for me, self love belonged up there with all the cheesy stuff of this world. it was something only people do who walk barefoot and travel to india looking for themselves amongst the incense wearing hemp yoga pants. please don’t get me wrong, i really like cheese so no discrimination against cheese. but i knew how to love everybody else. understood what caring for my “neighbor” meant and how to fan the passions of others. however, there was little personal growth. my own garden was unkept and choking with weeds. why? FEAR and guilt.
fear keeps one average and bland, chokes creativity and is the thief of dare…oh that spice of life. but fear of what? losing people i love if i say or do something they do not approve of (they left anyway), of loneliness (i was lonely anyway waiting for my spouse to come home), not being a good christian (all those sweaty screaming preachers belting out love for others sermons. i still suffer from yelling-preachers-with-big diamond-rings syndrome). not trusting myself enough to honor my own passions; fear of mistakes and comparing myself with others. not grasping that we are all at different stages of the journey. self-loathing; what a waste of time because everywhere i went, there i was. those i so fervently loved have built and nurtured their own lives. how smart. but wait, there is a still small voice i spent a life-time ignoring. step number one to self love:
forgive myself. one big, heavy back-breaking bag less on this journey.