How to Fix a Broken Relationship and Make It Last

It’s normal for any relationship to go through ups and downs. It’s a natural process wherein two different people work together to bridge their...

How to Start a Relationship: Things You Need to Know

If you have watched every rom-com movie, how to start a relationship is all the same. Two people meet, there is love at first...

Meditation Prep

Alan Finger’s Energy-Clearing Yoga Sequence to Prepare for Meditation

  Zev Starr-Tambor Yoga Journal’s new online Master Class program brings the wisdom of world-renowned teachers to your fingertips, offering access to exclusive workshops with a...

Move Into Meditation with Shiva Rea’s Prana Flow Pranams

Tadasana with Anahatasana and Jaya Mudra Mountain Pose with heart opener and victory mudra Rise to standing, with your hands at the base of your spine...

How a 31-Day Loving-Kindness Meditation Challenge Transformed My Relationships and Reduced My Anxiety

  A 31-day loving-kindness meditation challenge was not going to be easy for a Yoga Journal Editor. But she was excited to see where the...

A Heart-Opening Yoga Sequence with Elena Brower

ace, where you receive and give love. ELENA BROWER UPDATED: MAY 16, 2017 ORIGINAL: SEP 8, 2016 Today, we’ll practice moving your...

Elena Brower’s Sequence to Strengthen Core Connection

Today, we’ll work on strengthening your core with a few standing postures, which will help you feel the relationship between your core and steadiness—
both physically...

Get Your Sit Together: 7 Best Meditation Cushions to Support Your Practice

  Meditation cushions can make all the difference when it comes to a successful, comfortable meditation practice—for beginners and experts alike. Here are the best...

Can You Buy Your Way to Enlightenment?

  From virtual reality to the Somadome, Yoga Journal investigates five meditation aids to find out if they actually work. Courtesy of Somadome I don’t want to...

Get Your Sit Together: 7 Best Meditation Cushions to Support Your Practice

  Meditation cushions can make all the difference when it comes to a successful, comfortable meditation practice—for beginners and experts alike. Here are the best...

Everything You Need to Know About Meditation Posture

  Do you sit down for meditation and wonder if you're doing it right? Learn all about the universal meditation posture here. There are a million forms of meditation in...

Benefits of Meditation

Letting Go In Meditation Isn’t As easy As It Sounds

The profound opportunity of meditation is to completely let go of any adherence to your current interpretive framework. All of the experience we have, every sensation that...

This Is How Becoming A Father Transformed Me

I’m 41 years old and have a 2-year-old son. Relatively speaking, I’m a little late to the parenting game. Until a few years ago,...

With Meditation We Can Remain Steady Through Any Storm

When we meditate it is good to remain as still as we possibly can and here’s why. Our physical stillness in meditation is a metaphor for not...

Using Meditation to See the Bigger Picture

Imagine you’re at a beach on a beautiful summer’s day, and you become aware of a child moping and whining, complete with the familiar...

Accessing Unlimited Possibility

Possibility is a powerful word. Whenever we say something is possible it means it can happen. It is real. Reality is defined by what is possible...

Compassion Is the Key to Overcoming Hardship (and Insomnia)

“You can never know how many lives you’ve touched, so just know it’s far more than you think. Even the tiniest acts of love, kindness, and compassion can have a massive ripple effect. You have made the world a better place, even if it doesn’t seem like it.” ~Lori Deschene I never had trouble sleeping until I got divorced. I never had a nervous breakdown either. Bankruptcy, fighting for custody of my children, and losing my business and my home definitely pushed things over the edge. What made matters worse is that unabated, stress-related sleep deprivation can lead to difficulty functioning, depression, and incredible self-loathing. In other words, insomnia completely messes with your mind. Having a psychiatrist in the family should have been helpful; at least he was well-intended. And, while it’s not exactly best practice to prescribe for a relative, I was literally frozen in my bed, eyes wide open for way too many nights in a row, with two small children to care for. I was living in Las Vegas and desperate for help. He was in New York, near the rest of my family. Out of love and pity, he conceded. We started with Ambien for the first few nights. Nothing. We tried Lunesta which made me more wakeful. I am pretty sure the move into Restoril is what made me break.  According to rxlist.com, Restoril can “cause paranoid or suicidal ideation and impair memory, judgment, and coordination.  “ Taking Restoril did not restore my sleep. It caused me to temporarily lose my mind. Lying in bed, my eyes were glued wide open in panic. I was convinced that my children would be taken away to be raised by their father and his girlfriend, while I would be locked up in some random psych ward, forever wearing a white hospital gown. I would lose everything and bring complete shame to myself and my family. What had gone wrong? I was born happy and easygoing; nothing much ever fazed me. I was an independent, self-assured child who had grown into a strong, grateful woman. I was a free-spirited artist, always known for “looking on the bright side.” Now, lying in sleepless wait, taking my own life frequently floated in and out of my extremely messed-up mind. Thankfully, I always concluded that I could never abandon my children or destroy my family. Still, I was so completely traumatized that I literally could not move unless absolutely necessary. My meditation cushion was next to my bed; I had just started this practice and did not yet have strong skills. All I knew was that after I sat, I could gather myself enough to care for my sons. I can’t recall if it was two or three weeks that passed in what I now refer to as my “psychotic break.” I do remember my relative, the doctor, saying, “Elizabeth, I’ve given you enough sedatives and tranquilizers to take down an elephant, and you’re still not sleeping. There is a chance you are bipolar. It can have a very fast onset, and it runs in our family.” Bipolar? Me? Little Miss Sunshine?? That was all I needed to hear. I had started a business designing clothes that had taken off too quickly, requiring me to spend time in Los Angeles. Since my children were with their father two weeks of the month, I had rented a tiny studio in Topanga Canyon, a beautiful, peaceful, hippie enclave between the Valley and Malibu. I knew my only hope for sanity was in that canyon, but my lease was up and I had no money. My mother, terrified for my sanity, gave me the last month’s rent. I tossed out the meds, got into my car (against better judgment), and drove the four hours from Vegas to Topanga. On the way, I stopped at Whole Foods and bought at least three different natural sleep remedies with clear instructions on how to use them. The first few nights I tossed, sweated, and pitched. My meditation cushion was the only place I could find relief, so I was sure to sit on and off, even just for a few minutes, whenever I could drag myself out of bed. During the day, I forced myself to take short walks because I knew if I did things that were “normal,” eventually I would be. After four days and nights detoxing, I finally slept. Not soundly and not all the way through, but the spell was clearly broken. I was taking Valerian, a remedy called “Calms,” and melatonin.  By the end of the week, my nightmare seemed to be over. Months later, I realized I’d had a nervous breakdown. My nervous system was shot, and I suffered tremendous repercussions for well over a year. After that, my meditation practice grew stronger by the day. And, while my sleep improved, the rest of my life was still extremely challenged. My business failed badly. My former business partner sued me and put a lien on the house I had purchased with borrowed money. My ex-husband filed bankruptcy, which fell onto me. With no business, no income, and no way to sell my house because of the lien, I was looking at huge debt plus a mortgage I had no way of paying. I had very little alimony or child support. The relationship with my ex had become a battleground, littered with the torn parts of our once happy life. I had one choice: to step up or give up. I remember wondering, if I was having such a hard time getting through a divorce, how did people overcome the worst things imaginable?  How could a mother survive losing a child? I made up my mind to find out that answer and share it with others. I knew I could write but needed help with marketing. An ad on Craigslist led me to Angela Daffron, who ran a small marketing business. She was a stalking victim who had become an advocate for other victims. Angela’s story was devastating, and she clearly had become empowered through helping others. But I needed to understand surviving pain on an even deeper level. I tracked down Candace Lightner, whose fourteen-year-old daughter Cari was killed by a drunk driver with four prior convictions. Candace had led a one-woman, grassroots, pre-Internet crusade against drunk driving and founded MADD (Mothers Against Drunk Driving). Today, MADD has been estimated to have saved close to 600,000 lives. More recently, Candace had founded “We Save Lives,” another non-profit devoted to ending drugged, drunk, and distracted driving. I needed to know how Candace got out of bed the day after Cari was killed. I found her email online and reached out. Candace was incredibly generous with her time—that conversation was the first of many that evolved into a deep, lifelong friendship. Keeping others safe on the highway was Candace’s life’s mission, and she let nothing get in her way.  Cari’s life had to serve a purpose; through that, Candace discovered a path through her pain. I continued interviewing women who had been through hell and back, so I could learn. So I could share. So I could recover. A pattern emerged: Mary Griffith’s son Bobby was gay, and Mary could not accept him. Bobby killed himself by jumping off an overpass into ongoing traffic. Mary became one of the greatest LGBT advocates of her day. Eva Eger had been forced to dance for famed SS leader Joseph Mengele in Auschwitz. She survived the Holocaust but lost her entire family. Eva became a psychotherapist. Deanne Breedlove’s son Ben passed from heart disease at just eighteen years old. Before he died, unbeknownst to anyone, Ben made a video that shared a near death experience with all of the peace, love, beauty, and angels that he experienced. Ben passed on Christmas Day 2011. By the next morning, his video had gone viral around the world. Deanne devoted her days to volunteering at Dell Children’s Hospital, where Ben had spent so much of his life. She offers love and support to parents with sick and dying children. My learning continued. Writing stories about loss, rape, and homelessness with everything in-between, made it clear: Compassion was key to overcoming hardship. And, it wasn’t necessary to write a book, change laws, or start a non-profit. Compassion could mean showing up for anyone in some small way… even if that “anyone” was you. I became more compassionate. I meditated, spent more time in nature, and took better care of my body. I paid more attention to my roles as a daughter, sister, friend, and mother. I learned to pause and make sure that, if someone needed me, I was there. I became a much better listener, especially with my children. I was also fired up with the purpose of sharing what I had learned with others. With all of these changes, my outer world hadn’t yet caught up with my inner world. My spirit was stronger, but I was still struggling financially and emotionally. I still could not reconcile the mess I had made of my life.  I fell into the bad habit of continually beating myself up for my mistakes, spending sleepless nights doing the life review of all the ways I had messed up, over and over again. I also did not know that the unconscious mind cannot differentiate the past and the present.  Somewhere deep in my psyche I believed that difficulty sleeping meant I would go off the deep end again. The anxiety around sleep became worse than the insomnia itself. I went to a sleep specialist to ensure there was nothing physically wrong. My internist prescribed medication for when insomnia hit really hard. I found a hypnotherapist who helped re-train my subconscious. When I woke in the night, I meditated so my body could find rest. This time, sleep deprivation was not taking me down.  I was referred to a website called WIFE.org, which stands for the Women’s Institute for Financial Education. WIFE was the nation’s longest running non-profit devoted to female financial literacy. On the home page, I saw that, for $1, I could order a bumper sticker that read, “A Man is Not a Financial Plan.” In that moment, I understood that if I could personally help women through their divorces, I would survive. Two days later, I landed on co-founder Candace’s Bahr’s doorstep. She and her partner, Ginita Wall, were two of the nation’s greatest advocates in helping women become financially literate. They had also been running a workshop called “Second Saturday: What Every Women Needs to Know About Divorce” for almost twenty-five years. Second Saturday provided free legal, financial, and emotional advice for women in any stage of divorce, beginning with just thinking about it. I let Candace and Ginita know I was going to advocate, volunteer, and work for them. I told them they were “never getting rid of me.” Within one year, I raised enough money to help them roll Second Saturday out nationally. Three years later we had gone from two locations to over one hundred and twenty. Every Second Saturday, I bared my soul and told my awful tale to groups of women in the most vulnerable possible way I could. Just as I had been, they were terrified. I wanted them to know that they were not alone, and they would survive. I also wanted to let them know that their lives would unfold in remarkable ways. In sharing my darkest moments, I helped them get through theirs. From that space, my true healing began.   When I was helping others, I forgot my own pain. And, when I saw how my story helped others, my journey of forgiveness began, beginning with myself. With all of this new awareness and an amazing, supportive community, my struggles had less and less impact. I continued working with Candace and Ginita, and slowly but surely, my outer life began to shift.  I made art to soothe my soul and created a program to share artmaking with other women. My children were the true center of my world, and I made the most of every moment I had with them. I became more and more grateful for every part of my life, including—and especially—the struggles. Had I not gone through a terrible divorce, I never would have met Candace Lightner, Mary Griffith, Eva Eger, Deanne Breedlove, Candace and Ginita, and so many other remarkable people. I never would have helped thousands of women get through their own struggles. I would never have understood that we are all born with infinite gifts that we were meant to share with others. Insomnia had led to compassion and purpose. Eventually, I fell in love and married again. This time with a man who supported every part of my being, including my artist’s soul. My purpose in helping others transformed to our joint purpose: sharing the healing benefits of art. We founded “The Spread Your Wings Project,” a non-profit with a mission of being an uplifting response to the tragedies faced by our nation today. We are blessed to make massive pairs of angel wings in community with children. We are humbled and grateful to have worked with Dell Children’s Hospital, and the city of Las Vegas, in honor of lives lost on 10/1/17. Today, we are incredibly honored to be partnering with Dylan’s Wings of Change, a foundation borne of the Sandy Hook shooting. Ian Hockley lost his beautiful six-year-old Dylan on that tragic day. In Dylan’s honor, he founded DWC and “Wingman,” an educational curriculum that teaches children compassion, empathy, and inclusion. What could be more important than that? We are launching “Spread Your Wings with Wingman,” where we will build massive angel wings with schoolchildren across the country. What an incredible gift for someone who believed her life was worthless! Two weeks ago, I had a few rough nights. Instead of spiraling down the insanity vortex, my older, wiser self took over. I embraced my sleep struggles as a sign to practice more self-love. I slowed down. I listened to the trees. I created more boundaries with people and technology. I counted my blessings that everyone I love is healthy and well, at least in this moment. I sent more prayers and gratitude to the amazing people who, through their stories, helped me re-write mine. I dove into preparation for “Spread Your Wings with Wingman,” and remembered everything I learned, beginning with this: Compassion—beginning with self-compassion—is the key to a good night’s sleep. About Elizabeth Bryan-Jacobs Elizabeth Bryan-Jacobs is an artist and bestselling author of Chicken Soup for the Soul: Count Your Blessings and Soul Models: Transformative Stories of Courage and Compassion.  She founded “Creative Awakenings,” a transformational creativity program that she teaches nationally. She and her husband, artist Bobby Jacobs, founded “The Spread Your Wings Project,” a 501 (c) 3 to share the profound benefits of the arts and art therapy.  To learn more, visit  www.elizabethbryanjacobs.com and www.thespreadyourwingsproject.org. See a typo, an inaccuracy, or something offensive? Please contact us so we can fix it!

The Boundaries That Helped Me Stop Being a Doormat

“Boundaries are a part of self-care. They are healthy, normal, and necessary.” ~Doreen Virtue I’m really...

My Pain Was a Gift and a Catalyst for Growth

“Sometimes pain is the teacher we require, a hidden gift of healing and hope.” ~Janet Jackson I was becoming more and more confused as to what my feelings were toward my husband. Longing for that personal adult male connection, I started to feel trapped in my marriage. However, I still had a very strong sense of our family unit and my commitment to it. I wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize the family, even if it meant sacrificing my personal happiness. I made a conscious decision that my life was enough. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. However, within a few months, I knew in my heart that my husband and I were further apart emotionally than even I could accept or ignore any longer. I had to address it, but I had to do it carefully. I wanted to make sure my husband understood that I still loved him; we just needed to work on some things. I believed it would make both of us happier. I found time one night after dinner. We had just finished cleaning up the kitchen and were standing by the counter. The mood was relaxed and we had some privacy; the girls were busy working on their homework upstairs. It seemed as good a time as any. I took a deep breath and blurted out, “I think we are not as close as married people should be.” My husband looked at me funny, first a little quizzically as if he didn’t understand what he had just heard. Then his face relaxed and a look of release washed over it. His response shocked me to my core. “I agree,” he said with relief. “I haven’t loved you for a long time. I was just pretending.” “What? What did you just say?!?” I stammered, feeling as if I couldn’t catch my breath. His words were suffocating. I stood there, motionless, as a torrent of emotions raged inside of me. I looked into the eyes of the person I thought I knew completely, that I had trusted without question. A cold, damp feeling of dread came over me. He was the person I thought loved me unconditionally, the one that I had built my life with. What did he just say? Now, I wasn’t expecting flowers and chocolates. But I wasn’t expecting that. I was expecting his response to be more along the lines of “I agree. I feel it too. What can we do about it?” I was astonished. I was numb. I cried. I pleaded for some explanation. He had none. He said he would have gone on pretending forever, but since I dared to bring it up, he was able to finally be honest. We briefly tried marriage counseling, but his mind was made up. He didn’t love me. He was sorry. He felt guilty for the pain he was causing the girls and me, but he didn’t love me. We were divorced within the year. Everyone marveled at how civil we were. How well I was handling everything. I went into survival mode during the divorce proceedings. I had to protect my children emotionally. All of my strength went into doing that. I had to stay calm. I knew they were watching me. I tried not to argue. I tried to act normally. Really, I tried. I also had to financially protect myself and my children. There were so many things to think about. How could I stay in the house with the kids? They were in high school by then and I didn’t want to uproot them. How could I pay for college? We were just getting by with two salaries and one house. How could I make this work? We eventually figured the financial part out. In comparison, that turned out to be the easy part. He moved out, we got divorced, and then I fell apart. This experience exposed some very deep wounds within me. Wounds I had that for many years had been scabbed over. Deep, thick scabs that protected me and allowed me to pretend they weren’t there. Now, without warning, they had been ripped wide open. Wounds are funny things. We all have them. We respond from them, sometimes consciously, but many times not. They affect our thoughts and behaviors even when we’re not aware of it. If we look close enough we can even see others’ wounds in their actions. Some wounds can lie dormant for many years and only return to taunt us when we are faced with the very thing that wounded us. And the funniest thing of all is that wounds don’t heal on their own, regardless of how much we pretend they are not there. We have to heal them ourselves. My personal wounds had to do with self-love and my relationships with others. And they were deep, deeper than I had ever realized. When they resurfaced, I was surprised not only by their presence but by their intensity. There had been signs through the years, but they were easy enough to ignore. My wounds might surprise you. I believe most people consider me to be a smart, attractive, capable woman with many accomplishments in my life. “Capable” as a nice way to say assertive or a take-charge kind of woman. But there is also another side to me, a side that has deep-rooted feelings of not being “good enough” or not being “worth the effort”. My thoughts would go something like “I’m pretty, just not pretty enough. I’m thin, just not thin enough.” I’m smart, but intelligence wasn’t something celebrated in a girl growing up during the sixties and seventies. We were told to make sure we weren’t smarter than our future husbands, because men didn’t find smart women attractive, and God forbid of all things, don’t be capable. But the traits not celebrated were the ones I clung to. I believed they were all I had to offer. I was the smart and capable one. My intellect and the sheer force of my will allowed me to succeed in most endeavors. I became goal-oriented and proved my worth by accomplishing my goals. I never allowed myself to fail, because success was expected, it was the only thing that I believed validated me. That, however, didn’t translate into healthy personal relationships. I didn’t find value in myself as a whole person, so in turn, I never believed that the whole of me could be embraced, cherished, and loved. I was the only the “smart” and “capable” one. Why couldn’t I love myself? Why didn’t I feel I was worth the effort? Why didn’t I see the whole person and celebrate my strengths, laugh at my weaknesses, and cherish the little girl in me that was just doing the best she could? Eight years ago, I didn’t know. Today, after having lived through deep pain and more personal self-reflection and inner work than I care to admit, I believe I have some understanding of the larger journey. Pain was my catalyst. Deep, aching pain that stopped me in my tracks and made me choose between exiting this lifetime (yes, I considered it) and seeking deeper answers to heal the ball of hurt I had become. I chose to seek deeper answers and that was the beginning of my spiritual journey. Over the years I have learned to open my heart to myself and look at my experiences with a wider lens. I see my divorce and subsequent pain and depression as a gift that transformed my life and me along with it. I’ve traveled back into my childhood and identified the core trauma that I experienced that shaped the personality (the smart, capable, one) and the embedded belief (I had to succeed to have value) from the essence of who I am. That took a lot of work because the personality traits and beliefs we create are so intertwined into who we think we are that it is difficult to separate them, as they have been ‘us’ for our whole lives. In our defense, much of the ‘less than’ beliefs we hold are a result of the negative, punitive language that is deeply embedded in our religious and spiritual constructs. Many of us have come from a traditional religious belief system of ‘original sin and karma that we need forgiveness for’ and move to a spiritual belief system of ‘we need to learn our lessons and repeating our lessons until we finally get them.’ What if there is nothing to learn and no penance to do? What if everything in life is an experience for us to feel emotion and live from that deep space? That every emotion is an opportunity for us to expand our awareness and embrace the magnificence of who we are. Deep emotions shake us out of our complacent lives and spur us into action. In the experience is the emotion and in the emotion is the gift. Keep digging because the real you is in there. See a typo, an inaccuracy, or something offensive? Please contact us so we can fix it!

How to Reap the Benefits of Post-Traumatic Growth

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places.” ~Hemingway We all...

How I Climbed Out of the Valley of Loss and Healed

DisclaimerThis site is not intended to provide and does not constitute medical, legal, or other...

Guided Meditation

How to Do Less and Achieve Success

“Nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty…” – Theodore Roosevelt That’s one way of looking at things....

Healthy Habbits

Body Obsession: How My Weight Consumed My Life and Why I’m...

You are not a mistake. You are not a problem to be solved. But you won’t discover this until you are willing to stop...

7 Ways Mindfulness Improves Your Performance At Work

Can mindfulness improve your performance at work? Many businesses are embracing mindfulness and meditation training to help their employees. But what’s the actual benefit of mindfulness...

Self-Regulation for the Modern Day Mystic

In our modern era, it appears that stress and overwhelm have become a normalized baseline for most people. When we were younger, the majority of us probably...

An Exercise In Mindful Empowerment

It’s Not Supposed To Be This Way! How many times have you expressed this sentiment? It happens in gross and subtle ways all the time for...

The Life-Changing Benefits of Two-Minute Meditations

DisclaimerThis site is not intended to provide and does not constitute medical, legal, or other professional advice. The content on Tiny Buddha is designed...

New Tiny Buddha Shirts and iPhone Cases, Just in Time for...

Hi friends! I’m excited to share that I’ve recently launched a new selection of shirts and iPhone cases on Tiny Buddha, with five new designs—meaning...

A Guide to Peace for Anyone with a Crazy, Messed Up...

DisclaimerThis site is not intended to provide and does not constitute medical, legal, or other professional advice. The content on Tiny Buddha is designed...