There is room in me to grow.
I don’t like to opening admit this because it is not something I like to acknowledge. I would like to believe that my dance card is full. I have no room. I can’t do anything new or interesting. I am full with mediocrity. Can’t take another bite of life.
But, we know this is a lie.
I am an extremely talented liar. I can lie to myself without even flinching. I have gotten so good at this I do not even know what the truth is anymore. How sad. I may portray myself as a saint of integrity and honour. But again, another lie. I told you I was good.
So, how does one access this sacred space of “yet to be me”?
I am not sure. Now, that is true. We are all so busy with being busy we can’t figure out how to trick ourselves into opening up.
It’s like we just keep putting rubbish in our bin of life until it spills onto the floor. We secretly worry or even get visibly anxious. But, we could simply just sort the recycling here and take the rest to curb. Busyness is as addictive as sugar or crack. We are addicted to being important and thereby too busy to focus on self-worth.
There is a divine flame in me that no human can extinguish. But there are times when it is hidden so far down below the drudgery of life, that I don’t know how it all doesn’t burn to the ground.
I like to think I am generous but the truth is I am very stingy with myself. In fact, I am downright mean much of the time. I spend hours building up people. Complimenting strangers even but not a kind word muttered to myself. How is this fair? It is not. It is again a lie I tell myself. “You can’t do that.” “You Don’t have time.” “You used to look better.”
It goes on and on and why I don’t take that rubbish to the curb, I don’t know.
The hard way has been a life path. I am guilty of being unable to help myself the beauty and meaning I may bring to a world too demanding to care.
There are days when I feel so inspired and I somehow see the light in bands of gold and bronze with sprinklings of pink, like a sunrise of my potential. I awaken to myself.
These are one of those days. I give great gratitude to God for reaching me beyond the noise I put between us.
On days like today I not only feel that all my suffering has carved me like a statue into something more than I was. I feel fully and I am able to have a deep appreciation for the simply joy of small things. Peeling a tangerine. Lighting a candle. Walking the dog. Writing a sentence.
Falling deeply in love with life again, I chose me. I don’t just tolerate her, I embrace her. All the wounds of the past betrayals or disappointments melt away into nothingness setting me free to roam in to becoming.
I invite you to silence the noisy inner voices chattering on like a broken record about nonsense. I ask you to to come home to your real self and open your arms, letting her rest her weary head on your shoulder.
Hold her close. Adore her. Stroke her hair. Whisper kind words of comforts.
Let that be the only you that you know anymore. Let the divine flame not only flicker but be fanned by your inner love and self-awareness.
No one gives us this, but if we let them, they will keep us from it. And that’s no lie.