On Asking for Help

I come from a long line of people who often say "I'm fine." It's genetic, I think, because it's taken twenty-two years for me to realize that there are times when I'm really not okay, and that sometimes I really do need help.

I remember being in the midst of a deluge of crappy things about a year ago, feeling so unanchored and so overwhelmed. It was one of the most difficult periods of my life so far, and it had gotten to a point where I knew I had to stop internalizing all of the stress and the heartache and the confusion if I wanted to continue (or maybe go back to) being a fully-functioning human. It was out of my comfort zone and I mentally went back and forth on the decision dozens of times, but I finally reached out to a number of therapists. I remember emailing a few different individuals, palms sweating and full of self-doubt and embarrassment at my admission of needing help. I'll never forget a line in the response email from the therapist I ended up choosing: ". . . sometimes you need somebody that's not a friend or family member to throw you a life saver." The image made perfect sense to me. I've always been a private person, and feared that I would be burdening others if I unloaded my weights on them. So there I was, treading water and not being sure what to do or who to call when I was tossed some help. I felt relief just picturing the scene.

In retrospect, seeking help through therapy was one of the best decisions I've ever made. I often joke with my sister that I'm going to start gifting everyone I know therapy for birthdays and Christmas gifts (and if I had the money I truly would). Therapy in all its forms is pretty stigmatized—I experienced that first-hand when I realized how sheepish I was to seek it out, how quiet I've been about it since, and how queasy I've been about sharing it here. And herein lies the problem. What have we done to make asking for help, whether it's from a therapist, or from Mom or Dad or Grandma, or from a best friend or a total stranger, or from the Universe itself, something to be ashamed of?

In the words of Monica Potter, "You have to have help—people with the same vision as you and people you trust."

I recently had a delicious conversation with a colleague and friend that has worked as a therapist for decades. He described an exercise that can help when we're feeling discouraged or embarrassed or in need of help (a.k.a. when we're being human) and my heart nearly exploded I loved it so much. Try it right now: Think of something that you're currently struggling with, then think of someone in your life—living or deceased, near or far—that you love and admire. If you can't think of a particular person, create one in your mind. Imagine sharing what you're currently struggling with with this person or being. Imagine that someone not being irritated or annoyed or confused by you. Imagine them with complete serenity, understanding and compassion, loving you wildly even when you're in this horribly stuck place. No judgment, no condemnation. What would they say to you?

That exercise feels like a warm cup of tea to me, and I've found that practicing it in my mind emboldens me to speak up, or at least to tell the truth when somebody asks me how I'm doing. (I also want to write "love wildly" all over everything.) I have a friend that often says, "How are you really doing?" It sort of gives me a kick in the butt to be real, and to trust that there are listening ears and open hearts and cozy shoulders waiting for me to sometimes say, "Not that great."

Pssst, here's more:

This post by Joanna Goddard illustrates all of this quite perfectly. The comments made my heart melt.

In my humble opinion, Humans of New York is one of the best things to happen to humanity in the 21st century. Following photographer Brandon Stanton on social media turns my world around and upside down on a regular basis, and I can't get enough of it. It helps me to understand that all of us suffer and that nobody is perfect, myself included.

If you're considering therapy: Finding a therapist that's a good fit for you can sometimes be a discouraging experience, but I promise you they are out there! I highly recommend GoodTherapy.org in your search. Do your best to research potential therapists' backgrounds and approaches, then have an honest conversation about what you're experiencing. Don't be afraid to test out a few—finding someone with an approach that gels with your needs can be positively life-changing.

In case you missed it, read this post about being your own worst enemy or your own best friend.

May the (love)force be with you.

(Artwork by Sarah Walton)

What's a Coachella?

The idea for this blog originated (literal) years ago. You could say the inspiration for it arose as my younger self waded through teenagehood, mostly unanchored and with a lot of unanswered questions about who I was and where I was going. In that regard, it wasn't terribly different from most teenagehoods—some regrets here, some rebellion there. But most of all, I felt like I was grasping for some sort of guidance that didn't exist the way that I needed it to. And it was paradoxical, as so many things are, because the last thing I wanted was to be told what to do, yet I yearned for some sort of outlet or resource where I could at least learn more about the options I had in growing up and becoming somebody.

I created Love Force because I wanted to create the space that I needed so desperately a decade ago, and often still need now. Because I know that I'm not the only woman—human—in the world that's seeking to thrive.

But what's a love force?

Before I tell you that, I need to tell you about India in the early 20th century. Mahatma Gandhi was leading a movement of non-violence seeking Indian independence from British rule. It was throughout these years that he developed the philosophy of satyagraha. The word satyagraha is a compound of the Sanskrit words satya (meaning "truth") and agraha (meaning "to grasp or hold"). Satya is derived from the word "sat", which means "being". Together, satyagraha came to be understood as adherence to, or pursuit of truth. But its application expanded beyond non-violence. In his own words, Gandhi described: "Truth (satya) implies love, and firmness (agraha) engenders and therefore serves as a synonym for force. I thus began to call the Indian movement Satyagraha, that is to say, the Force which is born of Truth and Love . . ." (M.K. Gandhi, Satyagraha in South Africa). Satyagraha became a "truth-force", a "love-force" and a "soul-force" that inspired the likes of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Nelson Mandela in their quests for the betterment of humanity. In a 2006 interview, Gandhi's grandson Arun Gandhi explained, "My grandfather believed that truth should be the cornerstone of everybody's life and that we must dedicate our lives to pursuing truth, to finding out the truth in our lives. And so his entire philosophy was the philosophy of life. It was not just a philosophy for conflict resolution, but something that we have to imbibe in our life and live it all the time so that we can improve and become better human beings."

Inspired by satyagraha, Love Force is about truth, and about being alive, and about what those two things mean for us (both individually and collectively) when they're intertwined together. Though this blog likely won't liberate a nation or turn the tide of oppressive tyranny, it will serve as a space for readers and participants to pursue their truth, to improve and to become better human beings. Because love is the most powerful force in the world.