenings. There is always a lot of busy excitement during the week of camp. But there are some quiet times too, times where I got to just be still. Times where I watched the reflection of the sun on the lake sparkle so brilliantly I had to shade my eyes from those lake diamonds. Times where I sat by the pool, listening to the sound of kids laughing and splashing down a water slide. Times when I felt clay smoosh between my fingers as my girls spent an hour making ceramic pots on a wheel.

There were so many times this past week when I just got to feel myself breathing.

When I do a quick scan of my life the past few months, I realize that there have not been many of these. Times to just breathe I mean. I am preparing for two different weddings on two different continents. I am launching a marketing campaign for my business in the fall. I am coaching and networking and emailing and talking on the phone a lot and when I'm not doing any of these things, I'm reading.

Before camp, I can't remember the last time I just sat still to languish in doing nothing. I can't remember the last time I consciously felt how good it was just to inhale--breathe in and exhale--breathe out. Can you?




If you're like many of us crazy busy Americans, you too may have forgotten the importance of taking time each day to just do nothing. When was the last time you just relished in watching the sunset over a cluster of evergreens or gave yourself over, completely unrushed, to a conversation with a child?

These are the moments that feed our soul. These are the moments worth being alive for.

This week, I want you to start practicing the art of doing nothing. I'm not talking anything big here (my schedule won't let me swing hours of doing nothing either); I'm talking 15 or 20 minutes. Just find a peaceful space where you won't be interrupted, set a timer for 15 minutes and do nothing. When your thoughts appear, just notice them as you would a small child running past you to get ice cream.

Don't answer your email and make sure to turn off your phones. Don't twitter, update your facebook status to "meditating" or talk to anyone. Just BE. Sit there and feel yourself breathing. Sit there and remember that you are a spiritual being borrowing a human body on planet earth. Sit there and remember what it feels like to be still.

Many people, when advised to do something like this, feel as if it may be a waste of time. With so many things crammed into our schedules, 15 minutes seems like a huge chunk of time to give to doing "nothing." Some may be tempted to think of this as overindulgent or just plain lazy. None of this is actually true. Learning to just be is a sacred reminder of the importance of our presence in the present. If you begin to cultivate this habit every day, what you will begin to notice is that your "doing" periods are radically enhanced by your "just being" periods. Ironically taking time to do nothing results in more efficient doing.

We sing a lot at Camp Sunshine, after every meal actually. I have a lot of great songs I like to belt out with the campers after eating too much macaroni and cheese. The title of this blog is a line from one of my favorite Camp Sunshine songs and I'd like it to be my own personal reminder of how I'd like to live the next year of my life. I hope that this year, I will remember to take time to be still everyday. I want to remain grateful for this amazing life that I have been given. I want to reflect on the small, beautiful moments happening all around me. I want to continue to rejoice to the melody of simply being here.*

*I cannot take credit for this last beautiful and well-written line. It comes from a camper's poem that was published in the Daily Sunshine (Camp Sunshine's daily newspaper). If I receive her permission, I will share her entire poem with you.

How I know that prayers are heard

I have not shared this story with anyone until last week and even then, only two people. A couple of us were discussing the effectiveness of sending someone positive energy. Then we started talking about prayer and suddenly I remembered something from a few years ago. It was such a pivotal point in my life and things really changed after it occurred. I cannot believe that I forgot it. Perhaps now is the best time to share it, then. This is a story of faith. This is the story of how I know for sure that prayers are heard.

I've devoted this entire blog to discussing the change process-what to expect as you are going through different stages of change, what you can do to smooth the transition and follow your heart. I've also included some practical tools you can use as you progress. What I have not talked about yet is the ephemeral part of any journey. What I have forgot to tell you about is faith.

People define faith in different ways. For some, it has very strong religious connotations. For others, it implies a sense of naivete (as in "blind faith"). But for me faith is this: trusting what your soul tells you-even if it does not make sense on a logical level, even if everybody around you doesn't understand.

So here it is. Several years ago, I spent a week in Oregon during my spring break. I had wanted to go on a hiking/outdoors vacation and a friend told me I'd probably enjoy the wilderness of Oregon. I was in one of those horrible emotional places in a human life. My heart was newly broken. I was tired of my job. I flew to Oregon in April and fell in love with the big redwoods in the mountains and the Pacific Ocean and the funky cool vibe of Portland. When the week was over, I came back to Atlanta thinking that one day, far into the future, I would make Oregon my home. The days slugged by, still heavy with my sadness and one day, several weeks later, as I was walking near a creek I suddenly realized that I needed to go. As soon as possible.

I gave away all of my stuff and I packed up my car with books and some clothes and I drove to Oregon. I had no friends or family there. No job. I didn't know where I was going to live. I did not know my way around. My soul said-This is what you need to do. So I did it. Not because I was full of faith, not at all. But because my life had fallen apart and I felt I had nothing else to lose. There is nothing like being completely devastated to bring one humbly to one's knees and to convince someone to finally surrender.

Almost everyone told me that I was crazy. Two very special healers of mine did not, but the rest did. They said-The job market there sucks, you will not find a job. You will use up all of your savings. You don't know anyone. You will be lonely. You are a woman driving across the country alone and something bad will happen to you.

But like I said, my soul said go. So I went.

The days leading up to my departure were nothing short of magical. Nothing could stop me from doing what I realized I needed to do. My mom was freaking out. My friends were stunned. My roommates were helping me put things in bags to take to the Goodwill and simultaneously asking me if I was sure I was making the right decision. It was amazing how many people thought I was a making a huge mistake. I had no doubt this is what I was supposed to do. It was as if a solid rope of light was pulling me from my heart to the Pacific Northwest. At the time, I did not know what this feeling was; it was the first time I had experienced such a profound sensation. Now, a little bit older and wiser, I've recognized its source. It is the way my soul tells me what I should do next. It is, what I now call, the God-pull.

I got to Oregon. I spent several weeks hiking and crying and sleeping. I went to the ocean, I went to the mountains. I wrote in my journal. Then one day I realized I needed a job and so I began searching. I wasn't looking for much, just something different from what I had done before, something that would allow me to pay the rent and eat. And yes, it was hard. No one would hire me. Then my ex-boyfriend sent me birthday presents and told me how much he loved and missed me. Friends were saying-come home, come home. My mom would call me each week, asking me if I finished writing my book so I could return to normal life. The truth was, I had not written anything worth publishing and months had gone by. I watched my savings dwindle until I realized that soon I would have nothing left. I began to doubt what I had done. For the first time, I thought that perhaps I had made a horrible mistake.

I flew back to Atlanta to visit the two healers who had encouraged me to follow my soul to Oregon. One of them, the one I refer to as my surrogate older brother, reminded me of my worth. He seemed so sure of me, of something special inside me, as he always has. My other healer had been going through a hard time himself. I wasn't sure I should see him, with my unbelievable sadness, when he, himself, was going through such a difficult time. But I was desperate for some answers, for some relief from the almost unbearable self-doubt that had begun to devour me.

Before I went to him, I said a silent prayer that went something like this: Dear God-when I get to the place in my healing where things get really rough, don't let J. feel it. He is already going through enough. Just have him hold my hand while I cry out all of my sadness and self-doubt.

I went for my my healing. In the middle of it, as I began to purge the deepest sadness from inside my heart, J. stopped, hesitated, seemed a little confused, and then sat down and held my hand. I cried until my heart felt clean.

I'm not sure where our prayers go once they are said. Are they an energy we send out to the universe? Are they a way we connect with our soul? Is there a God who listens to them? Of course I can't answer these questions. However, I can say for certain that they are heard because of what happened on the day I came back to visit J. for a healing.

I returned to Oregon the next day knowing I was heard by the universe. I found a job one month later and spent a wonderful year in the Pacific Northwest. A year of healing, hiking, writing and growing.

In any journey, no matter how strong your convictions or your God-pull, at some point you will probably doubt yourself. You will wonder if you have made a mistake, if you've made the right decision, if you're good enough. You will begin to lose some faith. When this happens, remember it is okay to jump. A net will appear. Remember that you are not alone. And no matter what your spiritual views, you may want to say a little prayer. Trust me, someone is listening.

Healthy Boundaries

The other day I was at the gym, watching a show on Vh1. I'm not a big fan of reality tv but I was attempting to climb a mountain on the elliptical machine and I just didn't have the energy to change the channel. Now most reality shows, from what I can gather, are about as far from real life as one could get. This one, however, seemed different.

I caught the show somewhere in the middle so I don't know all of the details but from what I could gather, a woman was attempting to set some boundaries with her son's father. "Today I am going to tell him that he needs to take my son for the weekend," she said. "But this is going to be very hard for me. I've never done this before, even though it's what we had agreed upon. I'm just not used to setting any kind of boundaries with him. With anyone for that matter. "Aha!" I thought. "Even reality show characters have problems with setting boundaries." Then I hit another difficult incline and forgot all about this poor woman until I sat down to write today's post.

Let's face it. A lot of us have problems setting boundaries with certain people in our lives. In fact, as I scroll through a mental list of all of the women I know, EVERY ONE of them has told me, at some point, that they struggle with setting boundaries with at least one person. We want to be perceived as nice and helpful. We want people to like us. We want the people we love to know that we are there for them. And of course all of this goes utterly wrong when we start to let others cross that sacred line that divides our true selves from our obligatory ones.

In my previous entry, I discussed the difference between being compassionate and being a doormat. In her amazing book on personal healing entitled Light Emerging, author Barbara Brennan discusses the differences between positive relationships and negative ones:

Healthy positive relationships are interdependent and have clearly established contracts of honesty, support and caring. In them there is plenty of room for freedom, creativity and self-expression as well as healthy care and concern for each other. On the other hand, unhealthy relationships are created through negative, unhealthy "contracts" that limit, trap, use, control and even intimidate the people in them. They block creativity, personal expression and interfere with the natural personal growth of each person involved.

Brennan goes on to state that these negative relationships are actually the result of negative "contracts"-or unspoken agreements-that we have gotten ourselves into. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. The friend who is always late, even to appointments when timelieness is needed? The family member who borrows money from you and never pays you back? You don't say anything to them because of a negative contract. Somewhere along the line you agreed not to say anything. Not out loud of course, maybe not even consciously. But somewhere inside of you, at some point in time, you registered that this behavior bothered you and then decided that you weren't going to say anything about it. That is a negative contract. According to Brennan, the only way to get out of a negative contract is to break it.

If you begin to examine, honestly and openly, why you've created a negative contract, if you begin to truly look at your intentions, what you will find is a need to be approved of and loved. For example, perhaps you have a problem standing up to your mom. When you call her, she criticizes you and you don't speak up on your own behalf. Ask yourself why. Are you afraid if you did she would get angry? Hang up on you? Never speak to you again? And what if she did one or even all of these actions, what would that ulitmately mean? That she did not love you?

If you look deep enough, what you will realize is that underneath every negative contract is a fear of not being accepted and not being loved. Ironically what happens when we participate in negative contracts is that we never get the kind of acceptance and love we are looking for because when we allow others to violate our boundaries, we will not feel accepted and loved by them. In addition, we will not feel as if we love or accept ourselves either, because we are not standing up for ourselves. A negative contract serves no one, not even the other person whom you think you are helping by continuing your participation in it. If you have any negative contracts in your life, I would highly encourage you to break them. The payoff for breaking a negative contract is very rewarding, even if it seems very scary and daunting to do so at first.

There are two steps to breaking a negative contract. The first step is to become aware that it exists and to raise your awareness of the negative effects it has on your life. The second step is to gather up enough courage to do that which you are most afraid to do in regards to the negative contract- to do what you must do in order to break it. If you've thought of someone with whom you have a negative contract, it's time to dissolve it. As long as you have a negative contract with anyone, you will stifle your true self, your creativity and your deepest love. Don't you think you deserve a happy and solid life? Don't you deserve honest, fulfilling relationships with others? Those negative contracts need to be broken!

In this post, I've included two charts, complete with examples and written explanations so that you can understand how to complete them. I've included an example from Gary, a man who believes he has to give his mother excessive caretaking in order to be loved by her. (This is an example from Brennan's book). The explanation will walk you through how Gary filled out both of the charts and will give you information on his story. I have also included my own personal example chart as well.

The first chart is designed to help you raise your awareness of why are participating in the negative contract and how the contract is negatively affecting your life. As you go through and fill out your own chart (after looking at the examples), be compassionate with yourself. There is an innocence here, a deep innocence that we all participate in because we want to be loved and accepted, that led you to create this contract in the first place. Now that you've grown into more self-awareness, it is time to break it. The second chart will walk you through the process of breaking it and will ask you to reflect on the benefits this action has on your life.

As you go through these exercises, there need not be any self-judgment on how long you've participated in the contract or how bad you've let things get. The essential and most important part of this exercise is making the decision and mustering up the bravery to leave behind what no longer serves you.

The following documents and charts are taken from one of my 12 week programs entitled Project Confidence.

Step One: Awareness of Negative Contract and Its Effects. Examples and charts here.

Step Two: Breaking the Negative Contract and forming a Positive Contract. Examples and charts here.

Good luck with the task ahead. Once you break the negative contract, go out and do something very nice for yourself. It's not easy to conjure up the courage to do this and you deserve some very big congratulations.

When compassion goes awry

From the time we are very little girls, we women have been taught to "be nice." It's something our parents told us, our teachers told us and even strangers told us to do. In addition to the social conditioning most women receive, most of us are on some kind of conscious spiritual path. Whether you attend a church or temple, meditate regularly or go to your weekly yoga class, most of us participate in some kind of belief system that is intended to better ourselves. And one of the most essential aspects of any spiritual belief system is being kind to others.


We adopt these attitudes of being nice and being kind and we work actively to cultivate compassion because we believe that is what good people do. This is how great humanitarian works are erected and this is the foundation from which many esteemed social activists operate. Kindness and compassion are essential not only to our own happiness but to the betterment of the world.

However, what I'm noticing in several clients, and what's become more and more clear to me as I grow, is that many of us take compassion too far. We don't have solid boundaries when it comes to kindness; we don't know when and how to say "no" and we use our spiritual paths as an excuse for allowing others to take advantage of us. In our quests to be nice to everyone, we forget to be nice to ourselves.

Pema Chodron, one of my favorite Buddhist nuns and spiritual teachers, calls this inability to set healthy boundaries Idiot Compassion. I sometimes suffer from Idiot Compassion, or at least I did until I became aware of it recently. Perhaps you do too. Idiot Compassion is, quite simply, enabling another person to be mean or violent or disrespectful towards you out of a skewed definition that the person needs your compassion more than they need your boundaries.

An extreme example of Idiot Compassion would be the woman who stays friends with the alcoholic who lies to her and manipulates her, believing if she left her friend's side that friend would crumble. Or the woman who continuously allows her husband to scream at her and berate her and then excuses his behavior by saying that he's just had a hard week at work. There are subtle examples too. The friend who always shows up late, even when promptness is a necessity, but you don't say anything because you know how busy his life is. The person who calls you with an "emergency" when she knows you've got an important deadline, but you want to be a good friend so you let her take up your afternoon with her drama (and isn't this her third emergency of the month?) The brother who "borrows" money from you and then never pays you back but you decide not to say anything because you know how broke he is.

These are all examples of Idiot Compassion. I'm sure you can think of more.

There are two distinct ways to tell real compassion from Idiot Compassion.

1. Real compassion feels good. It makes you feel free and helpful and full of purpose. (Like helping your elderly neighbor carry her groceries into her house). Idiot Compassion does not feel good. It feels subtly defeating, like something is being taken from you.

2. Real compassion, upon reflection, makes you feel uplifted and joyful. Idiot Compassion, upon reflection, makes you feel like you should make an excuse about why you are allowing the bad behavior. Real compassion doesn't need any kind of explanation; Idiot Compassion is full of excuses.

Other signs that you are participating in Idiot Compassion:

-You tell a more assertive friend about the situation and she tells you that you should speak up.

-You feel bad every time you interact with this person but are not sure why.

-You find yourself wanting to avoid a certain person because you feel a sense of guilt, fear or obligation whenever you talk to him/her.

If you suspect that you may be participating in Idiot Compassion, then the next step is to learn how to set up some healthy boundaries. In Barbara Brennan's book Light Emerging, Brennan calls the tendency to not set healthy boundaries "participating in a negative contract." Once you've identified the people with whom you are giving Idiot Compassion, then your next step is to set up better boundaries with them, a process Brennan calls "creating positive contracts."

This week, make a list of people to whom you suspect you may be serving as a doormat. (Your Idiot Compassion recepients, if you will.) Next week, I will show you a simple and effective way to dissolve your negative contracts and how to create positive contracts.

Still not sure whether the compassion you're dishing out is helpful or hurtful? Take this interesting and fun quiz to see how often you may be participating in Idiot Compassion.

dead and gone (thank god!)

Yesterday as I was running around town, getting a Mother's Day present for my mom, I heard an interesting song on the radio. It was by one of my favorite hip-hop artists, T.I., and it caught my attention because the lyrics seem to state exactly what is happening in my life (and probably in the lives of most people who have just progressed through Square One). Although T.I. is talking about leaving behind the violent ego-preserving expectations of rap artists (something to which I can't really relate) I felt like the guy understood me, and what I'm going through, completely.

Let me share this with you:

I've been traveling on this road too long. I'm just trying to find my way back home. The old me's dead and gone, dead and gone. I turn my head to the east; I don't see nobody by my side. I turn my head to the west, still nobody in sight. So I turn my head to the north, swallow that pill that they call pride. That old me's dead and gone but the new me will be alright.

T.I. is on the mark here with what it feels like to be in Square Two. These feelings of-Who am I now? and Where is everybody that used to be in my life? are very common. Martha Beck calls this "The Empty Elevator" syndrome but at times I like to think of it as a blank slate. It's a scary, lonely part of the cycle, but it can also be a perceived as quality time you get to spend with your new self. You want to know this new person, don't you, since you'll be living her life?

Sometimes I get excited knowing that I have the freedom to create whatever I'd like, but sometimes I get sad because the only people I socialize with these days are my husband and our new neighbors. It's a little unsettling for a social butterfly such as myself to realize that so many of her former social networks no longer feel right.

I've tried, for quite some time, to deny that the old me is really dead and gone. I continue to hang out with the same people I've hung out with for years, I continue to attend functions that I used to like to attend, I continue to volunteer for the same organizations that I've always volunteered for. What I'm learning is that the more I grow, the louder my body compass speaks to me. I can't deny any more that the evening get-togethers, party invitations and volunteer requests feel so, well, shackles on. Just to be sure that I'm not in a bad mood or that it's not my hormones speaking, I've recently gone to several gatherings and parties just to make sure that my compass is telling the truth. And it is. The old me really is dead and gone. The old life, and many people in that life, no longer fit.

Take, for example, the guy I've hung out with for years who invited me out for coffee only to spend the whole time bragging about himself and his accomplishments. Or the woman I was with the other day who rolls her eyes anytime I talk about the mind-body connection and dismisses me as hippy-dippy. Then of course there is the one girl who is so uncomfortable that I've married someone not American that she squirms anytime I talk about my new Indian husband.

Of course these people can't be your friends! my essential self says. Look at the way they treat you! And of course my essential self is right.

I have to admit, the hardest part about all of this is not neccessarily that I've got more alone time now than I've had in the past. (Like many creative people, I enjoy solitude and time experimenting with my new ideas). What's bothering me the most is that when the new me is hanging out with the people that the old me used to, she's absolutley horrified. Not only does it feel foreign to be in my old life but is feels downright insulting.

Why would I ever put up with being treated this way? I keep wondering. Why does so-and-so think it's okay to spend 90 minutes talking about himself in his slimy way? Why does so-and-so think it's okay to roll her eyes at me? Why would I hang out with someone who can't accept the person I love? The answers I come up with are never very fun to hear. It comes back to the age old adage of wisdom: You teach people how to treat you. And from the looks of it, I haven't been teaching people very well that I deserve to be treated with respect.

When I dive into the reasons behind this, I don't think it has to do with low self-esteem or low self-worth. It seems more like I suffer from something many kind, spiritual people do, a complex Buddhist teacher Pema Chodron calls IDIOT COMPASSION.

I was raised to be very kind to everyone, unfortunately even those who treated me like crap. You know, the whole "turn-the-other-cheek" thing. But allowing people to treat me badly no longer jives with my new self. When I found Chodron's article on Idiot Compassion, suddenly it all made sense. I had confused being kind to others with being a doormat (which, if you've ever suffered from this pyschosis yourself know that it means, ironically, that you are not being kind to everyone because you are not being kind to yourself).

Because Idiot Compassion is a complex topic, I'm going to write my next post on how to identify it, how to set healthy emotional boundaries with others and how to break ties with people who don't respect those boundaries. That's coming up.

For now, though, if you've gone through Square One, if you've jumped through the Ring of Fire (hopefully without too many burns) and are finding your elevator empty and lonely, here are some helpful next steps you can take (ones, I might add, that I am taking now myself):

1. Make a list of everyone who is in your life and with whom you interact.

2. Take a deep breath and start to focus on the sensations of your body. (Remember the shackles on, shackles off test? If you don't, see this post.)

3. Go through each name on your list, focusing on how your body reacts to the memory of this person. If you get a shackles on feeling (a negative feeling), put a - sign next to this person's name. If you get a shackles off feeling (a positive feeling), put a + sign next to this person's name. (Some people may register neutral. Put a 0 next to neutral people).

4. Find a way to spend more time with + people and less time (if any) with 0 and - people. I understand that there may be people on your list with whom you cannot avoid interacting. You may hate your boss and yet she may be someone with whom you have to interact with while you are at work. Keep your interactions to the bare minimum then. Remember that although you have to talk to her in meetings, you do not have to sit next to her during the office holiday party and pretend like you enjoy talking to her because she is your boss. See the difference?

5. Once you stop spending so much time with - people, you will start having more free time. At first this may feel like being lonely, especially if a lot of the people you used to hang out with get a negative reading on your body compass. You can use this time to:

a) Get to know yourself better (Julia Cameron's book The Artist's Way is a great book even if you don't think of yourself as an artist)

b) Spend more time with your + people

c) Find more + people to hang out with. (Meetup.com has a lot of interesting groups, some of which you may be interested in joining).

When you start treating yourself kindly, you will decide that you want to be surrounded by others who also treat you kindly. And that, my friends, is true kindness.

RECAP-5 Minute Life Coach

If you're finding yourself feeling a bit lonely after you've made some positive changes, or not sure if the people you've surrounded yourself with in the past will fit your new life, conduct this simple test:

1. Make a list of everyone who is currently in your life and with whom you interact.

2. Go through each name on your list, focusing on how your body reacts to the memory of this person. If you get a shackles on feeling (a negative feeling), put a - sign next to this person's name. If you get a shackles off feeling (a positive feeling), put a + sign next to this person's name. (Some people may register neutral. Put a 0 next to neutral people).

3. Find a way to spend more time with + people and less time (if any) with 0 and - people. Use the extra time you've now freed up to learn more about yourself or to meet more + people.