Many of us carry a burden that consumes a lot of energy: we feel responsible for the happiness of others, even when it’s not our job to worry about that.

The phenomenon comes in many shapes, and often goes back to early childhood experiences and the role we played in the family.

One of my clients, let’s call her Rose, became aware of her own dynamic after a visit with her mother, who she hadn’t seen in many years.

She was the oldest child in the family and wasn’t just expected to take care of her younger brothers when she got older, she was also the designated person to sooth her mother, who constantly worried about the two boys and how they would make their way.

Later in life, Rose got used to taking responsibility for her siblings’ monetary problems, since they seemed incapable of holding a job and planning for their own financial security.

Her brothers’ inability to take care of themselves became a heavy burden, and it took years for her to develop the courage to end their emotional and financial dependency of her.

But the same kind of burden can arise even in families where one child was rejected and seemingly released of the responsibility to please one or both parents.

Alcoholics Anonymous utilize the infamous term of the “higher power,” which is ordinarily meant to describe God.

Lots of people feel that there isn’t one. How would a God who dwells somewhere outside of our existence allow all these terrible things, that humankind is afflicted by, to happen?

But there is an alternative concept to the divine that cannot be found in the bible: It is the extraordinary inside of us.

When I read a post on Christina Stapleton’s blog today, it struck me that she speaks not of a, but of “my higher power.” Her higher power is hers. I don’t know what it means to her, but if it ever was separate from her own being, it sounds to me like it has at some point become a part of herself.

Finding one’s own truth and expressing it is the most important path to heal damaged self-esteem, and to live a meaningful life.

We all are such phonies – from time to time. We compliment the neighbor on their new flower bed, even though we find it hideous. We agree with a new boss, although he has no idea what he’s talking about. We lend support to a desperate friend, when we know that all that can be done is to accept the loss.

So many of us have learned how to please others and don’t even know what our own stance looks like. Or worse, we know exactly what is looks like and can’t find the courage or the heart to be sincere about it.

We so often want to protect another person from hurt that we start bending our own convictions.

Honesty does not have to be brutal. It can be spoken earnestly and with warmth, without giving in to anger or inflicting needless pain.

Beauty, said the late the Irish writer and poet John O’Donohue, is the place inside of us that is not wounded. That is free and expansive and unburdened by the sorrow we carry around from our past.

“Your identity is not equivalent to your biography,” is his message. There is a place is all of us “where there is still a sureness in you, where there’s a seamlessness in you and where there is a confidence and tranquility in you.”

I love this image of a place of peace that lies within all of us. We don’t have to go and find it somewhere else. We don’t have to pay hundreds of dollars to visit a wellness resort or buy happiness by going on a shopping spree. We don’t have to look to someone else to give us something we think we need.

We already have it. We just don’t pay attention to it.

Everybody who has ever had an anxiety attack knows how hard it is to reign in thoughts during such an episode. We completely buy into whatever frightens us.

Sometimes, people don’t even know that they are having an anxiety attack and instead get caught up in the physical symptoms that come with it.

They freak out over heart palpitations and sweaty palms, and with increasing fear the chest starts to feel tight and before they know it, some people worry about having a heart attack.

If you are prone to having anxiety that gets out of hand quickly (and the same goes for anger too), it’s important to intercept it as soon as possible. Most of the time, the fear revolves around a certain topic. What kind of situations tend to get you into trouble? What are the thoughts that come with it? How do the worries tend to spiral out of control?

So often we get caught up waiting for something big to happen so we can finally feel ready to make a change.

“Once I have my college degree I will go out and take charge of my life.”

“As soon as my daughter is out of the house, I can start taking care of myself.”

“I can make new friends as soon as my social anxiety is gone.”

Thus are the hindrances of the mind that prevent us from living life. We keep waiting for some important outside event that will enable us to get going, and jolt us out of our passivity.

But we don’t have to wait. We can start any time. In a small way.

So many of us feel starved for support and attention. We feel alone, and riddled by doubts about what we should do and who we should be. We constantly obsess about what is lacking from our lives.

How many of us have woken up in the wee hours of the morning, anxious and in the grip of fear. “I shouldn’t have said that, now I’m going to lose that person.”"I wish I wasn’t so lonely.” “I don’t have enough friends, I am all alone in the world.” And so on.

We tend to lose sight of what is already present in our lives, and that we can rely on them.

I came across this book by Byron Katie, called I Need Your Love – Is That True?: How to Stop Seeking Love, Approval, and Appreciation and Start Finding Them Instead. It was published a couple of years ago. I’m a bit of a newcomer to self help literature, but she is quite popular, so you may have read or heard about it many times before.

I was struck by a quote in the book that reflects our most basic existential fears so eloquently that I want to just type the whole thing:

One of the most destructive forces in our own minds is the critical voice that seems to comment on much of what we do.

“Why did I say this? I look like such a fool.”

“I could have jumped in here and helped my colleague out, I’m such a dope.”

“This didn’t turn out right, I have to do it all over again.”

It seems like in many ways we are our own worst critics.

Yes, sometimes we do mess up. But most of the time we do the best we can. If we want to change, we have to first and foremost deal with the self judgement we put on ourselves.

So often, we are unaware of the effect of our words on others.

Something we say may linger in another person’s mind, and we underestimate the importance it may have on them.

Something that was said weeks ago may linger in our minds, and is brought up after the other long forgot about it.

Our perception, as well as our memory, is extremely selective.

We tend to pay attention to only those parts of a conversation that are important to our own agenda. We usually remember only the words that have emotional significance for us, and neglect everything else that was said – including our own thoughtless statements.

These imbalances are exacerbated when there are power discrepancies. Like the one between parents and children. Teachers and Students. Psychotherapists and their patients.

I have recently been on both ends of such miscommunications.

A poor body image is often connected to low self esteem: We don’t like not having a perfect flat belly. We hate our poor thighs and ankles because we want them to look differently.

We squeeze every pore and rip the skin off our cuticles to try and gain control over what is so hard to control:our emotions.

When we are anxious or feel critical of ourselves, it seems that we have to do something. We have to distract ourselves from our negative thinking, and since we have a hard time getting a grip on our feelings, the body becomes the battlefield of our endless self improvement projects.

Rather than having to change or bodies, how about we change our attitude?