Reflections on Brené Brown’s Strong Ground BOOK

Reflections on Brené Brown’s Strong Ground BOOK

Reflections on Brené Brown’s Strong Ground BOOK

I’ve been reading Brené Brown’s book Strong Ground—a truly excellent read for anyone who leads others, even if that person is yourself on most days. While each chapter offers something powerful, one section stood out to me. Brown writes that one of the most impactful shifts in her decades of research centers on the topic of humiliation and that this understanding feels especially relevant right now.

Her distinctions between shame, guilt, humiliation, and embarrassment feel both timely and deeply needed. They remind us how essential it is to stay human—to navigate conflict and challenge in ways that preserve respect, dignity, and possibility. Brown points out that humiliation is one of the most significant drivers of violence from interpersonal to international conflict.

She illustrates that we often lack discernment between these emotional forces and use the terms interchangeably, to our detriment. Her perspective led me to ask: What if we did? What if we learned to truly distinguish them -what might become possible? It reminded me that there is no place too small to begin this work.

Moving beyond the blame game and standing firmly in the importance of both empathy and accountability, Strong Ground offers a path toward something different: a future built on curiosity, honesty, and courageous communication. What’s more, Brown’s research (and that of many others) shows that these same qualities are not only the most human way to lead, they’re also the most effective, creating greater engagement, innovation, and even higher revenues.

Here are a few of her definitions that stood out:

  • Shame: I am bad. The focus is on the self, not the behavior. The result is feeling flawed and unworthy of love, belonging, and connection. It is not a driver of positive change.
  • Guilt: I did something bad. The focus is on behavior. Guilt is the discomfort we feel when we evaluate what we’ve done -or failed to do- against our values. It can drive positive change and behavior.
  • Humiliation: I’ve been belittled or put down by someone. This left me feeling unworthy of connection and belonging. It was unfair, and I did not deserve it. With shame, we believe we deserved it; with humiliation, we believe we did not.
  • Embarrassment: I did something that made me uncomfortable, but I know I’m not alone. Everyone does these kinds of things. Embarrassment is fleeting, sometimes even funny.

Brown notes that she once believed shame was more dangerous than humiliation—because we tend to hide our shame, believing it to be true. Yet research shows that humiliation can trigger a cascade of reactions, including social pain, decreased self-awareness, increased self-defeating behavior, and reduced self-regulation -all of which can lead to violence. Harling and colleagues argue that “humiliation is not only the most underappreciated force in international relations—it may be the missing link in the search for the root cause of violent conflict… perhaps the most toxic social dynamic of our age.”

Brown continues:

“I believe this connection between humiliation and aggression or violence explains much of what we’re seeing today. Amplified by the reach of social media, dehumanizing and humiliating others has become increasingly normalized -alongside violence. Now, instead of humiliating someone in front of a small group, we have the power to eviscerate them before a global audience of strangers. Shame and humiliation will never be effective tools for social justice. They are tools of oppression.”

And she quotes Elie Wiesel’s powerful reminder:

Never allow anyone to be humiliated in your presence.”

Finally, Brown emphasizes that leaders who are unwilling to talk about power are either actively abusing it or preserving the option to do so by avoiding the conversation. Daring leaders, on the other hand, welcome conversations about power and model self-reflection and curiosity.

Reading Strong Ground reminded me how vital it is that we each do our part to restore dignity in how we lead, speak, and connect. Whether in our families, organizations, or communities, the work begins with cultivating awareness choosing to see and honor the humanity in one another, and then learning the necessary skills of communication that preserve that dignity -even when it’s hard.

Humility vs. Humiliation: The Medicine of Meeting Failure Honestly

Humility vs. Humiliation: The Medicine of Meeting Failure Honestly

Humility vs. Humiliation: The Medicine of Meeting Failure Honestly

There’s a rawness to failing in real time. No tidy reframes. No polished lessons yet. Just the unmistakable feeling: I didn’t meet the mark.

This is where we often confuse two very different experiences: humiliation and humility.

Humiliation wounds the ego

Humiliation says, “This proves I’m not enough.” It spirals into performance, defensiveness, or collapse. We protect. We explain away. We pretend it wasn’t a big deal.

Humility opens the soul

Humility says, “This is what’s true right now.” No spin. No grandstanding. Just sober willingness to see ourselves clearly. Humility is not self-abandonment; it is self-honest. It is an inner softening that makes real growth possible.
When we stop performing, we meet the ground of our actual capacity. Sometimes we did our best and it wasn’t enough… yet. Sometimes we held back when we knew we could have given more. Both truths grow us if we let them.

Why this honesty matters

    • Authenticity deepens. We stop trying to look perfect and start being true.
    • Compassion expands. Once we hold ourselves kindly in failure, we naturally hold others more gently too.
    • Resilience strengthens. Humility metabolizes the moment so we can rise wiser rather than harder.

A simple practice for the “raw moment”

  • Name it plainly. “I failed at X.” One sentence. No excuses.
  • Locate the lesson. “What became clear that wasn’t clear before?”
  • Choose your stance. “Given what I now see, will I try again—or release this path?”
  • Bless the next step. One courageous action today that honors your updated truth.

You don’t need to be invulnerable to be powerful. Let humility do its quiet, beautiful work. It will return you to the center that cannot be shaken.

For more on practicing humility without self-erasure, join me on the Roar of Love Podcast.

Failure as a Sacred Teacher: When Things Fall Apart and Truth Emerges

Failure as a Sacred Teacher: When Things Fall Apart and Truth Emerges

Failure as a Sacred Teacher: When Things Fall Apart and Truth Emerges

We all know the heat of a moment that doesn’t go our way -the relationship that ends, the deal that slips through our fingers, the project that won’t land no matter how faithfully we show up. We call it failure. We feel the sting, the disorientation, the sudden quiet when the momentum stops.

Without trying to sugar-coat it too much -because failure needs to be owned not swept under the rug, failure can be used to move us forward and even liberate us.

Failure strips away what was never solid so what is real can emerge. If it could have happened as we imagined, it would have. The fact that it didn’t doesn’t make us wrong; it makes the moment honest. In that honesty, we’re offered a rare doorway into alignment—into the deeper “yes” of who we are and what we’re truly here to create.

It is by the very fact that we can fail that courage is needed. And both courage and the sometimes failure that accompanies stepping in are signs that we are stepping in and stepping up. So, go boldly, learn, and let go as needed.

The pause that clarifies

Failure interrupts forward motion. That pause is potent ground. It asks: Is this path truly aligned with my soul’s purpose?

  • If yes, we rise and try again with more wisdom, less illusion.
  • If no, we pivot reclaiming energy for a truer path.

Either way, failure refines desire and strengthens integrity.

The unshakeable part of you

When the outer structures collapse, what remains is the unshakeable core—the part that knows what you will keep saying yes to, even in the face of setbacks, and what you will lovingly lay down. This is how your power ripens: not through constant success, but through honest choosing.

A kinder definition of success

Our culture loves the scoreboard: achievements, optics, productivity. The spirit measures differently. Spiritual success is alignment with the Higher Self—acting from deep truth with clean integrity. By that measure, the only true failure is forgetting who you are. If a stumble helps you remember, then it was never a loss; it was a gift.

Try this reflection

  • What “failure” still tugs at you? Name it without spin.
  • Ask: What did this moment reveal about what isn’t true for me? What did it reveal about what absolutely is?
  • Decide: Persist or pivot? Either is powerful when chosen from truth.

Failure is not the enemy. It is a sacred ally that dismantles what cannot hold so what can hold may finally rise.

If this resonates, come sit with me on the Roar of Love Podcast for more soul-aligned conversation on transformation and truth.

Commitment on the Spiritual Path: My Journey from Survival to Devotion

Commitment on the Spiritual Path: My Journey from Survival to Devotion

Commitment on the Spiritual Path: My Journey from Survival to Devotion

For a long time, I lived under the belief that to create the life I wanted, I needed to simply work harder. It didn’t matter how depleted I became; the formula seemed clear: the more I pushed, the more I produced. And so I pushed. Less sleep. Long hours. Meals skipped so I could squeeze in more work. There was a fierce determination that kept me going, but also a quiet erosion happening underneath it all.

I began my adult life with a trial by fire — no resources, no clear direction, and a baby in my arms. In those early years, hard work was not just a habit; it was survival. It was the thing that allowed me to build a business, finish my education, and create a foundation for myself and my child. And for a while, it worked. Hard work got results.

But there was a shadow side to this commitment. I had unknowingly linked my worth to output and my security to sacrifice. Somewhere along the way I internalized the belief that depletion was required in order to succeed, that the road to any meaningful accomplishment had to be paved with this depletion.

When Commitment Becomes a Cage

The thing about survival patterns is that they work — until they don’t. At first, my version of commitment carried me. But eventually, it began to hollow me out. I became brittle. My patience wore thin. I noticed I wasn’t enjoying the people I usually enjoyed. My body was frail and tired, and with that fatigue came poor decisions and errors in judgment.

I was, in many ways, “committed” — but it was a distorted commitment. It was a commitment born of fear: the fear of losing ground, the fear of not being enough, the fear of what would happen if I stopped. It was commitment as compulsion, not devotion.

And then, like many of us who push too far, I hit a wall. I found myself cracking under the weight of it all. For the first time, my old way of doing things wasn’t working. I had to face the truth: my relationship with commitment needed to be transformed.

The Opposite Pole

After decades of working in one way, I decided to take the advice of those around me and “be normal”—to finish work by 6pm, take weekends off, and pursue the more common pleasures of life. At first, this was difficult, but eventually it became routine. Yet, I did not feel more content. I felt more aimless, more self-indulgent, more dissatisfied. I had no desire to live a life of indulgence. Once again, I found myself at a dead end.

A New Understanding of Commitment

Life, in its wisdom, brought me both support and challenge to shift into a new way of being. I received enough help to keep me afloat — but also enough resistance to push me deeper. Slowly, I began to understand that it was not commitment itself that mattered, but what the commitment was to.

True commitment is not about endurance for its own sake. It is devotion to what nourishes and sustains, to what aligns us with our highest truth. It is about choosing again and again to align with what matters most — even when it is inconvenient, even when misunderstood, even when it asks us to release old ways of being.

Commitment, I realized, is an act of love.

The Feminine Force Within

As I looked deeper, I noticed that my distorted relationship with commitment wasn’t only personal — it was cultural. I had learned to survive by doing rather than being, by measuring my value through appearance rather than inner beauty, by caring for others while neglecting myself. Like many of us, I had been taught to suppress the feminine force within — the wisdom of the body, the power of receptivity, the right to be nourished.

What emerged was a new vision: commitment as a sacred balance of the masculine and feminine within. It is the focus and strength to act, yes — but also the willingness to listen inwardly, to rest, to be guided by spirit.

Commitment as Devotion

Now I see commitment not as a rigid vow to grind through life, but as ongoing devotion to my soul’s truth. It is choosing alignment over approval, integrity over exhaustion, devotion over compulsion.

Sometimes this devotion looks like saying yes to a big leap of faith. Other times it looks like saying no to what drains me. More often, it is the steady tending of the inner fire — the quiet acts of realignment with the truth of my heart.

Commitment is not about force; it is about fidelity. It is less about gripping tightly and more about returning, again and again, to what matters most.

An Invitation

If you find yourself caught in the old paradigm of commitment — where sacrifice, depletion, and fear are the drivers — I invite you to pause. Ask yourself:

What am I truly committed to?
Is it survival? Approval? Or is it the deeper call of your soul?

Commitment can be an expression of love rather than fear, a path of devotion rather than depletion. It invites us to align, to listen, to return to ourselves again and again. And when we do, commitment ceases to be a cage — it becomes a source of freedom, vitality, and spiritual strength.

Want to learn more about transforming commitment in your own life? Listen to the Podcast : EP 8 The Alchemy of Commitment — Devotion, Discipline, and Transformation 

The Transformative Power of Gratitude: 6 Practices That Help Heal Anxiety and Depression

The Transformative Power of Gratitude: 6 Practices That Help Heal Anxiety and Depression

The Transformative Power of Gratitude: 6 Practices That Help Heal Anxiety and Depression

Gratitude and appreciation are two of the most powerful tools we can use to transform anxiety and depression. They ground us in the present, uplift our perspective, and activate healing from the inside out.

As Dan Baker writes in What Happy People Know, “It is impossible to be in a state of appreciation and fear at the same time.” The same holds true for worry, judgment, and even grief. Gratitude doesn’t bypass hard emotions—it softens them and makes space for joy to return.

Here are six intentional practices to cultivate gratitude and create a deeper sense of peace and emotional well-being:

1. Keep a Gratitude Journal

Research from psychologists like Sonja Lyubomirsky shows that writing down what we’re grateful for—once a week or even just when inspired—can increase our energy, reduce stress, and support emotional regulation.

Try this: At the end of each day, write down three “small joys.” Think simple: the warmth of a mug in your hands, your child’s laughter, a quiet moment with a tree. These fleeting gifts, when acknowledged, start to shape a life that feels more full and sacred.

2. Speak the Language of Positivity

Words have energy. In Words Can Change Your Brain, authors Andrew Newberg, M.D. and Mark Robert Waldman found that positive words like “peace,” “hope,” and “love” activate neural pathways that reduce stress and build resilience.

Integrating affirming language into your daily life—both spoken and internal—literally rewires your brain toward higher function and deeper calm.

Try this: Choose one word each morning to anchor your day (e.g., “grace,” “truth,” “compassion”).

3. Remember the Helpers

Gratitude is often described as the “memory of the heart.” Think back to those who helped you when you were struggling—mentors, friends, family, even strangers.

Make a habit of reflecting on these moments. Let the memory of someone’s kindness open your heart. If you’re moved, reach out and let them know they made a difference.

4. Write Thank-You Letters

According to gratitude researcher Robert Emmons, writing thank-you letters—even just once—has measurable mental health benefits. The impact is even greater when the letter is shared aloud.

Choose someone who has touched your life—especially someone you may not have fully thanked. A few heartfelt words can ripple far beyond what you imagine.

5. Surround Yourself with Grateful People

Energy is contagious. The people you spend time with influence your thoughts and emotional habits. Spend time with those who speak words of appreciation, who find beauty in the everyday, who say “thank you” and mean it.

Their gratitude will rub off on you—and yours will uplift them in return.

6. Give Back with Purpose

Gratitude naturally evolves into generosity. One of the most beautiful ways to honor those who’ve supported you is to pay it forward—to lift someone else just as you were lifted.

This doesn’t mean forced reciprocity. It means choosing to become a light for someone else, simply because your light was once rekindled by another.

Try this: Ask, “Where am I being called to serve in a way that feels aligned, authentic, and soul-fulfilling?”

Closing Reflection

Gratitude isn’t a spiritual bypass. It’s a spiritual anchor. It helps us return to what is sacred and true—even in the middle of life’s storms. It reminds us that healing is not a destination, but a devotion to seeing what is already good.

Practice gratitude not to feel perfect, but to feel whole.