And I was pretty good at delivering the goods, playing the parts that earned approval and recognition. I was a tough, successful human doing. Always striving, always struggling. Being wasn’t enough. Never, ever enough. I can see it so much more clearly now.
Recently I’ve been on a quest to peel away the programmed, trained parts of myself, the armor I’ve added to shield the lack. I’ve asked many times:
“Why does that comment hurt so much?”
“Why am I so afraid that she’ll leave too?”
“Do I really want to compete all the time?”
“Why do I want to hurt back those that hurt me?”
In stiller moments, I, the deeper I, the I that touches Spirit, the I Am, doesn’t want to add to the hurt and ugliness in the world.
But then that old, familiar armored combat soldier resumes her place on the front line. My heart closes down and the possibilities narrow to the fight in front of me. In that moment who’s really running my show, calling my shots? Is it really me? Or is the disapprovers, the judgers whose opinion of me I allow to matter?
They don’t even know me. I’m only just beginning to really know me. Shake it off! Enough. Enough. Enough. Let it be. Be.
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