I wonder this morning how I let others’ reactions to me influence my ability to love myself. That on top of my inclination to offer the negative, a nugget of I-see-it-your-way that reveals another person’s weakness and makes me look more important (?). But if I do that with my friends as well as people I don’t know well but I’m willing to make judgements about, am I not doing the same thing to myself. Instead of accepting and loving the whole package.
I pick at the flaws to diminish affection and reduce connection. I judge this as good and that as bad when it’s all an important part of the whole. Light and dark both necessary for a soul to grow and thrive. Just as I can’t know another person’s path, how the dark and light interact for their growth and greater good, I also can’t really know how it works for myself.
So loving the whole requires facing the whole, accepting it, embracing it. Not cherry-picking what I think is acceptable, or what I think someone else might find acceptable. Not hiding or denying what’s not considered acceptable. I start with myself. This is the core of my work on this walk. To love myself most and best and deepest. To protect my tenderest self from bullies while remaining as open and vulnerable to life and to other people as I can. Loving others comes from the overflow, the example (Pat), the practice. A daily practice of self love?
“Gentle, nonconfrontational questions that pursue the truth, as you see it, can prevent a person from taking over all the power in a situation. This will save complex and gentle people from being reduced to the function of an external controlled role.” Anam Cara
How do I find those questions – gentle and nonconfrontational – in situations I feel attacked. How do I get to curiosity from defensiveness, to love from fear?
Jupiter prominence
The smell of towels (and roughness) and sheets
As I write these stories from the pilgrimage, I’m aware that my morning journaling has become more and more full of questioning and sadness and confusion. When I read those deep feelings, I don’t always understand what my pilgrim self was trying to express. But I feel her pain and I applaud her courage. I realize she’s searching for truth and willing for maybe the first time to risk putting ugliness on the page. When the current version of myself considers putting her words on this forum, I feel her reluctance to let me share. There is shame tugging, and uncertainty. Are these words really true? Or is something else true? Will revealing these truths prove once and for all that we are broken beyond redemption?
If these words are true, then how can the feelings of joy and transcendence that come during the walking hours also be true? The last two phrases at the end of the entry are a reminder to me of the power of nature to keep me grounded, and my ability to find awe and wonder in the midst of turmoil. Jupiter was very prominent during these days, and so if the skies were clear at night, or early morning, that huge planet offered a steady light and companionship that felt personal. The smell of towels and sheets, sun and wind dried, never failed to comfort as I breathed deeply in or reveled in the slightly scratchy surfaces that felt like home.
It’s one thing to risk writing that pushes into the shadows to reveal deeper truths. It’s another thing altogether to risk sharing that writing. But as I’ve learned over and over again, most recently with my decision (her decision) to take a break from Facebook, it’s in the sharing with someone else that makes me accountable to accepting and facing the truth.
If I could, I’d reach back and hold that brave pilgrim, hug her tight and tell her how grateful I am for her strength and courage. I would tell her that facing her pain and confusion, and her refusal to quit, have brought new light to our life. I especially wish I could give her a hug on the morning of the day to come. It’s a day that will stretch her beyond where she thought she’d be willing to go and expose feelings we’ve spent a lifetime trying not to have.
[[HUGS]]
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