I didn't smile for a long time. I regret that

For a long period of time, maybe 15 years, I hated my wonky, misaligned teeth so much I used to put my hand in front of my face whenever I smiled. This became so automatic that when I finally got my teeth straightened at the age of 30, it took months of training to stop hiding my smile; the habit was that ingrained.

Friends, a smile is not a thing to be suppressed. It is the thing you do that makes you shine. It is the thing you do that makes a big impact on other people. It is the thing you do that improves your mood (it’s true – research shows it alters your brain activity in a way that’s consistent with a lift in mood). 

I’m annoyed at myself for hiding such a major part of what makes me sparkle for so long. And for such a painfully petty reason. I remember I even developed a ‘camera smile’ (this was in the days before digital photography, when it was much easier to avoid the camera) that didn’t involve opening my mouth! As you can probably imagine, it did not look even remotely warm nor sincere.

Remember late last year when Kim Kardashian said she avoids smiling because it causes wrinkles? There was an English woman interviewed on TV the other night who stopped smiling as a youngster for the same reason. She’s 50 now, which means she has not smiled for 40 years! I almost feel sorry for her that she’s had such a muted life. Of course, just because she’s not smiling doesn’t mean she’s unhappy – but really, what sort of happiness is that which cannot be fully and naturally expressed, and must be guarded as if it were a dangerous animal that might escape and wreak havoc?

I’m only guessing here, but I imagine that no one has ever got to the end of their life and regretted smiling and laughing so much. And as far as the wrinkle situation goes, I think Audrey Hepburn said it best when she declared that happy girls are the prettiest. 

Everyday heroes. I wanna see you be brave!

Following on from my post about non-conformity, I’ve been thinking more about bravery, and what it looks like. The reason for this: recently in my part of the world there was a news story about the survivors of the December 2014 Sydney Siege possibly receiving bravery medals as recognition of their ordeal. This sparked some public debate, with a prominent politician suggesting simply being a victim of crime, as horrific as this event was, didn’t come under the banner of bravery, and that medals should be reserved for extraordinary acts of heroism. I’ve no intention of wading into that particular debate, but I would like to riff on what the word ‘bravery’ actually describes, and whether I need to reframe my understanding of this powerful word.

To me, bravery is in the everyday choices we make to overcome Fear. The unfit woman who chooses to go to that gym class even though her inner-saboteur is telling her it won’t make any difference. The journalist who conducts interviews every day despite a stutter occasionally sneaking in and testing his composure. My sister, who is disabled, and dyes her hair blood red – because, she reasons, people are staring at her anyway.

I’ll never forget a conversation I once had with a friend who had thrown in her six-figure-salary job in IT to go to medical school for six years, which made her a poor student until she was well into her 30s. I told her I thought she was incredibly courageous, and her response floored me. She remarked that it wasn’t an act of bravado but of desperation. She had been miserable and felt she simply could not continue to live the way she had been living. I thought she had made a brave choice; she felt she had had no choice at all. As I pointed out to her, plenty of people feel disappointed with their lives but do nothing about it. They decide to accept the status quo rather than take the gamble of changing it. Deciding to make a change is brave, and worthy of applause.

What does bravery look like to you? I’d love to hear your thoughts. 

Super-charged moons

What's better than the regular moon? The moon with super powers, that's what!

Thought I'd share this intriguing article about the supermoon tonight, and why it's so significant. Even if astrology isn't really your thing, it's worth taking this opportunity to really think about what you want to achieve this year. Because tonight would be a VERY good time to put that out to the Universe.

Read this article to find out more.

The outsiders

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the bravery that’s involved in standing out and being different. Maybe it’s not brave for some people, but for me it sure feels that way. This is an ongoing challenge for me, because when I reveal that I communicate with angels I’m instantly identifying myself as different. And that’s not something I’m comfortable with.

The desire to fit in and blend in is a long-held safety mechanism for me. 

It goes back to primary school when I was bullied, which is when I learned that being different was a weakness, and consequently made you vulnerable. My strategy was to put my head down and hide as much as possible in the hopes no one would notice me. This was the genesis of the crippling shyness I am still occasionally shackled by (although I’m working hard at ensuring that I don’t let it hold me back as much as it has in the past). Even though this was decades ago and my safety is no longer at risk, that lesson, and the terror that encases it, has stayed with me. I know that there is no actual danger in owning my spiritual side, but still, I struggle with this. Another contributing factor is that I grew up in conservative New Zealand, where anyone who doesn’t fit the married-with-2.4-kids-and-a-white-picket-fence-in-the-suburbs model (and doesn’t want to) is regarded with some suspicion.

Instagram is littered with a trillion inspirational quotes urging us to be ourselves, to be who we truly are, to own it, to Be yonce (whoops, that doesn’t really belong in there, but it seems wrong to delete it). Case in point, this gem: ‘Why are you trying so hard to fit in when you were born to stand out?’ Trite but true. And yet...

I’m acutely aware that what makes each one of us different is a key ingredient in our recipe for success. Last year I attended a discussion with Karen Walker and Mikhail Gherman (of the fashion label Karen Walker) about being outsiders and how they used that to their advantage. They said they didn’t go against the grain with their designs because they saw a gap in the market – they did it because it was who they were. They couldn’t do or be anything else.

This morning at the gym, among a sea of Lululemon singlets and sleek yoga pants, a guy strolled onto the treadmill with lime-green hair (like, tennis-ball colour), lollipop-pink socks up to his knees, and blue and white polka-dot shorts. At first I thought he was ridiculous, then I checked myself and realised that his non-conformity was something to admire. My initial discomfort was a response to my own fears about standing out. Which have nothing to do with him, and everything to do with me.  

The more market stalls I do and the more widely-read this blog becomes (which I’m told is destined to happen, eeek!) the more I’m going to have to own my spiritual geekery. Which means standing out. Which is terrifying. What I find interesting is that even though I know the worst-case scenario (so I might get judged by people who aren’t open to spiritual concepts... so what?!) isn’t actually that bad, the stranglehold that Fear has over me is still very strong. Unravelling that is going to take a lot of time and self-talk, I suspect.  Luckily being different is a vastly less dangerous now than it is in those merciless primary school years. I just have to keep reminding my subconscious - the part that wants to protect me - of that.

Words with friends, and with yourself

Words are hugely important to me. (I know that sounds ridiculously obvious, but bear with me – I am going somewhere with this.) Not only are words my currency (I’m a writer by trade), they’re my vehicle for interpreting the world. I’ve worked with a lot of designers who are primarily visual – they see the world in colours and shapes. Me, my frame of reference is words, both spoken and written.

 

I’m starting to understand more and more how the words I use, internally and externally, are creating my world more than they are reflecting it. Today I read an intriguing scientific study which found that all languages skew towards the use of happy words. The author notes: “This confirms the 1969 Pollyanna Hypothesis that there is a universal human tendency to ‘look on and talk about the bright side of life.’”



What this means is that we’ve been given the tools to be predominantly upbeat, optimistic people. Which is not to say that we should be happy *all* the time – you’re unlikely to want to bust out your biggest smile when someone rear-ends your car – but that the path of least resistance is to be positive, overall, even in the face of adversity. However, if you actually start to think about the types of sentences you utter on the reg, you’ll probably find – as I have – that they are predominantly negative. Oh.

 

Aaaaaaaand research also shows that even looking at a negative word for a few seconds is enough to release stress chemicals in your brain. Sad face.

 

The more I practice mindfulness, the more aware I am of the frequency that negative words pass through my brain and my lips. I’m making a habit of reshaping those. I’m not saying I’m ever going to be able to eliminate negativity completely – hello, I live in the real world! – but I think the more often I can reframe my mindset, the better. As noted in a previous post, the law of attraction means negative words and thoughts draw negative experiences into my world. Ain’t nobody got time for that shit.

 

Worth thinking about, right?