When your buttons are pushed…

Remember, they’re your buttons!

Do you know someone who really pushes your buttons? Or something you’ve seen that’s really pushed a particular button?

I do, and when it happens it’s not usually comfortable. I may feel sad, hurt, upset, angry or really frustrated. What they’ve said, however, and how they’ve reacted is their stuff. It’s coming from a place with many stories and events – but their stories and events. What it pushes is our buttons. Our buttons. Our stories. Our events. This means, that even though we might be feeling really angry with what was said, it’s our buttons that are being pressed and coming from this state we react rather than respond. We may lash out, get furious, break down into tears or say things we regret all because a button was pushed.

disconnect-buttonsFortunately and unfortunately (when we feel like blaming someone) we are the only ones who have the power to cut the wires to each button. Once we’ve figured out how to do this, however, they hold no power over us anymore. We release the story, the event or the pain that was attached to that button. With this button disconnected, the same person may say the same thing, and instead of seeing red and reacting, we can respond instead.

By cutting off the wires to buttons doesn’t mean that suddenly people can say mean things to us, or do us injustices or bully us. Quite the opposite. It means that when people do just that, instead of feeling out of control because of this reactive button, we are able to respond from a place of calm power.

When we react from a space of a pushed button, usually we simply fuel an equally out of control reaction from the other person and so we both get caught up in a whirpool of emotions, stories and events that are running us both and powering our respective buttons. From the place of calm power, however, with buttons disconnected, our responses hold value and integrity and may even lead to positive change. We are less likely to say or do hurtful things that we may regret. In this way we open the space for the other person to reflect on their actions and possibly adjust their ways. And we open the space for ourselves to be really clear on what the next best step is.


What inspired this post was an interview with Brad Yates on the Tapping World Summit 2016 that I listened to yesterday where he talks about Releasing Work Stress. In it he mentions buttons that are often pushed in the workplace, and reminds the listener that they’re our buttons, and how tapping (EFT) is one of the tools we can use to disconnect them.




Am I doing enough?

On doing enough…

Am I doing enough? I find myself questioning as I sit with my back against the wall in our bedroom, tears flowing down my cheeks, gently tapping on my EFT points. The flowering kanuka out of the window droops and sways in the misty drizzle, no sun to pick me up. This spiral of questioning, which hasn’t plagued me for a while, has been twisting and turning around in my grey matter since I woke up…in pain and frustrated. Tired. Tired of a physically uncomfortable body.

“I’m doing so much to help myself on an emotional, physical, everything level, and yet I’m still struggling.” I feel like shouting.

“So obviously I’m not doing enough.” What it always comes down to when I’m in one of these moods. “I could do more. All this effort is not enough. What else can I do?”


“I don’t know Maya, why I am a still in this position if I’m enough?” my irrational argumentative side wants to say. “I’m always trying to prove to myself that I’m enough…doing enough…growing enough.” But deep down inside I grudgingly admit that I suppose I am enough, in this moment, whether I’m in pain or not. Because I am a wondrous being of light, just like everyone else. And I know to seek out a sparkle and some gratitude right here, not to wait for a future time without pain…

And even though I feel so consumed by my struggle and frustration in this moment, I look around the room to find something I am grateful for. I remind myself that this is my current reality right now, and that’s OK, but that it isn’t a forever reality. I don’t always feel like this. I look at Millie, on the ground next to me, paws over her head in a joy attack, and even though I am still quietly sobbing I feel a glimmer of gratitude for the joy she brings me and the constant companionship.

I feel like in these moments I put my hand into my tool box and pull something out that gives me hope. Sometimes it takes me longer to reach into that box, other times I do it almost immediately. But my toolbox sits, patiently, waiting for me to remember the little jewels that tinkle inside it. Today it’s tapping and remembering the wise words of people like Maya Angelou that we are enough…that this moment is enough, because it’s the only one that we have.

This toolbox would be lovely in a physical form. To write all the tools I’ve collected onto cards and have them in a beautiful container that I can refer to when I need a pick-me-up, and when I need to remind myself that I am enough and that I’m doing enough, even though in the dark moments it doesn’t always feel that way!