The path is made by walking. Anyone with the smallest of fingers on the mindfulness pulse has heard some version of that statement before. It's ubiquitous, and for good reason – mindfulness is about living in the present rather than focusing on the path ahead or behind us. But like most sayings, ideas, and other poignant things, hearing is only one level of understanding. In order to truly get it, something has to happen in one's life to make it finally click. I've already written a lot on this topic. I thought I was using it in my daily life. I thought I really got it, until I realized there is actually nothing to get. When I set off on my 3-week, 8-state, 4,000-mile, solo-camping, journeyman trip, the "path is made by walking" was a launching off point. The past was behind me and the future yet unknown, so I would walk forward on a path – a literal path in the form of trails across 13 national parks and forests and an intellectual path that would hopefully mark my next steps in life. Some part of me expected the trip to uncover all the answers in my life like some sort of hallucinatory, native american vision quest. I wasn’t alone in that expectation – when I returned, numerous friends wanted to know what I'd discovered about life and if I’d figured out what I wanted to do next with mine. But sadly, I didn't return with all the answers. I certainly came back with a number of important lessons from the journey - confidence, humility, escaping nostalgia, the folly of multitasking, the true meaning of consequences, a renewed passion for the environment, and the freedom of disconnecting from the digital world - but no one lesson told me exactly what to do with myself now that I was home. The lessons I learned were more like suggestions – they gave me an idea of how to move along the path but no real indication of which direction to travel. So when I first got home, I struggled. I searched in vain for that one big vision from my vision quest, but I had no more clarity on how to move forward than I did before the trip, and I was left confused and crestfallen. Then, after two weeks back home, and feeling as though I was blindly crawling down my path instead of confidently striding forward, I finally got around to finishing the amazingly poignant "Wild" by Cheryl Strad. The closing passage: "It was all unknown to me then, as I sat on that white bench on the day I finished my hike. Everything except the fact that I didn't have to know. That it was enough to trust that what I'd done was true. To understand its meaning without yet being able to say precisely what it was... to believe that I didn't need to reach with my bare hands anymore. To know that seeing the fish beneath the surface of the water was enough. That it was everything. It was my life – like all lives, mysterious and irrevocable and sacred. So very close, so very present, so very belonging to me. How wild it was, to let it be." It was the answer I had been looking for... and the answer was that there is no answer.
You don't go out into the woods, close your eyes, and see the whole path laid out in front of you. You go out into the woods, close your eyes, and you hear the wind whispering through the pine trees, you feel the mist from a 600 foot waterfall brush against your face, you smell a perfume of ferns and soil and wild flowers. You go out into the woods, close your eyes, and you don’t see a vision...you see the powerful simplicity of right now. That is why the path is made by walking. Each step you take is this very moment. Each step is all that you can control, all that you know, all that you do. And with each step your path grows. It doesn't necessarily show you what's ahead, but by making each step count in the present you build up the path of your future. Your current step is reading this blog post. Your next step, what you do with your next moment, is up to you. My current step is sharing these blog posts with all of you. My next step, what I do with my next moment, is up to me. But no matter what, I’m going to charge forward with confidence and joy to see where it takes me. It was all unknown to me then, as I sat in my Prius on the day I finished my journey. Everything except the fact that I didn't have to know. Instant reaction...
Why do we feel the need to post about every story, jump on every bandwagon, opine on every creation, and respond to every comment? Life doesn't happen in an instant, it develops slowly over time. Whatever your reaction now, it will undoubtedly change later. But instead of giving yourself the space to dwell on your thoughts, to give them real consideration, we quickly post it, permanently attaching it to our public persona. As if that instant and unnuanced reaction is somehow fixed. Instant gratification... Why do we expect to see an instant reaction every time we post a story, jump on a bandwagon, opine on a creation, or respond to a comment? Life doesn't happen in an instant, it develops slowly over time. Whatever people's immediate response may be, it will change. But instead of giving them the space to thoughtfully react to our screed, we wait impatiently for a like or a share. We let ourselves feel deflated when the response is quiet. We backtrack on something we found important and delete a post, simply because not enough people decided to give you an instant pat on the back. Ideas are a tortoise, not a hare. I call for patience. Next time you have an immediate gut reaction, think on it for 30 minutes instead of immediately saying it. Notice how your feelings change over time. Notice how that instant reaction feels extreme after the patience of time softens the sharp edges. Next time your saying something, wait on reaction without expectation. Notice how your confidence grows over time. Notice how that instant gratification becomes less important after the patience of time strengthens your self-worth. The Freedom of Disconnection
6/11/2015
This article is cross-posted with Elephant Journal: www.elephantjournal.com/2015/09/the-freedom-of-disconnection Damn it felt good to be disconnected.
The connection addiction is endemic in our society. It’s one thing to catch up with friends, share a piece of your life, make plans, and discuss things you find important - that’s all well and good. But the ability to do those things at any hour of the day, and the expectation that everyone you know should be available to do so as well, it's just unhealthy. Social media is the drug and smartphones are the enabler. Together they give us a false sense of community, making us believe everyone is waiting with bated breath for our next update or text, when in fact everyone is just going about their own lives. And on the other side of the screen, our devices sit on our laps and in our pockets distracting us with deliciously tempting notifications, making us believe we should be waiting with bated breath for all your updates. One of the main reasons I took off into the woods for three weeks was to put all my mindfulness overtures about turning off notifications and reducing distractions into practice. But it's 2015, so I expected I would have some basic level of phone service available to me for most of the trip. I knew I could stop at Starbucks or McDonald's to use WiFi. If nothing else, I hoped I'd at least have a smidgen of phone coverage for texts and calls in an emergency. Out on the road I quickly realized that I'd seriously overestimated the strength of my network. Dead zones were vast and numerous. I drove for hours on small highways with no coverage whatsoever. Many campgrounds would show a few bars, but when push-came-to-upload, nothing would work. A few campgrounds had no service at all, forcing me to make a call in a real live phone booth so at least someone knew I was alive. When you spend most of your time in cities, it's not something you're used to. If you believe the Verizon commercials, it's not something you'd expect. At first it was frightening. My phone is an extension of me. It’s how I communicate with my friends and family. How I map my route and stream my music. It's how I write and update this blog. I’m so used to it always being there for me, whether I’m bored or in an emergency. In a way, spending hours or sometimes days without phone service felt like I'd lost an arm. Despite all my pronouncements to the contrary, connectivity had become that important to me. To some degree, connectivity is important to all of us. It’s unavoidable in our modern society. But as time rolled on I accepted my new reality. As Cheryl Strayed said in Wild, “This is what I came for, this is what I got.” So I got used to it. A constant connection became the exception rather than the rule. When it was available, it became a treat. By the end of the journey, I loved it. I actually preferred it. At my last destination I had three straight days of no phone service. I felt free, clear, calm, unrestricted, undisturbed, undistracted. I felt present. I don't believe I’m a selfish person, but gleefully reveling in the fact that you all couldn't get in touch with me almost felt egotistical. I knew I was missing out on all your updates and the important news of the day. It’s not as though I lost all interest in sharing things with you either. But I realized that being disconnected for a few days or weeks wasn't the end of the world. I would eventually be back on Facebook to catch up on life. Or better yet, I would eventually see you all in-person so you could fill me in on everything. Rather than being the end of the world, disconnection was the beginning of a new world. One where FOMO was replaced by YOLO, distraction was replaced by presence, and anxiety still existed but it was related to the threat of bears rather than the stresses of multitasking. There were times in the waning days of my trip when my phone did start working...notification bubbles popped up, my pocket buzzed, and a wave of texts crashed in. But at that point I had broken the addiction. The temptation was gone and rather than check those notifications I switched my phone into airplane mode. It was my time to disconnect. It was my time to enjoy the break. It was my time. I’m back in LA now where phones always work, pretty much everywhere. I've caught up with friends and even caught up a little with Facebook (though after being away from it for so long I’m finding it mildly tedious). But truth be told, I miss the freedom of disconnection I found in my journey. I miss the mindfulness it practically forces upon you. I miss what it feels like to realize that you and you alone are in charge or your own entertainment, there is no depending on others or apps. This may change as the days and weeks pass here in the real world. I’ll fall back into old habits, because that’s what people do. But I’m going to do my best to hold on to as much of this lesson as possible. Phones always work here, except when you hike a little further out in the mountains. Phones always work, except when you switch it to airplane mode as a choice, just to take a break. Phones always work except when you choose to be present and ignore the temptation to post every detail of your life on Facebook. We are only as connected as we choose to be. When you have the opportunity, choose real life over digital life. Addicted to Like
5/8/2015
Might as well face it, you're addicted to like." ~Robert Palmer & Jason Wise Hi. My name is Jason Wise and I'm a likeaholic. With my addiction, likes come in two forms.
There's the digital Facebook kind of like. This one is pretty basic - the excessive liking of posts, the posts seemingly crafted to generate likes, and that saccharine high you feel when you get a lot of attention on something you share. We've all seen it. We've all been there. But there's also a more anthropological type of like. It comes from the comradery of our shared experience. Not just liking something yourself, but liking something together. And by sharing that moment with someone you actually end up liking that person even more. This is the basis of friendship. It's a way we bond with one another. As social beings, it's part of our DNA. It's why we created language. It's why Facebook became a thing. Yesterday I arrived at my first #journeyman destination: Zion National Park. I set up camp in the morning and quickly hit the trails. Out there in nature I saw so many beautiful things. 10,000 beautiful things to be precise (a reference within a reference from Wild by Cheryl Strayed, which I'm currently reading). Every time I saw a beautiful thing I smiled. I mean, how could you not? But now and then, one of those beautiful things was more than just beautiful, it was spectacular. It was awesome, like I'm literally in awe. I tried to take pictures, but when I look at the picture on my phone I scoff, because it's not quite the same. It's like those old ditto copies we had in elementary school: faded, blurry, distorted. No matter how many filters or boosts I use, it doesn't capture it. It can't be captured. So I put down my phone and just marvel. I'm feeling all the feels and it feels wonderful, but in a flash my next thought is...I wish I could share this with someone. Not with an Instagram post, not even in a text, but share it for real, in person. Sure there are other people on the trail. Friendly chatty people, way-too-slow people, smelly German people, feeding the aggressive squirrels people. But I miss having someone I know. I'm miss sharing that view with a friend. I knew going on a solo journey would be lonely. That was one of the reasons I did it. We as a society, and I myself, are so used to leaning on the kind shoulder and shared experience of others. That's good and bad - good because sometimes you need that shoulder to lean on, and bad because sometimes you need to stand on your own. As I stood gazing at the stunning Angels Landing tower in Zion (seriously, Google it) I felt a wave of melancholy. I realized I couldn't nudge a friend next to me and say, "wtf, do you see that amazingness?!" I realized I could never share that particular experience. So you see, this is my affliction. I'm addicted. I've been conditioned to need the attention, the connection, the comradery. I get a little hit when you double tap on my Instagram pic. It feels so good when you like my Facebook mood. But the real good stuff, the sticky-icky, that's when we hang in person, I get a hug, and we clink a beer. This was my first day out on a hike alone, so these are withdrawals. It was tough at times but I made it through. I'm already getting better. Day-one likers anonymous chip in the pocket. I'm learning that I can't share everything with everyone. Some things are for me and me alone. And that's OK. Life has a way of taking you in unexpected directions. My path is about to take a sharp left turn.
We all have different and very personal journeys in life. Sometimes you push yourself along, controlling your direction by sheer force of will. That is the road you choose. Sometimes you're slowly pulled into unknown and uncharted territory by a strange gravitational force. That is the road that chooses you. In both cases, you either move or your heart aches, knowing that there might something else out there—something more. I just quit my job of 5 1/2 years. It's the first time I've ever quit without having something else lined up, be it work or school. I know it's risky. I'm used to having a paycheck and a daily schedule. I'm used to the comfort and stability that brings. I'm used to having an answer to the proverbial question, "what do you do?" I'm used to the comfortable persona I've created through my answer. I know it's risky to leave my job, but I also know it's right. This wasn't a decision made lightly. I worked at AIDS Project Los Angeles. There I advocated with government and the community to end LGBT stigma and to combat the health disparities that put my community and my friends at risk. It's a wonderful organization, there are amazing people who work there, and I know for a fact that they do great things and help lots of people. I've truly appreciated every second of my time there. But for the last few years I've felt a shift. Something deep inside me wanted to explore, to take a step in a new direction. A strange gravitational force was pulling me away into uncharted territory, and I finally obliged. During this same period I discovered mindfulness—how to chill and be present instead of worrying about the endless and unknowable possibilities of the road ahead. But being mindful in the present doesn't mean you give up all your hopes for the future, it means you live in every moment as another step towards that future. I'm living those moments now. So I took a leap of faith—a simultaneously frightening and exhilarating leap. The next step I'm taking is perhaps even riskier. I'm leaving home to spend 3 weeks in the woods...alone. This is something I've thought about for years and I know it isn't all that groundbreaking. There are hundreds of books, new and old, on the topic. Native American tribesman did it as a coming of age ritual. There are even major motion pictures depicting it. But every time I've read about it, or saw it on a screen, or imagined myself doing it, I knew. Even though it would be difficult, physically and emotionally, I knew. Even if it would be nearly impossible to explain to colleagues, friends, my mom, and especially to my partner, I just knew. From childhood until now, my passion for the environment has been a guiding force—I was fascinated with Walden in 7th grade and my masters degree was focused on environmental policy. In the last few years my relationship to nature became even more personal. Beyond my drive to protect the planet through everyday decisions and advocacy, the earth has also become my teacher, my friend, and my mindfulness guru. So I'm taking another leap of faith—a revelatory, mildly dangerous, and possibly selfish leap. I'm leaving the city to go wild and commune with nature, to camp without modern distractions, to hike and explore our National Forests, to read books about discovery, self-reliance, and overcoming fear, and to write pages and pages of inspired Mindfulness Now posts (you've been warned). I'm leaving my man, my dog, and my home behind for this experiment, and that has been the biggest struggle of all. I'm leaving all the things that give me comfort in life so I can really understand what it feels like to get out of my comfort zone. I can't predict the outcome of all this. Ideally I'll rediscover myself, figure out my next step in life, write amazingly insightful blog posts, and set a solid foundation of inspiration to guide me into the future. Or maybe, after a few weeks of sleeping in a tent, hiking in the woods, and taking some pretty pictures for Instagram, I'll still have no clue what to do with myself. And that would be ok. Really. A journey isn't about expectation, it's about discovery. The trail ahead may not be clear, but I'm ready for this hike. I've taken one step by leaving my job. Soon I'll take another next step by going wild. It may end up easy, with the trail coming into focus as everything falls into place as I walk ahead confidently. I'll learn from that. It may end up arduous, with cliffs, loose footing, and more questions than answers. I'll learn from that too. Either way, I'm ready to walk down this path. Hopefully it leads me to myself... The word "friend" is incredibly amorphous. This is especially true on Facebook where you can be friends with such a wide range of individuals: people you've never actually met, people you knew 20 years ago, people you see in-person on occasion, and people you consider your besties.
Everyone has their own definition of what friendship truly means and every relationship, like everything in life, will change over time. Some friendships last a lifetime, so that even if you're apart for long periods of time you can always pick up right where you left off. But it's also true that your besties today may not be your besties tomorrow. And while it feels sad to even type that out, I wouldn't have it any other way. People come in and out of your life for a reason, it's all part of our path, all a lesson. No matter what type of friend they are, that's how you grow, whether that's growing together or apart. I love all of my friends, no matter how close or far, because you all bring something different to my life. I refuse to place my expectations on any of you based on how I think you should act or how we should be. I choose to grow with the punches. I chose to have fun in life... with whoever cares to join me. As the giant Coachella snail said, "if you want to go fast go alone. If you want to go far, go together." Reduce Distractions / Reduce Stress
3/24/2015
How many times do you have a bunch of important projects to work on, but instead of actually working on them you go bum around on Facebook? How many times have you promised yourself you'd go to bed early but you stay up, reading yet another mindless article, or an even more mindless comment thread? How did that make you feel? I'm guilty of falling into a distraction trap on the regular. I don't even know why I do it sometimes. It's a habit, a bad habit, where if I have a free moment, even if it's mere seconds, I pull out my phone... tap on that Instagram icon, or Facebook, or Twitter, or Messenger, or edit a few photos, or check my activity progress on Human, or look at the Weather report, or open Pages see how many views my Facebook sites are getting, or Weebly to see if anyone is actually reading this blog (they are!). The list goes on and on. Some months back I turned off notifications for most of these apps. That helps, to a degree. Now I'm not getting beeped and buzzed at just because of a like or a message. But the apps are still there, taunting me. Knowing they exist, knowing there might be new information, creates a mental distraction in it's own right. We have so many options to distract ourselves from all the regular tasks of life, but by wasting our time with distractions we make those tasks much more difficult. You'll still have to finish those projects and go through your to-do list, now you just have less time to do them. The temporary relief you get from the distraction is grossly offset by all the stress it creates in the future. Was the distraction worth it? Did those 45 minutes on Facebook make you feel any better? Did hearting a few pictures on Instagram help you get your real work done? The answer of course is always NO. Remember that. Next time you move that mouse over to open Facebook, remember it. The next time you're tempted to start tapping at apps, remember it. The first step toward breaking any bad habit is to acknowledge that it is bad. Every time you remember it, you're a step closer to forgetting it. Express Yourself
2/27/2015
It might come as a surprise to you considering I'm posting these very words on a very public blog, but I'm not always so good at expressing myself, especially not in-person. I tend to be thoughtful in what I say, overly-thoughtful at times, because when I say something I want to really mean it.
Not only does it take me a while to figure out what I want to say and how I want to say it, but even after I've said it, I often immediately think of how I could have said it better. This blog is easy, because I can edit something for days, weeks, and sometimes months (seriously, there are a few screeds I've been editing since last July and they're still not ready to be posted), I can even edit my posts after they've been published, which is good (I enjoyed rethinking my post about Boyhood last week) and bad (I edit my posts after they've been published ad nauseam). Real life doesn't give you an edit button. Once you say something, it's out there. That permanence bothers me. All permanence bothers me. I'm fluid, I live on change, or at least I live on the hope that things will always change, eventually. The digital age makes it worse--it encourages us to self-edit and filter our lives to present a certain image. But putting your thoughts out there, telling people how you feel, and being your honest self are all extremely important aspects of mindfulness. It's the difference between being present and speaking your mind, or worrying about the future so you throttle your voice. Honesty doesn't mean you have to be an asshole either, spouting off the first thought that comes to mind no matter how hurtful. I'm certainly not advocating against tact. There are plenty wonderfully caring people who are present and true to themselves and honest in what they say. I'd like to think I'm someone who is kind. but a little more reserved. We all fall somewhere in the spectrum. More and more, I've learned the importance of expressing myself, openly, fully, outwardly. It can be uncomfortable, but it's oh so important. This blog is an exercise in expressing myself. I've been writing my thoughts down for a while now in private, and that's another way I express myself. In the last few years I've made more of an effort to foster open dialogs with the people I love, from my family to my partner to my friends. At times I've specifically made an effort to stop and think, "why do I enjoy spending time with this person?" I write down the answer and then I tell that friend in-person so they know how much they mean to me. I've found that the more open I am with others—the more I express myself—the more true and honest expressions I get back. This might be the biggest benefit of it all, because when I'm honest and tell someone about my anger, joy, anxiety, or contentment, they're more likely to be honest to me, tell me how they feel, and we start a dialog. It brings us closer together as friends, as family, as partners in life. This is my March monthly challenge to you: EXPRESS YOURSELF Every morning this month, pause and remind yourself to be more honest—let people into your life, think about how you filter yourself on social media, be honest with yourself, and write down how you feel. That expression, that acknowledgment of who you are, that's how you grow. It helps you process your emotions and become more mindful. Write something down that's true about yourself. Right now. Pick up the phone, send an email, or punch out a text to a friend to tell them why you love them. Right now. Notice how good it feels to get that off your chest. Mindfulness Now
2/26/2015
The time for mindfulness is now.
Not tomorrow. Or next Monday, next month, next Memorial day. Now. Not in a New Years resolution. Or after you birthday, a baby, a big vacation. Now. Not in an hour. Or after one more Facebook scroll, another soapbox rant, a clickbait binge. Now. Not when you finish that big project. Or when you find that new job, get out of debt, meet your dream man. Now. You can always find an excuse. There's always a way to delay another day. Stop waiting. The time for mindfulness is now. Distraction
2/6/2015
We live in a world of a million options. At any given moment, there are a tons of different things we could be doing. On Facebook alone (at least on my newsfeed) I could spend all day following links, watching youtube videos, exploring photo albums, listening to music, commenting, liking, posting, ad nauseum. It truly is a clickhole.
But what am I really accomplishing by spending my time this way? The answer is... nothing, I'm accomplishing mostly nothing at all. Sure, it keeps me up to date on the latest news from my friends and family. It fills me in on current events and Hollywood gossip, giving me something to talk about when I'm out in the real world. So there is some value to it. But as far as my personal growth, my forward progress, I'm lost. Any benefit from it is easily negated by the damage done to all the other parts of my life that I'm neglecting. As with most things, there's both a good and bad side to this. I wrote this blog post some weeks ago while I was on a plane, and as I typed away I was repeatedly distracted by the gorgeous view outside my window of California's bright green, rolling hills and epic, snow capped Sierra Nevada mountains. This was a good distraction. Taking a moment marvel in the beauty of nature is never a waste. But then what about those times when you spend a few hours trolling around Facebook instead of getting on that writing project you've been meaning to tackle. Or when you play a video game all day instead of going on that hike with your friends. Or you when you stay home night after night watching mindless "reality" TV shows instead of engaging in the actual reality that's all around you. I believe in balance, so there's absolutely nothing wrong with distractions up to a certain point. Life shouldn't be all serious all the time--ugh, that would totally suck--but life isn't just a bunch of fun and games either. The serious parts of life are the lessons, the growing pains, all the conversations and questions that are a central part of who we are as humans. The fun times are there too for a much needed mental break, to lighten the load so we can recharge before going back to this meaningful business we call life. Figure out a way to engage in both sides. Do it even when real world stuff hurts a little bit. Push yourself to get away from the comfort of distractions and out into the life-affirming waters of the present. It may be difficult at first, but I swear, in the end, you'll be happy with the results. Imagine your day is an empty container. It has a finite capacity, a mere 24 hours, a third of which is taken up by sleep (that is, if you're able to sleep). There's only so much you can fit into this brief space of time, only so much you can do with this small moment of your existence. How will you choose to fill this container? Will you choose to fill it with: family, friendships, relationships, aspirations, physical and mental well-being, learning, hoping, and growing? All the noble things in life that you know you should be doing, but you don't always necessarily do. Or will you choose to fill it with: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, TV, video games, trashy articles, click-bait, gossip, alcohol, and drugs? All the distracting things in life that you do, but you know you shouldn't necessarily be doing. There's definitely room for moderation here—trust me, I'm no prude. Distractions are easy, they feel good, and can be a much needed break from the weight of life. If done right, if done in balance, distractions aren't all that bad. It's up to you. If you choose to spend some time in the morning catching up with friends and reading articles on Facebook, great! But set a limit for yourself. If you won't keep to your limit, try the Stay Focused app for Chrome, that automatically locks you out of Facebook—or any other site—based on your own set of rules. And try turning off notifications or even deleting the mobile app so you aren't so easily drawn back into the clickhole. It's up to you. If you choose to go out to the bar, have fun! But set a limit for yourself. It's one thing to have a go out and let loose, set aside your stresses for a night, and foster stronger friendships. It's another thing to let that fun night ruin the next day with a hangover. With both the noble things and the distracting things, choose balance. That way you can both enjoy life and accomplish something in life, which is really what our ultimate goal should be. How will you choose to fill it up your container today? Mindfulness Cues
1/15/2015
It's really easy to see the faults in your life and think, "yeah, I totally want to fix that." It’s a whole other thing to actually go in there and start fixing it. That's because changing a habit is hard, especially all the super unmindful habits that’ve grown out of the digital age. Sometimes we need a trick to help us stick to it.
Enter mindfulness cues As each of us goes throughout our day, we can use reminders or triggers to remove distractions and the stress they create. This is my new challenge to you: set aside a specific time every day to be mindful. Choose something you already do and turn it into a mindfulness cue. Every day, sometimes multiple times a day, I charge my phone. What if I used that as a time for mindfulness? Instead of standing next to the charging area, continuing to tap away at Facebook, Instagram, or Gmail, what if I set the phone down and leave it alone? Instead of picking up my iPad as an alternative, what if I used that moment to breathe and be present? Phone charging time is now my mindful time. It's a reminder to stop distracting myself with the wealth of mindless activities our over-connected world has to offer and start living in the real world, the here and now. When it’s time to recharge my phone, it’s also time to recharge my mind. And I'm posting this here publicly so my friends can keep me honest. Letting other people know you're trying to change a habit helps you stick to it, because they can give you shit when you start to waiver. Never underestimate the power of a healthy guilt trip. So choose something that works for you. When you use the bathroom, leave the iPad on the counter. When you eat breakfast in the morning, close the laptop lid. When you have lunch at work, don't have it at your desk. When you're waiting for a friend to arrive at dinner, look around you instead of at your phone. There are a million different moments in your life that could act as a mindfulness cues. The possibilities are endless. It's so easy to forget, but every moment of every day is chance to find peace and the power to do it is right there inside you. Try using your everyday life to remind you of it, and see how much that reminder can help you get there. Foster the Friendship in 6 Steps
12/17/2014
You gotta have friends, so says Bette.
There are the types of friends you laugh with and the types you can cry with; ideally your best friends are both. But as adults, these types of friends are harder to come by. When you're growing up, especially in school, you spend hours a day with your friends. In college, you might even live together. It's easy to foster close bonds when you're in such close proximity and you hold close interests (class, sleeping, and partying, in no particular order). After college many go their separate ways. Lives begin to revolve around jobs and family and the distance grows. Maintaining friendships and fostering new ones requires a lot more effort. Enter the digital age. Facebook, Twitter, et all promises to bring us closer together, and in many ways they do. You can stay in touch (or at least stalk) friends from near and far: travel with them on vacation, watch their kids grow, follow their marathon training, wish them a happy birthday. For all intents and purposes, you're connected, you're keeping in touch, you're friends. But if that's all you do--sit behind a computer screen and maintain a passive relationship--are you really friends? This kind of passive digital friendship is dangerous. It's easy to get jealous when you watch your "friends" hang out with their friends in the form of check-ins and selfies. How come we haven't developed that close relationship? Why wasn't I invited to that party? You're so close, you can see every little update, but yet you feel so far away. So how do you change this? How do you build real, meaningful, friendships in an age where most of what you see of your friends can be broken down to digital code on a far away computer server? It's time to foster the friendship:
All these things sound like dating advice and, in reality, there isn't much difference between getting to know a friend and getting to know a boy or girl-friend. Friendships are relationships too. If you sit at home drinking wine and clicking "like" you're not going to meet a new friend or a new partner. In both cases you're looking for another person to connect with. In both cases you need to put in a little effort to see how deep that connection will go. Meaningful relationships don't just happen to you, they happen because of you. It doesn't always work out. Maybe the connection just isn't there for them. That's fine, everyone is unique, not everyone will gel. You can choose to get upset by this, or you can choose to turn to your other friends, see what other relationships you can foster, meet new people and connect with them. It's not a finite process. No relationship, friendship or romantic, is static, nor should it be. Keep learning, keep meeting, keep fostering, keep making an effort. The possibilities are endless. There's More to Life Than *Likes*
12/10/2014
We post a status update to make a statement, hoping to start a conversation, hoping to make them laugh. We upload a photo of our view, hoping our friends will take a look, hoping they'll find it as beautiful as we do. This our modern form of passive communication. We're all just looking for our place in the world. Some sign that the people we find interesting find us interesting too. That they want to talk with us and share the view. That they get us, agree with us, like us. But this passive form of communication--hoping, waiting, expecting digital validation--it's not mindful. It takes you out of the moment. Instead of being where you are, now, you turn away to focus on others, out there. You begin to place your expectations on them and, in turn, conjure up anxiety and doubt as you wait for that all-important *like*. So, as you go about your digital life, repeat this mantra: there's more to life than *likes*. A *like* is not a measure of genuine friendship. A *like* is not love. A *like* is a passive reaction to what could be a very active thought. How a person reacts to any post is entirely subjective. Maybe they find your post funny, clever, or enlightening. Maybe it awakens an angry spirit of disagreement. You can't control that. You shouldn't attempt to. Repeat: there's more to life than *likes*. Even if they do enjoy the post, a digital *like* may not be their reaction. I've come to understand this even more so from writing this blog. Friends who never *like* or otherwise acknowledge a single Mindfulness Now post on Facebook, will tell me, in person, how an update really resonated with them. Their reaction was more personal than a public *like* might suggest. That's because: there's more to life than *likes*. Waiting for others to validate your digital life is a trap. It encourages self-editing and dishonesty. It pushes you to create a persona rather than be the person you really are. Don't fall for it. You are the only validation you need. Be yourself, be honest, share what you want, and then let it be. I struggle with this issue myself. Most of us do. We're all seeking a connection, hoping to be understood, struggling to be heard. When I feel bogged down, searching for validation from my digital existence, I try to take a step back and very mindful deep breath. I remind myself: there's more to life than *likes*. A *like* is an illusionary sign that what you posted is valuable, but in the end all that really matters is that it is valuable to you. Scratch Below The Surface
12/4/2014
It's no secret that most people stick to posting positive things on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, and we don't need scientific research to prove the depressive effect that can have on us (though here are some anyway). I'm guilty of being a part of this myself: I post smiling selfies and news about accomplishments, I don't usually take to Facebook to complain. But truth be told, if you scratch below the surface you'll find there's a lot more going on than what you see through the lo-fi photo filter of digital life. I post smiles because they make me happy during the difficult times. I choose to dwell on the good things in life as a cure-all. Glass half full and all that. But on the other hand, there's absolutely nothing wrong with feeling sad. It's completely natural and everyone does sometimes... sometimes a lot... sometimes a lot more than they let off. My point is, if you're feeling blue don't let the happiness of others get you down even more. We all have a lot more going on in our lives than you will ever see on a silly social network. Pull back the curtain and you'll find we're all on this same insane roller coaster called life. |
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blog searchauthorMy name is Jason Wise. Life's all about the journey, man. Find me on Instagram and Facebook. archives
May 2020
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