Tell me whose life isn’t a story of a visceral defiant path on becoming a self-accepting spiritually-richer adult? Just about the succinctest sum-up of our lives perhaps. So, if there’s just one bit of advice I can offer for achieving this, it’s this:

Become a Buddha. Do it. Trust yourself. You’ll thank you later. 

Here’s how I became my own. 

I suffered summer of 2024. I traveled to magnificent European cities and towns; the food I ate, the wine I drank—everything was pretty mind-blowing, next-level great. I was (mostly) on sabbatical from the rituals of work and ordinary life. ‘Twas fabulosity on the surface for a good month-and-a-half. What more could someone ask for? Yet, my emotions—those traitors—were not commensurate. I had crippling anxiety and despair. Why I did is of no consequence here. What matters is how I managed this paradox.

I had painful feelings. I was silently roaring, crying inside. My emotions were overwhelming, troubling, and so uncomfortable that all I wanted was to be swallowed by a deep, dark hole, away from everything, never again to face whatever the hell these perceptions implied. It was the heart of summer, and everyone—close friends and therapist—was away on vacation and unavailable. Which is why I had no other option but to tune into my inner Buddha.

We may not trust ourselves to be enough. We may not realize that we carry all the wisdom and guidance we need within. After all, we know ourselves best. We may be lazy. We may prefer distractions. But if it were our child experiencing these emotions? If our child were deeply sad or distressed, surely we wouldn’t abandon them to wallow in their sorrow! No, without question, we’d stop; we’d sit with them, soothe their woes, and coo them back to a state of calm. We’d become their much-needed Buddha.

I, you, we all… can be Buddha. Since Buddha—specifically Siddhartha Gautama—was human, so too can we become one. Just as we would with our child, we can sit with our agonizing emotions—without hating them, without judging ourselves for having them. In those tormented moments when all we wish is to disappear (even from ourselves), we can stop, sit with our feelings, and gently say, Ahww, there there now. I’m here for you. I’ll take care of you.’ Usually, in our devastated states, we desperately think of turning to someone out there—a therapist, a friend, a parent, a coach, or a spiritual guide—to help and rescue us. But let’s never forget: deep within, there lies a powerful, sitting Buddha.

In a world that constantly demands our attention, energy, and empathy outwardly, we often forget to care inwardly without becoming overwhelmed. We easily lose ourselves in the intense process of life, always directing our energy out. But within each of us lies a Buddha, waiting, sitting imperturbable—infinitely more capable and available than any therapist or friend to quell our angst, dry our tears, and transform our fears into pearly wisdom.

Find your Buddha. Become your Buddha. It’s not a tall order. Anyone can, anytime, anywhere. Think of it as simply an idea. You can sit alone and let your inner Buddha sit too. You can be chatting with someone and let your Buddha join the conversation. You can give yourself the space to breathe, reflect, and just be. You can listen to yourself and others with empathy and respond gently, patiently, and with kindness. You can engage with others from a place of understanding, not judgment.

But becoming a Buddha doesn’t mean achieving perfection or some mystical state. It’s about recognizing our inherent potential for peace, calm, and compassion to guide us in any given moment—hopefully never left forgotten. We can acknowledge our own and others’ imperfections, knowing they are an important part of our path. Becoming a Buddha full-time is knowing enlightenment is not the destination but a continual process of growth and self-discovery. It’s not about striving for perfection, but finding peace within ourselves and sharing that peace with the world.

Now go find her(him).