I’ve had some stuff going on this week. Not sure what it is still… or where it came from. I’m working through it… or maybe its working its way through me (which is how it feels at times). But whatever it is, its mine.
It has not been pretty.. rather ugly, in fact, at times. Which isn’t easy to accept, but its mine.
It has been … uncomfortable… at the very least and at times has been down right painful! And I don’t know about you, but that’s not fun… but its still mine.
Some times I had to just sit with it.. in silence… there just wasn’t anything else to do with it. Other times I let it get a hold of me and I said and did things I didn’t like. It felt too big to hold on to, but that didn’t make it any less mine.
There were times when I wanted to turn away, to run from it… I’ve certainly done that before. I mean… all that nastiness? Who wants to own that? But there was no getting away from it, because its mine.
As awful as it felt, I sat with it and I stayed with it. I set it aside when daily life required me to, but I never walked away from it. And THAT felt good… great, in fact! Because I knew it was mine and it felt good to own it. Even though I wasn’t comfortable, I felt more in control.
Where was I going to go anyway? These things don’t go away. At least not very far, ever, they just lay dormant waiting for another opportunity to show up again. Because they are mine.
As I sat with it, I looked at it… I watched it… I studied its characteristics, how it behaved, what it reacted to, what it wanted, what it needed. I learned a lot by doing this and felt even more in control. I gave it what it wanted and withheld what it needed, then vice versa, to see what would happen.
I’ve worked really hard to learn to listen to my body and my mind … and my soul. Some of these lessons have been painful ones. Watching and learning and asking questions about the things I think and feel, both physically and emotionally.
The first part of it was owning it as part of me. Its easy to own the parts that I like, that I know others like. But these ugly parts are more difficult to own. In the past, I didn’t want to accept them as part of me, especially when I thought other people didn’t like them. I wanted to be accepted by others, I didn’t want to be different, even when different meant being true to myself. I ran from them, I hid them. But they are part of me… and there is no getting away from that. It took a long time to learn that there would be people that would accept me, even with these parts, maybe not as many, but once I was accepted with all my parts… I didn’t want those other people back anyway.
It feels amazing to be accepted for who I am… but even more amazing to accept my true self, with all of the parts that make me who I am, all the way down to the deepest part of my soul. To stand up (figuratively) in a group of people and allow myself to stand out from everyone else, saying out loud exactly what makes me different, knowing that I accept my true self, and no matter what those people did or said or thought, that they couldn’t hurt me, because the real pain comes from not being my true self, not owning what is mine…. wow… … just wow.