1. The only way to be safe in the world is to be completely vulnerable.

Okay, but what exactly does it mean to be vulnerable?

It means lots of things: Crying; being susceptible to attack, judgment, or harm; exposing your underbelly (literally and metaphorically), failing. Getting sick. It’s no wonder most people want to avoid getting vulnerable. Even after research professor Dr. Brené Brown linked vulnerability with feelings in her wonderful Daring Greatly book, people still give vulnerability too wide a berth. But being vulnerable has many positive faces which include: Taking risks; trying something new; stepping outside (sometimes way outside) your comfort zone; making mistakes. It’s interesting that the “negative” side of vulnerability involves revealing ourselves to others (including failing or getting sick because if those things happen, we’ll need to ask others for help), yet the “positive” side of vulnerability consists of actions. Somehow, being seen (feminine) shows up as negative whereas actions (masculine) are positive.

Yet we at Underbelly believe all facets of vulnerability are positive. None of us want to get attacked or harmed, nor do we want to fail or get sick, but these things are part of life. Life on life’s terms, right? When bad things happen, we want to feel safe reaching out and asking for help, perhaps sobbing in someone’s arms. There’s no security in doing things alone, and when we truly let ourselves be seen by others, it encourages them to do the same. We then build a community, and community means safety. If we don’t reveal ourselves but instead hide our feelings and true selves, we show up as brave and formidable on the outside while quaking on the inside. There’s nothing secure about that, so we say again: The only way to be safe in the world is to be completely vulnerable.

Sheila’s thoughts:

This is a big one for me because I didn’t grow up in a family where it was ever safe to get vulnerable, so the first time a therapist said, “The only way to be safe in the world is to be completely vulnerable,” I thought she’d lost her mind. I told her this was the exact opposite of what I’d learned in my home. “I know,” she sadly replied. Now I understand how true it is, but I still get afraid sometimes and try to play it safe by observing from the sidelines. It doesn’t work, and I have to remind myself (or let one of my wiser friends remind me) that it takes time to change old patterns. The grooves run deep, so when I’ve reverted to old behavior, I need to gently shake it off and resume the new behavior. Like holding my hairbrush with my left hand or chewing on the other side of my mouth, it’s going to feel strange for awhile. Sometimes a long while, but the longer I practice the new habit, the sooner it becomes second nature to vulnerably show up in my life.

2. Strong people share their weaknesses.

How’s that?

We all have strengths and weaknesses, and we enjoy sharing our strengths. We talk about them even though they’re probably obvious to the people around us. We want to make sure though, so we emphasize them. Brag about them. Do the “false pride” thing around them. But our weaknesses? We don’t talk about those. We’ll work on them in the secrecy of our homes and lives, and once they transition to the strength category, we’ll talk about them. Of course, we’ll now be sharing how they aren’t weaknesses anymore, they’re strengths; and the whole process repeats itself.

Yet we miss a stellar opportunity to connect with people and build community because it’s not our strengths that bind us to one another––it’s our weaknesses. We commune and compare notes about what works and what doesn’t. We empathize and encourage one another to keep running the race. When we’re letting our strengths lead the way, we don’t need connections with other people; and we don’t get them. People often leave perpetually strong people alone, figuring they don’t need anyone, or they might need someone, but not me. If we avoid revealing our weaknesses because we prefer talking about our strengths, we’re going to spend a lot of time alone.

Sheila’s thoughts:

I’ve traveled and done specific volunteer work, which puts me in situations where people wax poetic about my life, as they imagine it. None of which is true, I tell them, after they share it with me. Very few people’s lives are as fantastic as we imagine them to be. It feels good to let people in on the frailties in my life, and this is just what plays out in a volunteer work situation. I can’t imagine how challenging it must be for celebrities or professional athletes where their whole persona is dependent on playing to their strengths exclusively. I wonder if they’re lonely.

Growing up as a Catholic, I never wanted to go to confession when I had something to confess. “I’m fine, Father, how are you?” I only thought I didn’t have anything to confess. I had plenty. I just didn’t want to reveal my weaknesses. Sharing weaknesses leads to connections, but I was so disconnected from self, it makes sense that I wouldn’t have wanted to connect with someone else.

3. Forgive everybody of everything all the time.

Okay, this is nuts.

We get it. It sounds nutty, but it’s not. We’re talking ultimate liberation here. Nothing will make us happier, make us healthier, or make us more anything we want to be, than forgiving everybody of everything all the time. Most of us know that when we forgive someone, we’re not letting that person off the hook, we’re letting ourselves off the hook. Forgiveness 101, got it. But when we routinely practice forgiving others, whether it’s the little things (poor driving, too many grocery items in the Express Lane) or big ones (betrayal, stealing), we start knowing, really knowing, that nothing is being held bound against us either. We don’t need to have done exactly what someone did to us either. It’s safe to say all of us are on someone’s pissocity list (a “technical” term detailing how pissed off someone is at us) a few days a week, so if we’re letting people off the hook, we start living as though we’re off the hook. And that’s a tremendous way to live.

Sheila’s thoughts:

I straddle both sides of the line here. I had a lot to forgive, and a lot to be forgiven for, so I’m all in on forgiveness. I’ve dealt with some sticky health issues in my past, and I know how instantaneously I experience serious problems in my body when I stay angry at someone about something. I’m also part of a support group that brings this message home very clearly: No resenting people, places, or things! It’s toxic, and since resentment is just a $2 word for “I don’t forgive you, asshole,” the message couldn’t be clearer: Forgive ‘em.

An added bonus when I forgive people? It takes me out of the victim role. They’ve no longer “done me wrong” because I’ve taken it and them off the balance sheet. I spent enough time in my life being victimized, so I’m done with the victim routine. If I don’t forgive you, I’m stuck in that victim character; and the world will keep offering more opportunities to be a victim. Can I get an Amen if it also rained on your outdoor wedding AND outdoor reception? Now I love rain and have attended rain-drenched weddings. They’re fun. Nothing like a mud slide when women are diving for the tossed bouquet, but the fun factor at my own rainy wedding was root cellar low. No, I’m done holding anybody bound. Especially myself. I’m stepping out of the victim starring role, and the way I notarize that decision is by forgiving everybody of everything all the time.

4. Whoever gets to the love first wins.

I don’t get it.

That’s because it runs counter to everything we’ve ever been taught. We’ve been taught from the playground that whoever gets there first wins. Then later in life, whoever drives the best car, went to the most prestigious school, lives in the best neighborhood, has the most followers, you name it. These are just different shades of the same color we learned when we were young: Whoever gets there first wins. Yet it’s not accurate. We all know plenty of people who have exceled in the ways above and more, and they’re not living the life of a winner. And why is that? Because winning has to do with our ability to be compassionate with others and the peace of mind that naturally comes with behaving that way, not from driving a Bentley or living in Beverly Hills. It’s terrific that many of us have created wonderful lives full of material blessings and the safe neighborhoods and exalted degrees that usually come with that, but make no mistake, winning is all about our hearts. Not our wallets.

Sheila’s thoughts:

Someday I should write a book entitled, “Everything I Need to Know I’ve Already Learned from One of the Myriad Couples Therapists My Husband and I Saw.” To answer your unasked question, six or seven. One of these therapists introduced this idea to us: Whoever gets to the love first wins. As I recall, this was the heavy-duty shouting and arguing period of our marriage as evidenced by the rings around our popcorn pan. We’d fight, I’d start a big pan of popcorn, forget about it, and scorch the pan. We’d show up every week laying the same nonsense out there wanting a ruling about who’d been good and who’d been bad the week before. She refused to participate and kept repeating her phrase about what winning was really about. She even suggested a designated chair that either of us could sit in when we’d gotten back to love. I remember at least one heated scramble for that chair, proving “I got to love first!” Her message finally landed though, and now I see the profound wisdom in it. Whoever gets to the love first wins, and I’m happy to say, I haven’t burned popcorn in years.

5. Anger’s a smokescreen. Get to the underbelly and fall in love with the vulnerability you find there.

Oh, really? I have a lot to be angry about. A lot.

It’s horrible to contemplate, but many people have a lot to be angry about. Oftentimes contemplating the tragedies brings up anger because it seems safer. It’s not, but that doesn’t stop us from believing it. Yet here’s what we at Underbelly know: Whenever we’re angry, there’s something more potent underneath. And that vulnerability beneath the anger will draw people to us much more readily than the anger will. Anger pushes people away, and sometimes we like that because we’re afraid. Anger feeds off fear, and the longer we’ve avoided sharing our fears, the longer it'll take to access the full range of our feelings. It’s important to remember, if we’re not feeling the pain, we won’t experience the joy either. The pendulum swings the same amount on both sides.

Sheila’s thoughts:

I grew up in an angry family. Both my parents came from troubled homes and while my father’s anger was a slow burning passive aggressive anger, my mother was a rager. Interestingly though, in some ways my dad’s anger was scarier because it wasn’t clear when it was coming. My mother’s ramp-up was easy to spot and gave me ample time to head upstairs “to do homework.” I learned early to keep feelings to myself because my angry parents weren't safe harbors for me or my four older siblings. Unfortunately, we five kids didn’t support one another either, so it was seven independent family members living under one roof. Talk about vulnerable feelings––this still crushes me thinking how alone we all were growing up

It was only when I got into individual therapy and a support group for my weight issue that I started exploring my own anger issues around physical trauma. I’m grateful that today when I feel sad, I cry instead of yell like my mother or shut down like my father. Neither my anger or sorrow frightens me today, and I’m grateful to feel all my feelings today.

6. Your success is my success.

No way.

Way. Think about it. If we help people do something they couldn’t have done otherwise, how could we not be part of that success? And if we had nothing to do with their achievement, it’s still our shared success because we got affirmed again how life works. Hard work, powerful vision, and infectious passion works for others in the same way it'll work for us. We forget that sometimes, but every time someone succeeds, we can applaud wholeheartedly because their success is our success. Or we can mope on the sidelines and begrudge other people's achievements; but when our triumphs occur, we shouldn’t be surprised if no one’s there to celebrate with us either.

Sheila’s thoughts:

I went to UCLA Film School, so I was clear what a lonely journey it was going to be if I pitched a fit every time someone won a contest, sold a script, or got a production deal. Instead I called it our shared success because that meant it could happen to me, too. I'm still trying to get a film produced, but I like that when I see my peers' or students' (!) names in the trades, I think warm thoughts and wish them well. Is it bittersweet? Sometimes. Yet it’s not like my envy's going to take anything away from them, but it will definitely take something from me; and I refuse to pay that price today. My job is to do my work, be inspired by you doing your work; and applaud any of us when those years of labor pay off. That’s how I stay liberated and joyful, and those two qualities are absolutely necessary for creativity.

7. You’re thinking thoughts anyway, so you might as well think uplifting ones.

I get it. The Pollyanna routine.

Have you read that little book? Sure it’s syrupy, but the thought-thinking idea's true. Think positive thoughts and see what happens. We can retrain that negativity muscle and turn it on its head. Try it for a day. Every time you hear something, read something, or get exposed to something, assume it’s going to work out wonderfully. If you later hear it didn’t, assume that something even better's coming. Only then do we realize how ingrained our negative thinking patterns are. It’s always hard to change bad habits, but what’s the alternative? Living with them for a lifetime because we started out a particular way? At Underbelly, we support each other in seeing the best possible outcome in every situation. Does it happen every time? Of course not. We’re positive thinkers, not delusional ones. But this willingness affects our interactions with one another, which affects our day-to-day lives. Being cynical is highly overrated and highly contagious. Instead of heading into a situation looking for the light, be the light. Especially these days. We need more light bearers.

Sheila’s thoughts:

The blues come naturally to me. I was in choirs from when I was very young and then studied opera for a few years when I got to Los Angeles. My singing lesson followed Robert Guillaume's when he was starring in Phantom of the Opera. I’d come early and sit on the floor outside our teacher's apartment, my ear pressed to the door. Heaven. Anyway, I’m a trained singer, so I often get asked to sing at weddings and funerals. I'd much rather sing at funerals than weddings. But just because I’d rather sing the blues doesn’t mean I have to live them. I like thinking positively and since I spent so many years of my life thinking negatively, this seems like a reasonable life balancing gig.

8. You’ve got plenty. Share.

I’m not so sure about that. Times are crazy now.

These are highly unusual times, but if it’s bringing up financial anxiety for those of us contemplating sharing the wealth, imagine how much more vulnerable people feel living paycheck to paycheck. Or those who aren’t making it from one paycheck to another and instead are going deeper in debt every month. And what about people who aren’t even bringing in a paycheck? No, we feel fairly confident that those of us reading this are perhaps better situated than most people, so we (and the world) would benefit from sharing our abundance. It’s achingly obvious to those of us living in Los Angeles because the number of homeless encampments has seemingly tripled in the last few months. Food banks are expanding their hours of operation because the need’s like nothing we’ve seen since the depression. Some children are eager to get back to school because at least they were guaranteed breakfast and lunch, but not anymore.

Yet in the midst of this chaos, there are heroes great and small showing up to feed and clothe people. Digging boots and sneakers out of closets (seriously, how many pair of sneakers do we need?) and dropping them off at donation centers. Goodwill, Salvation Army, Discovery Shops, Out of the Closet, for starters. They’re everywhere, and different ones benefit whichever charity or place of worship we’d like to support. An added benefit? We’re struck by how smoothly our lives run with less stuff. Share the wealth. We all win when we do, and your dry cleaning bill lessens.

Sheila’s thoughts:

I’ve worked for two billionaires and countless millionaires over the years, so I’ve been clear for a long time that stuff wasn’t the answer. I saw it in their lives and in their eyes. And definitely in their kids’ lives. It’s usually not until kids reach their teens that they suddenly get interested in the concept of more. Up to then, what they really want is parental attention. The happiest tutoring-client family (two kids, two parents, and a grandma) I ever had lived in a small three-bedroom condo. They were always on top of each other, and they loved it that way. In contrast to another family (two parents, one kid, one dog and two hamsters) moving out of their 20,000 square-foot home because things were getting too crowded. It was a big dog, but really? Twenty thousand feet’s not enough? Don’t misunderstand me; do your thing. If you want more stuff or more room or more koi for your pond, have at it. I just know it won’t calm you in those sleepless 3AM moments, contemplating the bigger picture of your life.

I’m not in the two-home or two-car category. Not even the two-dog category, but I’m still in a position to share. Clothes, shoes, hats, food, money. It makes me feel good, and I need that these days. A month ago I went to In-N-Out to get my protein style burger and an order of fries. I hadn’t eaten fries in a year or two, and after waiting a half hour, I figured I’d earned them. I was taking my lunch home, but knew I’d have to fry-nosh en route. Smelled too good. I opened the bag and saw them. In-N-Out fries are prettier than I remember. Just reaching for one when I saw a twenty-something homeless guy by the parking lot exit with a sign. I’m a writer and like to read others’ work, so I read the sign. It said: Hungry. I lowered my window and asked if a protein style burger would be okay. He said he’d love it. I handed him the bag, and it was over. In the scheme of things, it wasn’t a big deal; but someone was hungry, and I fed him. I drove home to my apartment with food overflowing in my pantry, refrigerator, and freezer. Made a healthier lunch for my hubby and me. I also remembered the last time I ate an order of French fries, I had diarrhea; so I fed someone AND dodged that bullet.

9. Stop. Mucking. Around. In. The. Past.

That’s easier said than done.

Most things are easier said than done. Have you ever tried to bathe a Rottweiler while changing a toddler’s diaper and watching the latest TED talk at the same time? Of course, it’s easier to say things than do them, but give it a shot. There are three reasons most of us want to hang out in the past: 1) Feels safer than the unknown of the present or future 2) Want to learn from our mistakes 3) Letting go of the past means forgiveness, and we’re afraid forgiving means letting people off the hook. Let's break them down: 1) Living in the past ensures more mistakes in the present because we’re not paying attention to the Now. It’s jarring to the spirit, the body, and immune system to keep our attention in a place where we can’t create change. 2) Great, learn from them and move on. Buy the Day Pass to the past though, not the Annual Pass. Think of the past like a public restroom at a major sporting event. Get in and out as quickly as possible, and wash your hands (of it) when you’re done. 3) If we’re struggling to forgive someone or something from our past, we’re in a tunnel with no cheese. There’s never a pay-off for staying angry, and forgiving someone doesn't mean we’re letting him off the hook. We’re letting ourselves off the hook. Besides, he’s not on the hook. He didn’t have a problem with the behavior--that’s why he did it! We have to get present in our lives. If we need professional support to do that, let’s get it. Support groups? They’re waiting for us. Our lives are calling us to learn and move on. We’ll never regret it, but we’ll definitely regret it if we don’t.

Sheila’s thoughts:

There’s a great New Yorker cartoon from Eric Lewis. An old man's dying in a bed, and someone sits at his bedside, holding his hand. The old man says, “I should have bought more crap.” I love that cartoon. Buying more crap and holding onto the past belong in the same category. I want to avoid both of them.

There are a couple of places in my life where I had to use my real deal forgiveness muscle, and happily, she performed like Serena Williams in a tennis tournament. Game, set, match! I don’t hold anybody bound because I don’t want anyone doing that to me. Here’s a routine I use when I need to forgive someone and move on. I write a little letter, and I mean little. There’s only four parts, and I don’t even need to mail it to the person, though I want to read it to somone and get it out of my head. Let’s say Jane stole my guitar 20 years ago when we were in high school, and I’m still honked off about it. I write Jane a letter that goes like this: Dear Jane: 1) I forgive you for stealing my guitar 20 years ago. 2) Please forgive me for not forgiving you for 20 years. 3) I remember you always used to help me with my Trigonometry homework in Mr. Koye’s class, and I appreciate that. 4) Love, Sheila Suddenly forgiveness becomes like the eternity symbol or like one of the moves we do in Tai Chi. It flows back and forth, back and forth until eventually it becomes indistinguishable as to who’s forgiving whom. I can’t help but think that’s how it’s supposed to be.

10. Perfectionism is an unattainable, unworthy, and uninteresting pursuit. Abandon it. Yesterday.

I’m not trying to be perfect. I just have high standards.

Oh, that’s the kind of thing the Perfectionism Gremlin likes to whisper in our ears when we’re in the midst of a relentless pursuit. Cast the gremlin off your shoulder and read on. If you only incorporate one of our 10 Principles let it be this one. Well, this one and the one above. Actually, all 10 of them, but if only one, practice this one. Hear that word practice? Practice gets a bad rap. People assume they’re practicing, so they can do the task perfectly. Not according to us at Underbelly Communications or the professional athletes, musicians, and actors who are friends of ours. (Including two Stanley Cup winning hockey players and one Academy Award winning actor. And someone with a Netflix gig! There’s the coup––a Netflix gig! How do you land that? Sorry, we digress.) People relentlessly practice, so they can get their head out of the picture. With the mechanics in place, they can get on the ice, stage, or field and be in the moment. They don’t have to think about the specifics; the practice already handled that. To be a champion, you don’t have to be perfect; but you have to be in the moment. Gretzky said the shots he missed in one game helped him in the next because he learned from them. If The Great One doesn’t believe in perfection, maybe we don’t have to either. We at Underbelly Communications urge you to stop wasting your time in this unattainable, unworthy, and uninteresting pursuit.

Sheila’s thoughts:

I used to teach middle school, and I’d tell my students if they haven’t made ten mistakes by the time their head hits the pillow at the end of the day, they’re not taking enough risks or trying enough new things. They kind of liked that especially when getting papers back with lots of red pen mark-ups. I taught them to celebrate the missteps and learn from them.

I’ve had an eating disorder since I was in elementary school. When I finally got in a support group that taught me I don’t have to eat impeccably but I do need to be awake, that changed the whole game. Fried chicken and bonbons aren’t my friends, but it’s good to know, if I one day end up with a KFC drumstick in my mouth and a box of Teuscher truffles waiting in the wings, the sky won't fall down. Doubtful that kind of food’s going to end up in my hula-hoop, but I do love knowing that a flawless life isn't the goal. I always knew whatever I was doing with food I was doing in every area of my life, so getting off the perfectionism merry-go-round has changed my whole world. My whole imperfect world.

I also haven’t weighed 200 pounds in decades.