How to Let Go of Shame and Bring Healing Your Heart

How to Let Go of Shame and Bring Healing Your Heart

This post was republished with permission from www.tinybuddha.com. You can find the original post here: “How to Move Past the Fear of Judgment and Break the Silence of Shame”. 

“If we can share our story with someone who responds with empathy and understanding, shame can’t survive.” ~Brené Brown

Every time I think I’ve unloaded most of the pain from my past, something surfaces that tells me I have more work to do.

Just before #metoo became a thing, my boyfriend and I were cuddling one morning. I’m not sure what the trigger was, but out of nowhere, my thoughts rolled down a hill and into a painful memory that I must have blocked out.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as my whole body curled up into the fetal position. He asked me what was wrong and I slowly told him about a sexual trauma I had experienced.

We are radically honest with one another. Sharing the not so beautiful has deepened our connection. I thought I had shared my darkest secrets that carry shame.

I was wrong.

I had minimized and buried this story. Maybe subconsciously, I was afraid he would see this situation as my fault. He absolutely didn’t, and sharing my experience with him made me feel like a heavy burden was lifted.

This last part rang especially true the following week when the #metoo hashtag went viral. It was during that week of teasing through my feelings and thoughts that I realized just how much confusion shame can create.

The word shame can evoke such discomfort that we often don’t see how it shows up in our lives.

If there’s one emotion I see as most prevalent and most hidden in the work I do, it’s shame. Every time I lead a workshop or retreat, there’s a common theme that I witness in nearly everyone. As humans, we all tend to feel in some way that we’re unworthy.

Yet, the last thing we want to do is acknowledge our shame and vulnerability.

But if left buried, shame inevitably causes harm to ourselves and our relationships. In my experience, I’ve seen firsthand how understanding and shedding light on our scars can hold the key to healing.

Shame is the emotion that says, “I am bad. I am unworthy.”

It’s not that we did something bad and feel remorseful. That’s guilt. Guilt says, “I did something bad.” But shame is the internalization of “I am bad.”

Most of us, even if we had kind, loving parents, grew up feeling a bit like we had to censor our true feelings and experiences. We may have done this to avoid dismay, protect others, or keep the peace in our families.

We’re conditioned from a young age to feel shame when we learn who we shouldn’t be in the world. But as we get older, we don’t need others to make us feel shame. Shame becomes easily internalized and lives in that voice that says, “It’s dangerous to let others hear my story,” or, “They won’t love me if I share this secret.”

Who we are becomes fragmented so that we hide the parts of ourselves we want no one to see. We unconsciously employ defense mechanisms. While those defense mechanisms might help us to survive, they’re bound to stand in the way of having healthy relationships and growing a sense of self-love.

When we’re afraid to share our vulnerable side because we believe it would render us flawed, dirty, weak, and so forth, we’re carrying shame.

Shame is carried silently and secretly for fear of judgment; yet, it is the self-judgment that grows the longer we conceal our vulnerability.

I refuse to keep painful secrets festering inside of me, as I know that will only keep me repressed and disempowered in the long run.

All humans experience shame, and it presents in many ways. Here are a few examples I’ve noticed within myself that maybe you can relate to:

  • Being too sensitive and emotional
  • Not doing enough to “save” my mother from her death
  • Being too selfish to fully want to be a mother myself
  • Feeling I’m not ambitious or smart enough to live up to my potential
  • Struggling to communicate clearly when I have too much in my head
  • Feeling too “needy” with my partner at times
  • Believing I was somehow at fault for the sexual abuses I have experienced

My personal list could go on… But what I noticed when writing this list is that while many of the original sources of shame might be specific people or society as a whole, the critic is still me.

When we keep shame locked away inside, we get stuck in feelings of inadequacy. Shame may cause us to feel mentally or physically ill. Feelings of inadequacy can be accompanied by emotions such as anxiety, anger, and loneliness. And when we feel inadequate, we sometimes develop destructive ways of relating to others: avoidance, lying, blaming others, attempts to control others, and so forth.

So how can we deal with this lurking self-critic that wants to keep our stories in the dark?

1. Speak kindly to yourself.

Most likely, at some point you’ve heard the phrase, “Shame on you,” or, “You should be ashamed.” It can easily become habit to talk similarly to ourselves and challenging to learn to speak kindly.

A simple framework for healing I teach comes from an ancient Hawaiian tradition called H’oponopono. H’oponopono means “to make right,” and it’s rooted in the essence of reconciliation and compassion.

H’oponopono consists of four phrases: I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you. You can use these phrases speaking to another person. And you can use them with yourself. Here’s a personal example of the latter:

Melissa, I’m sorry for making you feel the trauma you experienced was your fault.

Melissa, please forgive me for placing blame on yourself and carrying shame all these years.

Melissa, thank you for your courage to shine light on your vulnerability and resilience.

Melissa, I love you and I commit to treating you with lovingkindness.

2. Self-soothe with movement and massage.

Think about what happens to your body when you recall a memory that carries shame. Often our bodies slump sinking our heart into the back body. Our gaze drops and our brows furrow.

Emotions, including shame, reside in the body. Much of what I practice and teach relates to physical ways to release stuck emotion for this reason.

If we want to reduce the unworthy and unlovable feelings we carry, it can help to self-soothe your body through dynamic movement practices like yoga and dance. Self-massage, tapping, and comforting touch while speaking kindly to yourself can help to release shame.

3. Share your story.

The most uncomfortable, but perhaps most effective method I can offer you is to share.

You don’t have to share your vulnerability with the whole world. Many of my friends shared courageous, deeply personal stories on Facebook in response to #metoo. For a moment, I thought I had to share this way as well, but then I did some reflection.

There are times I share my vulnerability through my blog or when I hold space for a group. But I don’t always want to share everything with strangers. In those cases, my partner is my greatest witness because of his ability to hold space for me.

Whether you share in a twelve-step program, with a loved one, or therapist, or in an article for the world to see, there’s immense healing power in this process. When our voices are heard and we’re seen just as we are, we open up the door to growing a new sense of self-acceptance and self-worth.

Mindful Camino Lesson #4: You must prepare for spontaneity

Mindful Camino Lesson #4: You must prepare for spontaneity

“You must plan to be spontaneous.” – David Hockney

A couple years ago, I attended a workshop taught by James Boag, who teaches applied yoga philosophy. He mentioned the above quote and it’s been with me ever since. Yet, I began to understand it at a deeper level while walking on the Camino de Santiago.

I’ll explain what I learned on the Camino, but first, let’s take a look at preparation and spontaneity.

If you’re a planner, you might be drawn to having an element of control and certainty in your life. But you may also know the limitations of trying to prepare and account for every detail of a life trajectory, event, and so forth. Plans often go awry and require improvisation and adjustment.

If you’re a fly by the seat of your pants kind of person, you might avoid planning. You might take risks simply trusting that things will work out. After all, you want an opportunity to change your mind and join the adventure of life.

And then maybe you’re a bit of both like me. You see, I’m a planner. I like my life to be organized and I prefer to know what’s coming on my calendar. Anyone who has known me as a colleague or partner would attest to this. At the same time, spontaneity fills me with a sense of adventure and I like the freedom I feel when I’m spontaneous.

The thing is, I haven’t always integrated these two parts of me into the balance I think is necessary.

What I Learned About Spontaneity on the Camino de Santiago

Many people take a year to prepare to hike a journey like this. It requires some diligent planning with respect to logistics, packing lists…and physical preparedness.

I booked my ticket just two months before my departure. And while I spent some time on logistics and loads of time packing, I did not give adequate attention to my body.

My weekend hikes did little to prepare me since the Midwest is mostly flat. Yoga and occasional biking may have done something. But I failed to engage in regular weight-bearing exercises, as well as see a doctor before leaving (the knee issue was not new).

Instead, I remembered my 29-year old body hiking a five-day trek in Colombia with challenging inclines and long days. I remembered my 27-year old body hiking straight up volcanoes for hours in Guatemala. I conveniently avoided thinking about my 33-year old knee that cried out in pain two years ago while hiking through a canyon in Utah with a heavy pack. I really assumed that if I had some initial pain on the Camino, my body would adapt eventually. And I was wrong.

But here’s the thing. What I came out of that experience realizing was not just I need to prepare extensively just before a trek like that, but that I need to prepare all year round. That is, if I want to be spontaneous when I’m called to adventure, I have to already be prepared in my body. This means I start now–well, as soon as I get medical advice on my knee.

Thankfully, there’s a part of me that was very prepared during my Camino…

The Deeper Reason We Must Balance Spontaneity and Planning

It’s become increasingly apparent to me that the balance between preparation and spontaneity is vital to living a healthy, full life. And I’ll tell you why.

There’s the obvious reason that too much impulsivity can be destructive, like in the example of the Camino. And rigidity can be too. Trust me, if I were married to my plans going exactly as hoped for every retreat I lead, I’d be a mess.

But I do see preparation as something we must do physically, mentally, and emotionally every step of our lives so that when our plans for life go off course, we can adapt without overwhelm and debilitating anxiety.

I think back to the months leading up to my stepmom’s passing earlier this year. My dad would often talk about how he was preparing for an emotional marathon by way of his workouts and seeking support from loved ones. This was his way of planning to survive the loss.

I, too, have undertaken a lifetime of mental preparation for various challenges to come in my life.

My mental strength was not enough to get me through the Camino physically. It got me through the pain for a while all right, but it couldn’t overpower the cry from my body telling me to stop. In this sense, my mind was more than I could ever have asked for in helping me arrive at the decision to stop my Camino. Trust me, that was one of the largest challenges.

If I can recommend one piece of advice for preparing for spontaneity it is to take time for self-care. That is, take time to get to know yourself–your emotions, your mental tendencies, your body. And then take time to nourish each of those areas of your life.

Mindful Camino Lesson #3: Stop Hiding Your Scars

Mindful Camino Lesson #3: Stop Hiding Your Scars

Scars. We all have scars and we all hide them. Today I’ll share with you one of my biggest insecurities, as well as some steps to embrace your scars.

I confess that my insecurity is rather superficial. As deep as some of my thinking may be, at times I get down on myself in a petty way.

We have visible and invisible scars that leave imprints on our lives. Yet, scars tend to have one thing in common: shame. Shame comes when we lack acceptance of our imperfections. We often see ourselves as flawed and unworthy…of love, success, belonging, happiness, etc. We struggle to see ourselves as whole. You don’t have to look far to see how prevalent lack of self-worth is in our society.

The Scar That Makes Me Self-Conscious

I have my share of emotional scars. But it’s the physical scars that make me feel insecure. I’ve dealt with acne for a whopping 23 years of my life. Its severity has waned at times, but it has always been a part of my life.

I love being my most natural self. I feel best when I’m barefoot and braless. I have two gray hairs that I adore. Feeling free of societal concepts of beauty is what makes me feel alive and feminine. But then there’s my concealer…

My concealer has been my crutch for years to cover up pimples and scarring. I’ve tried multiple elimination diets, dermatologists, medications, and natural remedies, but little changed.

And when people ask you what’s wrong with your skin–you tend to want to hide it. So that’s what I did. I used to get anxious and sometimes angry when a boyfriend would watch me put on makeup. I wouldn’t crash at a friend’s if I didn’t have my beloved concealer to go to brunch the next day. I envied the “perfect skin” people I’d meet.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this idea in my head of people saying, “Melissa would be pretty…if just her skin…” Do we all have these inner imaginary voices?

Removing My Mask on the Camino de Santiago

I wore a little concealer on the first day of the Camino. But the next day, I awoke with a sense of simplicity, so my concealer stayed buried deep in my backpack.

I encountered many pilgrims that evening at the albergue. No one commented on my skin. They all asked about my knees.

A couple of days later, when I sent a bag of belongings away to lighten my load, my concealer and a couple of other small makeup items went with it. I didn’t even think twice. I was ready to spend the next 10 days unmasked.

And I did. I got used to not thinking about my skin other than to wash it and apply sunscreen. I got so used to not wearing makeup that when I actually arrived in a larger city and went out to a restaurant with my fellow pilgrims, I didn’t even think about my scars. And you know what?

I’m not saying I’ll never wear makeup again. But I developed a sense of freedom and self-love in my process of allowing myself to be vulnerable and embracing my skin as it is.

There is great strength and empowerment in allowing our scars to show, whether physical or emotional.

How to Embrace Your Scars

  1. Remember you’re not alone. Everyone has scars. If you’ve experienced past trauma, you’re not alone. If you have stretch marks, you’re not alone. If you’ve lost a breast, you’re not alone. When we realize this, we have an ability to choose to share our scars openly to encourage and support those around us.
  2. Give up perfection. We need to let the unattainable illusions of magazines and Instagram go. I am seeing a trend toward more people sharing photos of cellulite and talking about their depression openly on social media, and I think this is the path. If you want to be perfect, be the real and authentic you. That is perfection.
  3. Embrace your scars. So, in the case of a more profound scar like emotional abuse, that scar is part of your story, but it doesn’t define you. Rather, it’s an indicator of resilience and perhaps lessons learned. I look at my example of acne scarring and I believe it’s made me more compassionate toward others. I have a friend who has struggled with her self-image for years. Her insecurities are different than mine, but I realize we both have them and my scars help me to arrive at greater empathy.
  4. Let your scars shine. When we stop concealing our perceived flaws, we give them less power and stop living in fear. A sense of freedom and love is invited into our bodies and minds. Our scars then can become a tool for sharing our vulnerability, and that vulnerability just might mean the world to someone else.

What scars are you hiding? How are you giving them power?

Mindful Camino Lesson #2: Pain is a Teacher

Mindful Camino Lesson #2: Pain is a Teacher

Today I’d like to share a few ways I see pain as one of my greatest teachers.

If you’re human, you’ve experienced pain… many kinds of pain. Loss of a loved one. A broken bone. A break-up. Discrimination. Chronic illness. Bullying. An absent parent.

Sensitive people can be particularly affected by pain. We’re more susceptible to stimulation, and we feel it on multiple levels.

That said, we also have a special skill in transforming pain into the fuel that makes our lives meaningful. I saw this within myself during my recent knee injury while hiking the Camino de Santiago. When pain struck, I used it to learn and make sense of my experience.

So what does pain teach us?

 

1. Pain teaches us resilience.

Sometimes it feels like it’s too much to bear. You may know that feeling intimately.

My knee pain was excruciating, but it paled in comparison to the sudden loss of my mother. Yet, the physical pain on my Camino reminded me of just how much we can endure, particularly if we have healthy coping skills at our disposal.

I met a German woman one day. In the few minutes we chatted, I learned she was carrying her husband’s ashes. He had hiked the Camino de Santiago annually since 2009 until his passing in 2016. This was powerful for me, as the thought of losing my partner is something that makes me anxious. Her sense of ease in carrying him with her made me realize just how strong we really are.

When we can sit with the challenges of our lives and incorporate it into our sense of strength and resilience, we become empowered beings that can handle almost anything.

2. Pain teaches us to listen.

It alerts us to a problem and urges us to listen.

It would have been wise to listen to my body sooner. But I was intent on finding a solution so I could keep walking. Meanwhile, I ignored the call from my body to take rest and made it worse.

Far too often we ignore the physical and emotional pain of our lives. We cope by working harder. We turn to alcohol and drugs as a temporary fix. We’re too good for our own good as we frantically help others while ignoring ourselves.

One of my yoga teachers, Morgan Lee, once said to listen to yellow lights to prevent injury. I’ll take this further and say that yellow lights come in many forms. Sometimes it’s a warning from your body. But maybe it’s a sign that you’re overloading your plate. Or maybe it’s a sign that it’s time to let go of that relationship that feels destructive or imbalanced.

3. Pain teaches us presence

On the Camino de Santiago, it’s very easy to get into “pilgrim mode” of walking quickly without taking time to talk to a local or notice the purple flower growing out of the ground. My injury forced me to pause and appreciate the beauty around me. And when I took the time to notice something other than myself, it helped me manage my pain.

Emotional pain is no different. When we power through or ignore it, we often miss an opportunity. If we allow ourselves to feel pain, then we can tap into a collective experience that all living beings share. When we are present with pain and notice how it shows up, we have an opportunity to reflect and transform it.

4. Pain teaches us gratitude

I caregive for a woman who had a stroke five years ago and spends her days sitting in a chair. She and her husband used to hike and travel all over the world. Now he goes alone.

While she has good days and bad days, she frequently talks about being thankful for her family and travel experiences. She’s thankful for the days when she’s not in as much pain. I thought of her a lot during my Camino.

I felt grateful for my ability to walk despite the pain. I felt grateful for the moment. I felt grateful for my breath, my eyes, and my ears. I felt grateful for the earth and trees, and all of the things that are more powerful than pain. I felt grateful for the small moments I photographed (see below).

Ultimately, that gratitude is what led me to stop my Camino. I thought of this woman and how her Camino shifted to an “inner camino” years ago.

That, my friends, is what the Camino de Santiago is all about for me. It was never about arriving, but about how we face ourselves and live as the highest expression of who we can be.

What have you learned from pain in your life? I’d love to hear from you if you feel inclined to share.

Mindful Camino Lesson #1: Lighten Your Load

Mindful Camino Lesson #1: Lighten Your Load

Last week, I returned from hiking the famous Camino de Santiago in Spain, but I never made it to Santiago.

Over the next few days, I’ll share with you what happened along with some Mindful Camino Lessons I learned along the way that just might resonate with you. 

But let me first explain the Camino de Santiago and my purpose for hiking it.

The Camino de Santiago was traditionally a religious pilgrimage to the city of Santiago de Compostela, the alleged burial site of the apostle St. James. Camino pilgrims hike the many different Caminos for many different reasons.

The Camino I chose was the Camino Primitivo, which is off the beaten path with beautiful natural landscapes. It seemed to be the most introvert-friendly, and in theory, I could hike it in under two weeks. The Camino Primitivo also happens to be the most physically challenging Camino.

My purpose for hiking the Camino was to have introspective time in nature. I wanted to know how I’d feel hiking alone for a long period of time–how my mind and body would respond. I’ve traveled solo quite a bit over the years. Each time I do, I’m reminded of my own strength and resilience. I was at a place in my life where I was craving that reminder again.

I got that reminder and much more.

One thing I realized is sensitive folks like me have a knack for tuning into the silver lining of challenging experiences and making deep meaning out of them.

Despite the setbacks that caused me to terminate my Camino early, I learned a great deal in the short time I hiked this epic journey. I’d like to share those tidbits of wisdom with you this week.

Mindful Camino Lesson #1: Lighten your load (even more)

What are you carrying in your pack?

As an introspective person who faces anxiety, these are questions I ask myself regularly in my practice of self-care. But this inquiry was incessant during my recent trek of the Camino de Santiago.

The Camino forces you to examine the physical and emotional baggage you carry. I believe it’s one of the key lessons the Camino has to teach us.

For me, I get that less is more. I’ve lived out of the country for two years with everything I needed in a backpack. I value minimalism and I thought I was good at keeping my load light.

But there’s almost always something more we can unload. And we carry baggage in many forms, all of which I believe contributes to greater anxiety.

Starting to Let Go of Heavy Baggage

I carefully sorted through my backpack multiple times before my trip to pare down extra weight, as I knew I’d be hiking 20-30 kilometers per day. Yet, I was convinced each item was necessary.

On Day 1, a knee issue that has visited periodically over the last five years crept in on me. I found myself almost unable to walk at the end of the day. The struggle persisted over the next couple of days. And as I struggled, I realized I was bogged down by the weight of my pack.

As soon as I arrived in a town with a post office, I sent six pounds of belongings to some friends in Madrid. I also started carrying less water and food. My pack was lighter, but it wasn’t enough.

The pain continued. Many Camino pilgrims told me it was normal and my body would adjust. I wasn’t so sure. But I listened to them and continued experimenting to continue walking.

I tried sending my pack from one town to another so I could walk without carrying my baggage. I felt free and light at the start of this day, but eventually, the pain came back.

Why was I so set on continuing my trek and what else could I let go of at this point?

How Emotional Baggage Causes Us Pain

Before starting my Camino, I visited a friend in the south of Spain. One day we were talking about expectations of others. I said I felt that I let someone in my life down just before I left. He said, “Your pack might be light, but you arrived with baggage.”

My friend was right. He encouraged me to communicate with this person. I did… and to my surprise, this person responded in an understanding manner. A weight was lifted.

But was it?

One thing that became clear to me during my long walks was how much of my anxiety comes from the expectations of others, and probably more importantly, the expectations I put on myself with respect to others. And well, I could also add the expectations I have of others.

As an introvert, I often get overwhelmed with social obligations and family expectations. I hold high expectations for myself to be able to be a better yoga teacher. I judge myself for letting go of social work and not doing enough for social justice. The list goes on…

If I don’t check myself, I can easily get caught up in a cycle of needing to be all things to all people, including myself.

And well, these expectations showed up on the Camino. I was subconsciously carrying emotional weight and it was permeating my experience.

I expected a lot from my body. I expected it to be able to climb up and down mountains with little preparation, as it did ten years ago. I expected my mind to be able to handle the challenges and thought all this would require was mind over matter. I expected to be able to work through any discomfort. I expected the people around me to be right when they said my pain would go away after a few days.

I carried the weight of expectation in a range of forms during my Camino. I cried the day I let it go. And then, I realized that I felt lighter as I let go of the pressure I put on myself.

The pain in my knees did not go away, but I was able to move into the Camino my body and soul were asking of me.

Take a deep breath and ask yourself these questions:

  1. What is weighing you down?
  2. What does it feel like?
  3. Who are you carrying it for?
  4. What would happen if you let it go?

Below I’ve shared a video of my thoughts on baggage during my Camino.

I’d love to hear from you if you feel inclined to share your process of “shedding baggage” and “lightening your load”. 

Feeling Anxious? How to Cognitively Reframe Anxiety

Feeling Anxious? How to Cognitively Reframe Anxiety

This post was republished with permission from www.tinybuddha.com. You can find the original post here: “3 Empowering Ways to Reframe Anxiety: Work With It, Not Against It”.


“If I take death into my life, acknowledge it, and face it squarely, I will free myself from the anxiety of death and the pettiness of life—and only then will I be free to become myself.” ~Martin Heidegger

If you are a lifelong anxiety warrior like me, you’ve been on a journey of ups and downs.

Anxiety fills our whole bodies. Tension. Heart pounding. Sometimes I feel like my heart must be visibly pulsating so much so that if there are others around, they can see it.

There are varying levels and types of anxiety, including clinical disorders. But the thing that we have in common is that at times we feel intense despair—like the world is caving in on us. We can feel literally stuck and life may even feel meaningless.

But what if anxiety isn’t always negative? What if we could begin to see it differently?

I’m going to share with you three archetypes that I use to cognitively reframe anxiety. Seeing anxiety in these ways has helped me feel more empowered in my journey.

First, I’d like to share a short story about my journey with anxiety.

I began to experience anxiety in early childhood. My parents divorced when I was three—about the same time I developed asthma.

The back and forth visits between my parents were hard on me. Just as I’d get comfortable in one place with one set of rules, it was time to change. I felt an internal struggle to be one Melissa in two different households.

I was sick a lot as a child and was routinely hospitalized each year for my asthma. I also pretended to be sick at times to stay home because the transition back to school felt so overwhelming. Missing school only created more anxiety as I tried to catch up.

To complicate matters, I grew up with a mom who could be very nurturing, but wildly unstable at times. Many of my fears and anxieties arose throughout my youth when my mom would spend months, sometimes years, in bed with some ambiguous illness no doctor could diagnose.

I believe the peacemaker and people pleasing roles I often served in my family played a part in developing my highly sensitive and empathetic nature.

Anxiety continued to visit me frequently throughout my youth and into adulthood as I contemplated my place in the world while healing past trauma.

When I was in graduate school, I talked to my therapist about medication. I was grieving the sudden death of my mom and was in constant struggle with anxiety. While there are cases that necessitate medication, I chose to explore other routes.

Today I still encounter feelings of self-doubt, abandonment, thoughts about death, my purpose, not fitting into the societal mold, and so forth. Some of these issues tie into what we might call existential anxiety, the anxiety that arises when we contemplate our life’s existence.

What has helped me to understand anxiety’s true nature is to work with anxiety rather than against it. By working with anxiety, we can start to see the light in anxiety rather than a dark monster. These are the archetypes I have assigned to anxiety to reflect that light.

Cognitive Reframing Approach #1: Anxiety as Motivator

A few years ago I attended a workshop in Mexico City on existential psychotherapy. One of the key concepts in existentialism is that anxiety is a core human experience that moves us toward growth and development. Because we know our time is limited and we all grapple with big, unanswerable questions, we feel anxiety about existence itself, and about making our lives matter. This anxiety calls us to be ourselves and live with purpose as we examine our lives.

Becoming a yoga instructor was one of the most terrifying times of my life. Despite years of public speaking and outreach as a social worker, finding my teaching voice was different. It was scary, as I doubted my capacity to bring a tradition I revered so much to others in a meaningful way.

Now when I face anxiety before teaching, I ask it to help me tap into the human anguish that my students face in other ways to best support them. It fuels my purpose of sharing my own vulnerability from the heart.

Some amount of anxiety is healthy and compels us to ask ourselves who we are, why we’re here, and where we’re going. Anxiety typically relates to these questions under the surface. The exception would be if we are talking about a specific fear, like spiders.

There is a difference between existential anxiety (which calls us to live with meaning) and pathological forms of anxiety (which deeply impair our ability to function). When anxiety becomes a problem, it becomes a disorder; yet, the treatment (cognitive behavioral therapy, talk therapy, etc.) is typically the same.

How does anxiety show up in your life as a motivator? Does it move you toward action?

Cognitive Reframing Approach #2: Anxiety as Teacher

When I encounter pain, particularly as it relates to anxiety, grief, and family conflict, I try to remember to ask myself, “What is there to learn here?” By asking this question, I take myself out of the role of victim and into the role of an empowered learner.

Because we see anxiety as a mental health problem, we forget that anxiety is not just living in the brain. It fills us with sensations and emotions in our bodies as our beliefs and old stories play out. Something is happening within us that is requesting our presence. Anxiety can help us to become more aware of what needs greater attention and love.

As an empath, I am prone to absorbing the emotions of others. There are moments when I experience anguish because of a painful time someone else is having. My body tightens up and feels suffocated when this happens.

When this occurs, I become more aware of what is happening and that I need to change something. It’s a cue to me that I need to do something with the suffering I’m feeling. It’s time to get on my yoga mat or go for a walk or maybe it’s a cue that I need to set boundaries in a relationship.

How does anxiety show up in your life as a teacher? What do you learn from anguish?

Cognitive Reframing Approach #3: Anxiety as Liberator

Wait, what? That was my reaction when I wrote the word. Allow me to explain.

As a society, we pathologize despair are taught anxiety is a sickness, which leads to us feeling bad about feeling bad. But since anxiety is a natural part of being human, it’s inevitable that it will surface. Even though I feel alone with anxiety sometimes, I try to remember I’m part of a collective experience of confusion, doubt, and suffering.

Sometimes anxiety arrives in my life and I’m able to take a moment to realize its origin. I notice that behind that anxiety is often very deep compassion, very deep fear, very deep desire to be a better person, and so forth. I then can see anxiety as a very deep capacity to experience the spectrum of human emotions and allow them to coexist.

Anxiety can either be avoided by living on the surface, as existential psychotherapist Emmy Van Deurzen puts it, or it can be deeply embraced as an inherent part of our being. If we choose to avoid it, it will smack us in the face later in life.

When we can start to observe anxiety in this way, we start to see it for what it is. We see that joy and anguish can exist together. We can lean into it discomfort rather than avoid. And through this process, we can begin to feel a sense of freedom.

What if anxiety is not something wrong with you but just part of the path?

The ideas I outlined might take a little time to resonate. I encourage you to sit with them and feel into each archetype before reaching any conclusion.

**I am not suggesting that reframing anxiety in this way can cure severe clinical disorders. My intention is to provide a thought-provoking piece to explore as a complement to any professional treatment you may receive now or in the future.

8 Special Superpowers of Highly Sensitive People

8 Special Superpowers of Highly Sensitive People

Have you been told you’re too sensitive? Unfortunately, it’s rather common in our society for highly sensitive people to be teased or criticized, even by loved ones. Our friends and family typically mean no harm. At times they may think they’re “just having fun” or maybe even showing affection.

As highly sensitive people, we may be able recognize the spirit of this way of relating. And so we get used to laughing it off and “letting it go”. But do we really let it go?

Over time, the hurtful words we hear settle deeply into the psyche.

We learn there’s something inherently wrong with us. The outside world tells us we’re weak and flawed. We’re too serious. We ought to be able to talk about certain issues without getting emotional.

Have you heard these words and statements?

I felt that way about myself for a long time. I wished I weren’t so sensitive. I felt so misunderstood and alone in my experience. Thinking of myself this way, made me feel anxious. I struggled to see the strength in being sensitive.

In recent years, I’ve begun to change my perspective on being highly sensitive.  

And then something happened recently that blew my mind.

My dad (who has historically called me sensitive) told me that he sees the positive traits my mom possessed in me. The first and only trait he mentioned in that conversation was my sensitivity.

In a separate conversation, my partner also told me that one of qualities he finds most attractive in me is indeed that I’m sensitive.

The thing about being a highly sensitive person is that it’s only a problem if we internalize our sensitivity as something negative. When we can tap into our sensitivity as a strength, or even superpower, then we truly begin to shift the paradigm.

Superpowers of Highly Sensitive People

  1. We’re deeply empathetic. Highly sensitive people frequently possess a strong ability to feel what loved ones and even strangers are experiencing. When we tune into these emotions, we truly feel them. This gives us a unique sense of open-minded compassion. I’ve had times when I was angry with someone, but still felt compassion toward that person knowing her pain. Of course, this superpower can also be a curse. Self-care is vital for highly sensitive empaths to avoid holding the suffering of others.  
  2. We’re considerate. We find ourselves extra conscious of our body language and respect the personal space of others because we know how it feels to be both shunned and invaded. We’re conscientious about the volume of our media and voices because we’ve been the quiet neighbor in a noisy building. Not everyone is sensitive to the same things, but we prefer not to infringe on the freedom of others to enjoy peaceful space.
  3. We’re flexible thinkers. My partner once told me that if I were to have a gravestone, it would be etched with “part of me feels like…” While this phrase sometimes pertains to decision-making, it also comes out when I’m discerning between right and wrong. Even with matters that are black and white to many people, highly sensitive people are able to think less dualistically and see where others are coming from before judging.
  4. We’re acutely aware. We are extraordinarily perceptive and intuitive when it comes to people and our surroundings. Sensitive people can often spot red flags in people and situations leading us to sniff out phonies or scam artists more quickly. I’ve taken a lot of risks in my life that make some people balk. But for me, I find I have a special knack for sensing the character of those around me.
  5. We’re creative. Highly sensitive people are often very imaginative and adventurous in their thinking. We tend to prefer thinking outside the box rather than linear thought process, which can lead to innovative problem-solving or vivid works of art. As a social worker, thinking creatively was imperative to helping my clients and changing systems.
  6. We’re sincere listeners. We tend to engage with others in a genuine manner that allows others to feel our support. Friends and family of highly sensitive people can typically feel our unique ability to hold space for their pain and struggle without getting overwhelmed or imposing our opinions. As an introvert, I sometimes disappoint my friends by not attending every party, but they know I’ll sit down with them for hours to lend a loving ear.  
  7. We embrace life experiences. Our nature is to connect to joy and sorrow equally and to experience the depth of human emotion. Highly sensitive people find meaning in life’s obstacles and use this to tap into our resilience. My journey of living with anxiety has taught me to integrate past pain into a resilient sense of self and thereby work with anxiety rather than resist it.
  8. We love deeply. Highly sensitive people love a lot. We really do. We feel love in our bodies. We love with our eyes. We love with our touch and we love with our souls. No one feels love in the heart center like sensitives do.

What are you greatest superpowers as a highly sensitive person?