From my journal. Rambling but honest...
I wanted to believe I was good. I wanted to be able to point to something positive in my life and say “See, I am good.” - as though physical evidence would prove it true.
I didn’t want to face all of it yet, to see the fullness of the truth was too sad, too much. So I created more external reference points, hooks on which to hang meaning - a morning cup of tea, responses to bank mail and the DMV, the hope that the things I’m learning will someday benefit another - flimsy thoughts to prop up a ‘sense of self’.
Without them - if I were to let them go - strip them of the power I originally invested in them - I’d have to face the truth....that there is no-one in my life who will save me. There is no Mother with eyes full of adoration, no Father guiding and protecting, no sister who remembers and understands, no daughter who has forgiven. All these were hoped for in my imagination.....
...figments that would shield me from the darkest, saddest corner of my reality....I am alone.
There it is.
And no trip to Costco or the bead store is going to change it. Stop fiddling. Let yourself cry. It is sad.
I watch my thoughts....
“The sore on my left shoulder is almost healed...”
“I’ll return Trina’s call today.”
“Do I have flour to make bread?”
All of them so I could feel O.K. about being here. Small reasons to be encouraged. I told myself small stories to keep my heart from breaking.
I sit quietly and look at this, at the small stories and at the dark truth living just beneath them.We look at it together, me and my Self.
What keeps me hooked? I want recompense. I want it to feel fair. I want my hopes, my dreams, my efforts to produce just compensation for the pain I’ve suffered. Letting go feels like letting the bad guys win. I want to ‘win’. So I make up hopeful, small stories.
There’s nothing there, sweet girl. Look at it. It’s O.K. There is nothing out there to make your life defendable. You can let go of that whole idea.
How do I know that the small stories are to justify myself and not small inspirations? Because of how they feel - grabby, needy thoughts with the outcomes already attached - the happy ending anticipated. Backwash of my neediness.
What will happen if I let them go? It feels like they’re the only thing keeping me here.
Giving up the power I derive from the "sad truth”...
No more small stories.
Only one reference point left, when the others are released.
After the sadness...
There is no “after the sadness”.
Open your heart and accept the sadness in. Accept all of it...knowing the Love is already immensely bigger.
Let go of your identification with the sadness. Allow it to be as insignificant as it actually is in relation to the Love.