I used to wake up every day wanting to die.

Not all of me wanted that. There were parts of me that wanted to live large, travel the world, be an entrepreneur, inspire others and make a real difference as a writer, teacher, philanthropist and all-round shift-disturber, starting and supporting projects that make the world better.

But this one loud and persistent part of me wanted nothing to do with any of that. It just wanted to die.

I’ve since nicknamed it The Party Pooper, because learning to make light of dark and uncomfortable things is half the reason I’m still here. Its point of view sounded something like this:

Meet: The Party Pooper

I hate this. (I hate everything.)
Life is too hard.
I don’t know how to do it.
I’m not doing enough, and I’ll never be able to do enough.
It’s never going to work out for me (so I might as well give up now).
I’m not enough and I’m never going to feel like I’m enough.
I don’t deserve to exist; I’m not doing anything special here.
I feel bad inside so that must mean I am bad.
(Why would I feel bad unless there’s something wrong with me?)
Life can’t be trusted; it keeps letting me down.
If there is a god, it’s surely disappointed in me.
Even if it’s not, I’m disappointed in me.
(While we’re at, I’m pretty pissed at god too!)
I’m always tired; I’m too lazy.
I don’t like who I am. I want to be someone else….
Someone who’s more functional, more productive, more carefree.
I’m too sad. No one likes sad people.
I’m too angry. No one likes angry people.
I’m always going to be sad and angry so I might as well just die.

Cheerful, right?

(Perhaps you have one of these parts inside you too? Many people do. And my condolences.)

This part had me hiding out in my then-bachelor apartment, listening to Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah on repeat. And while it’s one of the most beautiful songs ever recorded, it wasn’t what I needed.

I was caught up in reverse culture shock after having recently returned from a 7-month backpacking trip through Southeast Asia. I’d gone there on an epic quest to find happiness, and had experienced huge personal breakthroughs, keeping detailed journals with a plan to write a book. But then I returned to “regular life”, which promptly sucked all that newfound wisdom out of my brain, leaving a vacuum, and the Party Pooper filled it. So when I started typing up my 10+ journals with stories about all the brilliant things I’d learned, it felt ridiculous because…depressed and writing a book about happiness?

Yeah. No.

It didn’t help that I had just dated yet another confused man-boy who poured on the charm for weeks, then transformed into Iceman. I spent the worst New Year’s Eve of my life (and I’ve had some doozies) dogsledding with him in Quebec, -30 and he wouldn’t even share his sleeping bag with me, or translate anything anyone said (he spoke French; I didn’t). When he finally left for Asia, after I’d sent him off with a special gift I’d spent a week making by hand (because…idiot), I realized that I’d allowed myself to become consumed with yet another person who didn’t give a rat’s ass about me. And I lost it.

Or I should say, another part of me I’ll call The Punisher lost it. To really get a feel for the ugliness of this scene, first imagine the Party Pooper bawling in front of the mirror, when suddenly The Punisher steps in, screaming with such spectacular power and force that I lost my voice the next day:

Meet: The Punisher

I hate you! You’re an idiot.
What’s wrong with you?
Why do you always do this?
Why are you so stupid?
I hate you! (I hate you! I hate you! etc.)
I won’t let you do this again!
No more falling in love!
You are not capable of loving anyone without destroying yourself!

(You probably—hopefully—have a less mean version of this inside you that picks on you when you make mistakes; let’s call it “The Critic”.)

Honestly, I’m surprised my neighbours didn’t call the cops. Because along with the crazy-ass screaming, I was also smashing things. My makeup lay in a million pieces on the bathroom floor, alongside whatever shards remained of my self respect.

Not my finest moment. But, it led to a great turning point.

Because as negative and unpleasant as the Punisher was, for once it had a point. I did not know how to love my self, therefore, it was dangerous for me to fall in love with others. I was always expecting them to complete me (Thanks Jerry McGuire, for effing up women everywhere with that stupidly fabulous romantic scene. Sigh. It WAS fabulous though, wasn’t it?).

So…I decided to try something completely different.

I married my best friend, who I truly did love, but was not “in love” with (and he was not “in love” with me either). I know this sounds like a recipe for disaster (my friends all said so) but, strangely, it was perfect. Because now I HAD to fill in the holes in my own heart. I could not fill that emptiness with Cinderella-like fantasies.

We called it a “spiritual marriage”, because we saw it like a sangha of two people. We were both on intensive spiritual paths, doing hours of meditation together every day, genuinely caring about each other without the drama of needing to fulfill the usual fantasies of who we needed to be. I must admit, we were naive and thought that, eventually, we would fall in love, like people sometimes do in arranged marriages. (That didn’t happen, but for a few years it was still a very beautiful thing.)

Meanwhile, another super pushy part of me showed up to kick the Party Pooper’s ass into gear. It had breezed in and out of my life many times over the years, saving me from an otherwise probable future as a couch potato, and forming a good chunk of my identity. It’s the “Do-Gooder”. And don’t let its fluffy name fool you, because it’s a force to be reckoned with.

Meet: The Do Gooder

This sadness stuff is just selfish.
Get showered, get dressed and get over yourself.
There are millions of people in this world who have no money and live in shacks, and you’ve actually met some of them.
There are millions more living in war zones who never feel free or safe.
All these people would give anything to spend five minutes living your cushy life.
They don’t have the luxury of self pity, so cut it out.
We have a duty to appreciate what we have and do what we can for others.
So quit that crying and let’s go help some people who are worse off.
When we help other people, we feel good.
You think it’s noble to feel sad for all the suffering in the world,
But really it’s just an excuse to hide from the world.
Let’s dedicate our life to helping others.
That will pull us out of this self-indulgent funk.

This part talked me into co-founding a children’s education charity with projects in Laos and India—and I’m grateful to it, because it’s one of the things I’m most proud of in my life. I ran this charity for five years in between bouts of debilitating depression and anxiety, while these three conflicting parts of me duked it out.

But while the Do-Gooder was way more motivating and arguably more useful to society than the Party Pooper, it still wasn’t an ideal part to have in charge of me. Since it was driven more by guilt, duty and responsibility than joy, it was exhausting.

Even more tiring was the ongoing war between the Party Pooper, the Do-Gooder and the Punisher. When my marriage finally ended (amicably, when we both realized it had run its course), we had to shut down the charity we’d co-founded. Guess who was there waiting for me to celebrate that high point in my life?

The Party Pooper

You see? I told you so.
Nothing works for us in the end, so why bother?
Sure the charity helped a bunch of kids, and that was nice,
but what do we have to show for it now?
We’re broke. We’re single again. We’re old.
We’re burned out; running that charity was too much work.
And what are we gonna do now?
We’re not a respected journalist anymore—
We haven’t published an article in years.
And these corporate workshops we’re running…
That needs to stop.
It’s too scary getting up in front of those people.
You know we never sleep the night before we teach.
It’s exhausting making sure everything is perfect.
(And you know the Punisher needs it all to be perfect!)
I don’t want to do any of this anymore.
This whole life thing is too hard.
I quit. I’m done.

This part convinced me spend the month following my separation curled up in bed in a self-pity coma. I barely ate. I avoided people. I didn’t know what to say. I was no longer a wife. I was no longer executive director of a children’s charity.

At least I had finally published my book, Help Me, Asia, to great reviews from readers, and I WAS proud of it…but I felt like a fraud at the thought of marketing it, so I didn’t. It was a book exploring the roots of happiness, and my life was collapsing.

What you need to know is that I had worked on this book for 10 years, the whole while imagining it would become a bestseller and change the trajectory of my life. It didn’t. So now what?

Suddenly, I had no identity, no new desires and therefore no direction. The Party Pooper wrapped its familiar arms around me, and I leaned into its sad, bitter embrace. Fortunately…

The Do Gooder

…saw a golden opportunity. It made its pitch:

Look, it said,
We’ve read over a hundred spiritual books.
Happiness comes from giving ourselves away to others, right?
Like your hero, Mother Theresa.
All this pain is just ego.
It’s time to get rid of this ego thing, once and for all.
Let’s go big. Let’s spend a year just giving our self away.
No status. No accolades. No running anything. No leadership roles.
We’ll just help other people who are doing good things.
And we’ll take no credit.
This will also be an experiment in testing the power of intention.
Y’know, like in that book you love so much by Wayne Dyer.
We’ll do good things for others, and in return we’ll trust that the Universe will take care of us.
The money we need to pay the rent will just show up.
Let’s do this thing! It’ll be great!

It sounded crazy. But I was bored of self pity, and I’ve always been a sucker for life experiments. I committed myself to the plan and called it “The Year of Giving Myself Away.”

I volunteered for two seniors lunch programs and a community café; I created communications plans and organized conferences for small organizations trying to build a better world; I helped plant a vegetable garden for a youth detention centre; I signed up for a travellers club called Couchsurfing and showed people from different countries around the city. All for free.

For money, I just trusted in “the Universe” to take care of me. Yes, I know that sounds bat-shit crazy. It was the hardest part of the whole experiment because the Party Pooper thought it was crazy too. Every day it set off the crisis alarm (which felt like I’d mainlined caffeine +  my chest was being crushed from the inside).

The Party Pooper

This is dangerous! You are putting us in mortal danger!
Stop this nonsense right now and get us a nice, safe job.
We can find something that helps kids, so we’re making a difference.
And we’ll have money and an identity again!
This experiment is horrible and stupid.
It’s never gonna work; we’ll end up living on the street!
(Then we’ll going to have deal with the Punisher
telling us what an idiot and a failure we are!)

But the Party Pooper was wrong. This Universe did take care of me.

Out of the blue, a friend who had volunteered for my charity contacted me on Facebook to offer me some contract work doing copywriting for his digital agency. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was enough to keep me alive.

One thing I haven’t told you yet, which is pretty damn important, is that, all this time, I was meditating daily. I did my first 10-day silent mindfulness meditation retreat in 2001 in Thailand, but it wasn’t until I did my second retreat in 2004 that I committed to practicing every day, sometimes for hours a day. And that changed everything.

Thanks to this practice, I developed the ability to watch my self, and all its parts, from a distance, like watching a character in a novel or a movie. This hobbled their power over me; I felt lighter, happier. That’s when a new part showed up—a part that felt unusually wise and caring, and refreshingly practical. It was of me but it also wasn’t. I called it my Higher Self. It said things like this:

The Higher Self

Look, no point sitting around dreaming about offing yourself
Since you’re going to die eventually anyway.
No one gets out of here alive, so save yourself the trouble.
Might as well do something with the little time you’ve got here before your time’s up, no?
Sure you think your life is always going to be horrible, but how do you know?
You don’t. And anyway it isn’t.
You feel horrible inside, but that’s just a feeling.
Feeling bad inside sometimes
Doesn’t mean you are bad.
What it means is that someone said something or did something to you in the past
That led to you believing that there was something wrong with you.
This bad feeling is just letting you know that you are still believing
In something that cannot possibly be true.
Yes, feeling bad always (always!) means that you’re believing in something that isn’t true.

So maybe you should stop believing in those thoughts, no?
Why not at least try to have some fun while you’re here?
Why not explore who you are and what you like,
then create and do some stuff you enjoy?
There are so many experiences you can have.
This world is a buffet of new experiences,
And you came here to sample that buffet.
At least try it out and see what you like.
Maybe you like this better than that. Okay fine.
Maybe you fit better with these people than those people.
That’s not a crime, y’know.
You don’t need to feel bad about
not doing or being what other people want.
They’re them. You’re you.
Earth’s a big place. Diversity is good.
You came here to explore who you are and
What you want to express in this world.
So why don’t you at least give it a shot?

I liked this new part. It felt true. The more I trusted in and listened to it, the more things worked out for me.

But after years of trying to align with this part, my Higher Self, I had the realization I was missing some important piece of the puzzle. Because while this part could show me glimpses of joy during meditation retreats, it never lasted. This is where so many people on spiritual paths get it all wrong. They align with their Higher Self, and unwittingly end up using it to feel spiritually noble, and often superior to others, while deep down there’s still an emptiness begging to be filled inside them.

This is because our real self is still being ignored–The True Self. The Higher Self is only a guidance counsellor for your journey; it is not something you can align with. NO, joy comes from uncovering and aligning with the True Self.

The True Self

…doesn’t really talk.

It’s an essence that gets expressed through our Child Self,
when that self feels whole and safe.
So, often, the only way to connect with our True Self
is to start a loving dialogue with our Child Self.
It is who we were before other people convinced us we were not enough.
It’s the essence that gets expressed through whoever we happen to be in this lifetime.
It loves creating, exploring, playing, learning, relating
and expanding its understanding of life and itself.
It has preferences, for sure.
But those are always changing based on any new experiences.
It’s not permanently attached to any idea, person or thing.
It is pure unlimited potential, and it longs to explore that potential.
It is that aliveness you felt as a child while tumbling down a hill.
That joy you feel for no reason on a beautiful sunny day.
That thrill you feel when you’re about to do something new.
Or when you master something for the very first time.
It delights in having an effect on the world around it.
And it loves bringing joy to others.

Developing a connection with this part of my self is what finally made it possible for me to love my life. But not because it’s perfect. Oh no. Don’t be thinking that.

I’m still an anxious, introverted human being with plenty of quirks and eccentricities, but I’m learning to embrace them.

For example, some part of me thinks it’s fabulous to stay up late, and I’m talking 3-4 am—so don’t even think about setting up a meeting with me before 11 am. And my other parts are still kicking around causing occasional mayhem, but I regularly remind them that the True Self is now driving. I do my best to make them feel loved and welcome (after all, they’re just trying to help), but they have to ride in the backseat.

No. Joy is not about meeting our rules and expectations of how things should be. That’s where we’ve got it all wrong. It’s about throwing all those rules and expectations out the window, trusting that the True Self has a better idea, and having the courage to go on that adventure.

It’s not for the faint of heart, because this part of us is about constant expansion—it’s whole r’aison d’etre is to explore its highest potential, whatever that may be. But it is who we really ARE beneath the weight of all those rules and expectations, and when we throw that weight away–only then can we taste real joy, that frisky aliveness we once knew as a child, rolling around on the grass or running through an open field simply because we could.

The True Self does not close the door to new possibilities, and because I learned that, my life purpose became clear. Now I get paid to be my self, helping others untangle their parts so they can trust in and be guided by their True Self.

And my life, while not always easy, is never, ever boring, because new opportunities and possibilities just keep showing up. It’s both magical and uncomfortable, because I’m not being who my old parts think I need to be. I’m trusting my Self. And that is an effing radical thing in this world, let me tell ya.

Which Self Will You Trust?

Will it be your False Self, in one of its many forms,
Because that’s what feels safe and familiar
Even when it doesn’t feel good?

Or will it be the “True” part of you
Which will boldly ask you
To commit to loving all parts of you,
To let go of all you currently assume to be true,
To be courageous, and go against what others expect of you,
And what you’ve learned to expect of yourself,
So that you can become all that you have the potential to be?

In the name of truth, joy and magical adventures, my dearest hope for you is that you’ll…

Rise up and shine as your True Self,

Shawn xo

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