First off, go and read this.
I am not kidding you. Just go do it.
Now. Perhaps what follows will make sense.
I slept so late this morning and I am glad.
I am making a wise choice in staying home today and taking care of things right around me. It is not lazy to do that, it is smart. When my house is a mess and I walk across the floor and dirt sticks to my feet, my mind cannot even begin to have a chance at tranquility. I deserve whatever tranquility and peace of mind I can achieve and honestly, if I am a mess in the mind, I am no good to anyone else at all.
Wow. That was hard.
Could I do it? Could I go for two weeks without beating myself up? Without telling myself over and over that I am a fucking waste case who doesn't deserve air and water?
Can I even go for the space of one blog post without doing so?
Do I even realize how deeply ingrained in me it is to think of myself in negative terms? Is that self-hating, to say that?
I don't know. The very fabric of my life is not made up of cotton, as it were, but instead, of fibers and fibers of guilt and shame. Can that be unwoven? I can't even imagine and what would I reweave it all with? What? Where would anything else come from?
Our dear Sister Manning in her post spoke playfully of how we don't need to beat ourselves up because others out there, far more professional, will do it for us. Now that part of the message doesn't resound with me because I AM A PROFESSIONAL AT BEATING MYSELF UP and have been practicing my entire life. Also, I don't really care what others may say or think about me. That, as my darling daughter May says, is not my business.
Besides, no one knows me as well as I know myself, thus allowing me access to places no one else would ever think to go to criticize me.
Here's another thought- the people I let into my life, into my heart, are the people who truly know me and my foibles and who love me despite/for them. Could I not do the same?
Oh Lord. This is all a bit much. In my Mercury-retrograde-state-of-mind, I find that my brain is not working quite right. No, this is not beating myself up. This is just true. See, if I wanted to beat myself up, I'd say, "I'm just an old woman whose brain doesn't work any more. Also, I'm not very smart and a terrible writer to boot."
There's a difference.
Right?
And here's another thing to think about- if I did not spend my every waking and dreaming hour beating myself up, would I then have to do something positive? If I think positively, must action follow?
Well, baby steps. I am going to think about this a lot today as I go for my walk, as I sweep and mop some floors, as I GO INTO MY OFFICE TO WRITE. Also, when I begin to have a thought which is less than kind about myself, I am going to stop, examine it, and then try to let it go. Sort of a living, thinking meditation.
Look, if you can do Power Yoga, you can do a living, thinking meditation.
I was listening to a book on tape last week and it described how, during the Jewish New Year, observant Jews go to a body of water and throw bread into it as a symbolic way of getting rid of the sins of the previous year. I thought about this a lot and how one thing the Catholic religion sort of gets right is the way you can go and confess and have your sins forgiven right there on the spot. If you say your rosaries or whatever the priest tells you to do.
Is it possible to do that without ritual? To self-forgive? To believe that the universe forgives? To not concentrate solely on what is wrong within oneself but to put more emphasis on what is right? To maybe not even see ourselves in the context of sin?
Hoo boy. I just don't know. This is making my head explode.
Tell me what you think! Let's figure this shit out, oh my sisters and brothers! Let us, dare I say it? Open our hearts and minds to...ourselves?
Kisses!
Love...Ms. Moon
