Never Broken: Songs Are Only Half the Story (44 page)

Be an Every Day Angel.
Nothing saves us from our own misery like community service or helping a friend. Be less self-centered by thinking. Give to charity, donate time, learn about how other people live. Your self-esteem will be genuinely bolstered as you give to others, and it will also help bring gratitude to your heart, as it will inevitably remind you of how much you have to be grateful for.

Embrace imperfection.
Life is a journey and there is no destination. There is nothing static to life. Employing rigid standards inhibits growth and makes you unhappy. Remove the armor that weighs you down and cuts you off from your joy. Instead, learn where safety exists for you, in the process of accepting yourself and others as they are right now. Be brave—be more open, more yielding, more transparent.

Give internal permission.
To be the kind of person you want to be and live the kind of life you want, the only person you need permission from is you. No one is standing in your way but you. Give yourself permission to be as radical as you need to live the life you want. Be bold in all the parts of your being. Be as silly, serious, seductive, or spiritual as you want in any given moment—or all at once! Invite your whole self to the table. The hurt child, the brave, the shy. Don’t let shame, fear, or doubt cause you to self-edit in an effort to find approval in any other person. When you give yourself permission to be the sum of all your parts, you will be amazed to find that others do as well. You don’t need anyone’s permission to be exactly who you want to be.

Stay sensitive.
By numbing pain you also numb your ability to experience joy. If someone or something has hurt you, don’t be hurt twice by choosing to limit your ability to ever experience trust or joy again. Being vulnerable in the world may cause you to feel pain, but you are strong and can let it pass. It will not defeat you. Let your emotions do what they are best at: communicating how safe, happy, and fulfilled you are in your life. If you cut yourself off from your feelings, your soul has no feedback system, and you will be deprived of that deeper sense of satisfaction and purpose every day.

Let go of shame.
Shame does nothing but drown us in that which we wish to be free from. Communication is the antithesis of shame. Give your worst fears a voice—speak out loud your deepest, most shameful thoughts. None of us have a secret shame that others don’t share in the world. Find out that you are deserving of love despite your flaws. Find a notebook or a loving friend to be truly seen by. We cannot change what we are unwilling to bring into the light of day.

What’s simple is true.
We are so busy looking for and working toward the things that will make us happy that we blow right by our actual happiness, thinking surely it must be more complicated. But often the things that make us truly happy are much simpler: sitting quietly under a tree. Being present with your child while you read a book to them. Living in a smaller home, perhaps, so you can work less and have more quality time with your family. Doing fewer “enrichment” activities so that you and your children can experience the joy of play. Peace and patience are learned by practicing.

Choose love.
You can boil down all interactions to two categories: ones that grow love and ones that diminish it. Choose love. Do not choose how to behave based on who is in front of you. Choose because it is a value you hold in high esteem and because it is how you want to experience your own life. Choose love.

If you want to be a warrior for change and mindfulness, visit my website, Jeweljk.com, where I break down each of my guiding principles into simple challenges you can apply to your own life. We are never broken. Join the community.

My grandfather Yule, photographed by my grandmother Ruth.
(Courtesy Kilcher Family Trust)

My grandmother Ruth and Yule. I look a lot like her.
(Courtesy Kilcher Family Trust)

Ruth, holding Sunrise, and Yule with (left to right) Fay; my dad, Atz; Wurtilla; and Mairiis (who we call Mossy).
(Courtesy Kilcher Family Trust)

Ruth and Yule, the poet and the philosopher, both cut from the same pioneering fabric.
(© William Wakeland, Courtesy Kilcher Family Trust)

My dad, Atz, and his sister Fay.
(Courtesy Kilcher Family Trust)

My mother, Nedra, at about age seventeen.

My dad’s portrait from the army, age twenty.

Me, at the piano early. I didn’t get the hang of playing instruments until much later, but it didn’t keep me from trying.

My parents.