Purring

I am back from a wonderful vacation visiting with my biological father. I grew up without him and was recently reunited with him almost 2 years ago.  Getting to know him has been such a wonderful process and I treasure every minute we get to spend with each other.  As I gew up, I always wondered about him, wondered if he thought about me, if he ever missed me but was always too afraid to find out.  I attempted to contact him over the years, but was always scared to leave him a message, hesitant to find out the answers to my questions, so I always lived with lingering doubts and hidden pain of not knowing him.  To this day, I do not know why I finally reached out to a cousin living near me, who encouraged me to seek him out.  Through my cousin, I was in contact with my father and we have forged such a deep and soulful relationship.  My fear held me back for years and I missed so much time with him.

Fear.  That has been the theme for most of my life, fear. I have been afraid to follow my dreams, listen to my heart, reach out and touch that which I longed for.  I am seeing now how useless that emotion is.  As I child growing up, there was a lot of fear and anger in my house.  Fear became a constant companion of mine and only recently have I been working at releasing fear from my life.  It is a difficult process but one I am determined to conquer, releasing fear, letting it go, saying good-bye.

It is difficult to be honest with oneself, to really look yourself in the eye, admit who you are and want to change.  Often I am reminded of one of my university professors saying “it’s difficult to pull yourself out of a pile of shit, it stinks, but it sure is nice and warm.”  We grow comfortable with our situations, no matter how much we want things to be different, we resist change.  As my cat lay on my lap and cuddled in the blanket with me, she dug her claws in and could not free them.  Even as I held her gently, she resisted me and my attempts to release her claws, finally I untangled her and she lay still again and resumed purring.  How like a cat I am in my life, I cling desperately to things that are uncomfortable, I stay stuck, resisting those who try to help free me.  I am learning not to “fight” my life, to just go gently with the flow, everything happens in it’s own good time.

Years ago, I had a foster kitten who came down with panleukopenia, an almost always fatal disease, I was determined to try and save his life, I did not want to give up on him. The vet assured me if he could make it through 5 days, he would probably recover.  I faithfully gave him his meds, administered his iv fluids, held him as he spasmed and shuddered and just prayed he would get better.  On the morning of the fifth day, he was crying and mewling for me, as I went into his room, I could tell he was not going to live.  I picked him up and was amazed that he was purring, I held him close and we layed together in the sunshine and I said good-bye to him, told him if he had to go that it would be fine.  He never stopped purring.  I held him as he slowly faded away and when I could no longer hear him purring, I knew he was gone, he had simply slipped away from me, purring the whole time.  I read after that cats will sometimes purr when they are very sick, it seems to be a way to heal themselves, but I think that my sweet Gomez knew that his time on earth was ending and had simply decided to allow himself to die.  He did not fight it but he embraced it, purring contentedly that his pain would be ending soon.  Now I wonder how I can embrace my life and carry myself with dignity as that small kitten did. How much easier is life when we simply embrace what is happening around us, even if it is painful?

I am slowly learning, bit by bit, taking cues from the universe around me that my life is on track, everything is happening as it should.  I cannot force things to happen, the more I operate from a fearful place, the more difficult my life is.  I am learning to trust that all things happen as they should, just as my relationship with my father is evolving and growing, the time was right for both of us to meet and accept each other as we are, regardless of what happened in the past.  My life will happen as it should, it cannot be rushed, it must be savoured and appreciated with each small step, every tiny opening, it will develop and thrive if I let it.  Now, I must just allow my heart to open in it’s own time.

The Meaning of Family

I had a wonderful weekend being reunited with my biological father and extended family, being so wrapped up in learning about myself, how I fit in, and finally feeling acceptance. I was completely entrenched in my own personal bubble of happiness that I blocked out everything else that was going on in my life, that included being there for my sister-in-law and brother-in-law when their son was admitted to the hospital after being diagnosed with diabetes. I have never been overly “close” with my husband’s family, we only get together for birthdays and holidays, I don’t chat on the phone with his family, we usually keep to ourselves. After calling my sister-in-law today, I realized that my assumption that they don’t need/want me in their lives was very wrong. My sister-in-law expressed her disappointment with us not being there for them and after talking with her and journaling how I felt, I realized that I am still learning what “family” is and how to be a part of a family. I grew up in a very dysfunctional/violent/emotionally abusive household, so I learned very early on to keep things to myself. I was always a “loner” as a child and this kind of environment only deepened my need to depend only on myself and not to reach out to anyone.
My sister-in-law was very calm as she explained her disappointment, how hurt they were and it slowly dawned on me that other people were not raised the way I was, and in times of crisis, they need family and friends around them. I honestly did not think they needed me, after all, I could not depend on anyone but myself, in times of crisis, I was always alone. I now see how hurtful that is to those around me, how other people reach out to one another when things are at their worst. I feel like an idiot for being so wrapped up in my own conditioned thinking and thought patterns. I have learned a valuable lesson today, I only wish it had not come at the expense of two family members. I now go forward with new awareness and sensitivity that I did not have before. I only hope in time, that they can forgive me. I am striving every day to be the kind of person I can be proud of, while this was a very painful lesson to learn, I am grateful that I could learn it.

Jealousy and Grieving

This past weekend was one of extreme highs and lows, I was blissed out on Sunday after another great weekend at school and when I arrived home I had bad news waiting, my youngest nephew was in the hospital. He is only 2 1/2 and he may soon have the diagnosis of early onset diabetes. So I spent as much energy as I could directing him healing white light and positive thoughts as he recovered from stomach flu which is what landed him in the hospital in the first place, only to have a surprise revelation that he may be diabetic.
When I spoke to my mother-in-law in the morning, she was very emotional and was upset because my sister-in-law decided she didn’t want to have any more children because she might give them diabetes. It really irked me that my mother-in-law was so upset about my sister-in-law deciding that she shouldn’t have any more children.
Let me be upfront that I don’t know how to handle people expressing intense emotions, crying and just in general showing deep grief. My mother-in-law is one of those women that cry very easily, take things very personally, and generally has a very thin skin. In short, I don’t have much in common with her on the emotional front and I shut down whenever she starts with the tears or the drama. This time, I could feel the rage building and the anger beginning to blind me. I wanted to lash out at her and ask her “so what is she doesn’t have any more children? what’s it to you?” I bit my tongue, got her calmed down a bit and we said our good-byes but over the day, my anger started to build and I even came down with the beginning of a migraine.
I woke up this morning and knew I had to get to the root of my anger. I let myself sit and stew in anger and I asked myself “now, tell me, what is really going on here?” I grabbed my collage materials and threw together this collage.
I knew as soon as I was putting it together what it meant. I was jealous. I was jealous and angry and hurt that someone else would have the chance to have another child, the chance I didn’t get to have, the chance I didn’t think I wanted, and it tore open a spot in my heart that I have been covering up for years, the wish to have another child. 8 years ago I had to have a hysterectomy and when I had it, I was sure, no, positive, that I would never have another child. The doctors all warned me against it and so did the nurses that helped deliver my son and even my own body told me that I should not ever try to have another baby, so I agreed to have the hysterectomy. Sometimes the heart and the body are not in sync with each other and for the past few years, I have fervently wished I could have another child but my head knew it was impossible, yet I wished I had done things differently, that my body would have been different, that I would have been different and wanted more children. I grieved for so much.
As I wrote, the tears flowed hot and furiously and I let them fall, dampening the page and opening the spot in my heart I keep closed to the world and myself. I cried and cried and cried as I wrote. I wrapped my arms around myself and wept, for how long, I do not know. When I finally stopped, it was almost as if I heard a little voice say “there, I feel so much better now.” I got up and made myself a tea and started humming. Humming? How could that be, out of deep grief I found the peace to start humming? As I moved about through the day, I was so amazed to feel so much lighter and freer. I frequently deny myself the freedom to cry and allow myself to feel those “forbidden” emotions. For much of my life, I hid my true feelings, I learned to bury my fear, rage, and grief, there frequently was nobody there to comfort me so I learned to bury those feelings deep within me. Through the process of collage, I am learning to let them out, those feelings need to come out and be released. I’m learning it’s okay to admit that I have feelings of jealousy, rage, and grief, I don’t have to hide them anymore, nor should I. I am allowed to feel and the more I collage about these feelings, the more I let them surface, acknowledge them, hold them close and release them, the more peaceful I become. This truly is an amazing process.

Emptying the Mind

I awoke this morning, not remembering a dream, but there was a message in my consciousness as I stirred from my slumber. I have been trying to figure out why I have been gorging myself lately, consuming massive amounts of “junk” food, especially after a month of practically fasting. For the past two months, I was so stressed out and angry, my stomach rebelled at the thought of food passing my lips and I was frequently nauseous, my stomach was full of acrid, angry bile that left no room for food and I lost 7 pounds.
So now the pendulum has swung both ways, from starving to gorging and it has left me deeply puzzled. I received the answer this morning, as I woke, I had the thought “the mean munchies started right after you missed one day of meditation, then you missed another day, and another and another. It is no coincidence that you try to fill the empty hole inside you, it has always been full of something, whether it be food, anger, smoking, or grief. You will not fill the void with anything. You need nothing, you need to empty this space out. The only way to do that is through meditation.”
As I slowly awoke to this realization, it made so much sense and since I had no time to probe it further, I had to rush to get my son off to school. I turned this thought over and over as I walked the dogs in the morning sunshine, pondering the truth, I don’t need anything, I simply have to give myself quiet stillness and empty out. Arriving at the house, I immediately journaled my experience and insight, wanting to capture the importance of my discovery. Then, I meditated, simply focusing on my breath and the rise and fall of my chest. I have had times during my meditation where I lose track of time and it feels like I am “home” in the stillness, letting my thoughts wash over me without giving them attention and they slowly pass by and stop altogether. Upon finishing my meditation, I felt weightless and so excited, feeling elated at my emptying the mind.
Not wanting to let the experience dim, I pulled out my sketchbook and collage materials and made this:

My writing afterward was all about turning inward, embracing the stillness, quieting the mind and allowing the negative to flow out of me. All I seek, all I need and desire requires me to do nothing. I have inside of me all that I need. I am enough. I have enough. I am strong enough. Through tying in my practice of collage, meditation and yoga, I am starting to realize this, it’s finally sinking in. It is difficult to wrap my head around the concept that all I need is “nothing”, solving my issues involves getting rid of stuff not accumulating more. Nothing. That is the answer. Nothing. I have all I need, it’s inside buried under all that crap, all I have to do now is be still, be quiet and empty the spot I keep trying to fill up. I require nothing. What an amazing concept.

“Let go”

Sunday when  I was at Yoga class, learning how to become a yogi, to strengthen myself, to realize my own sovereign self , during our Kundalini yoga and meditation, I slipped into a strange place.  I had the feeling I was falling asleep (as I sometimes do) so I opened my eyes and saw the ceiling above me, but I saw something else, it was as if a movie was playing beyond the ceiling, so I closed my eyes to focus on what I was seeing, I was standing on the edge of a cliff with Yogi beside me, we were talking and he said to me “Let go”.  I was puzzled because I was not holding on to anything, he told me to go “deeper” and I was afraid and felt myself shaking.  Yogi looked at me again, I could hear the wind blowing around me, he grasped my arms in his hands and told me “Listen to that deeper self, the one you’ve been denying.  Open up and let go.  Let go of who you were, become who you need to be.  Let go.” and then he pushed me off the edge of the cliff and I was falling…  Suddenly my body became aware of the sensation of falling, my arms reached out to grasp the ground and I gasped and almost sat up completely.  My first reaction was “why would Yogi push me?” As I slept on it that night I gained more clarity and woke up knowing he was helping me hear the message of my higher self, to “let go”.  I feel a bit like the monkey who is trapped because he will not let go of the food in the jar, it is within his power to escape if he would only let go and take his hand out of the jar…

So I have been meditating on “letting go” and exactly what that means, how I can release myself from my self-imposed bonds and basically all I can come up with is to encourage myself every day to do something I’ve never done before, something I’ve been afraid to do, something I’ve longed to do but haven’t because I’ve held myself back.  I’ve sought out help and I now have an “Accountability buddy”, someone who will help me be accountable to my goals, I am submitting a piece of artwork to the art centre, I have admitted to my naturopath and chiropractor that I may need extra help in battling depression, and I’ve renewed my commitment to my soul to leave my present place of employment- I’m actually giving myself a date, something to work toward, a deadline to get my education updated and be prepared to find another job.

I am “letting go” of that scared, insecure part of me, I’m tired of giving her power and strength.  This week my collages will focus on how I can “let go” of my insecure self and welcome the “dynamic and adaptable” self I vowed to become as my classmates and I wrote oaths for ourselves.  I don’t think it was a coincidence that Yogi had us write an oath for ourselves, a goal for us to reach as teachers, but also to honour our “sovereign selves”.  I never realized that wanting to become a yoga teacher would lead me into this part of my journey, going so deeply into myself that it scares me sometimes.  When I think of how I want to live my life, how I want to honour my “sovereign self”, I can see that through collage, yoga and meditation, I just may get somewhere.  I feel I’ve wasted so much time already, but really, it can’t be a waste, I’ve learned, I’m still learning and growing and my journey is making me appreciate each day, to savour it, hold it close and live bravely with ruthless enjoyment.  “Everyday, live it like it’s your last one.”

Falling

How easy it is to fall back into old patterns and learned behaviour. While I have fallen out of my blogging I have also slipped backwards and also fallen out of practice with my daily collage and meditation. I was feeling so confident, so sure of myself, positive I was “healed” through my yoga and meditation, stopped taking my medication and felt really, really good for a while… One day of skipped meditation turned into a week, then a couple more, I totally ignored my collage sessions and slowly but steadily my high emotions took a nose dive and I became slowly enveloped by the quicksand of angry emotions, bitter feelings, and the slow burn of inner hatred. I slowly shut down emotionally, wallowing in the familiar intensity of angriness and hostility. My dreams became nightmares and I knew I was spinning but refused to reach out to anyone. Then yesterday after a particular emotionally intense day, a long forgotten pain slowly surfaced, my ribs began aching and throbbing.
Last May, I had a nasty fall from my bicycle and managed to break and dislocate some of my ribs, as I had to remain calm and still and listen to my body, repressed memories of a horrible time in my life came back… Through the incredible physical pain, I had to dig deep and try and heal those old wounds and I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress and Depression and began the most difficult journey of my life and I started my healing through collage thanks to Shelley.
Somehow, I forgot that I was still vulnerable and weak, I felt cocky and so sure I was “cured” and left behind my collages and listening to my soul. Even now, as my ribs still ache I can acknowledge that my soul is screaming out to me through physical pain that I am not healed. My mind knows my ribs are healed, I have not had agonizing pain for many, many months yet this dull ache reminds me that I must continue to collage, to write and express myself to release the anger and pain I have held inside of me for so long. In a way, it is like saying good-bye to a lover, albeit an unhealthy love, yet it is still something you crave because it was all you know. As I lay cocooned in my husband’s arms and cried my heart out to him I realized that I cannot continue to hold back and keep these memories and feelings buried inside me. I have to let them out and let go, I have to be gentle and compassionate with myself, and most of all, to give myself time, time to grieve, time to cry, time to heal. It is painful to move beyond the hurts of the past, but in order to say “hello” to a new chapter of my life, I have to say “good-bye” to the old ones.  I don’t know if I’ll ever be “cured” or ever not wake up in the middle of the night from a particular terrifying nightmare, but I do know that I MUST take the time and do my collages, release those emotions and honour myself daily.  I am going to start all over again and see if I can make more progress with myself, I have to try.

Breaking open

I sit here in wonder as I think, no, marvel at how miraculous my healing has been.  In my last blog post, I listened to my heart and enrolled in school to become a yoga teacher, finished up my Collage through Self-Discovery e-course and have been taking weekly meditation classes.  Ever since I have allowed myself to feel, to realize the long hidden dreams I have felt like I’ve broken wide open.  It has not been a painful breaking, but rather, a shattering of armor that has been too tight for years, the physical release has been amazing.  By exposing the part of my heart and soul that was screaming for me to listen, my world has opened up and become so bountiful, so plentiful and serene, it has brought tears to my eyes and filled me with a sense of wonder every day.  I truly feel as if my whole life has been leading up to this exact moment in time, as Shelley says in Chapter 12 “Whether it seems dark or light, I must remember my life is unfolding exactly as it should for my individual growth.”  I am realizing that even through my darkest moments in my life, they were preparing me for something greater, I would not be the person I am had I not walked, stumbled and crawled through those dark valleys.

What has led to this immense “breaking” for me?  Quite simply a dream, an image, a memory of myself as a young girl, a girl who was totally in touch with who she wanted to be, a girl who revelled in the power of her own body and mind, a girl in love and at home with nature.  This girl one day going through her parents bookshelf made a discovery, she found a book and upon finding this book opened up a part of herself and felt alive.  She read the whole book over and over again, her mother noticed her reading it and practicing the poses every day so they started doing yoga together every day in front of the fireplace on cool winter evenings.  Then things started to go wrong and this young girl put the book away and she never practiced yoga again until much, much later…

This memory came to me very powerfully in a dream, I remembered that young girl who listened to her heart and body, who was not afraid to do what made her happy, what her body needed and loved to do.  I broke through my adult exterior and allowed that little girl to shine through.  I broke through the layers of lies and broken promises and found myself again.  I feel like lovers reunited after a long absence, I am euphoric with happiness and so at peace within myself.  I am getting to know myself as I never have and am loving how it feels. This shift has taken months, maybe years to come through but through the collage process, using meditation to open up my heart to prepare me for my daily collages, I have found the answers within myself.  I have given my soul a safe environment to express herself and am amazed with the power of her responses.  It feels so good to be embracing my child-like self each and every day, it’s like catching up with a long, lost friend.  I feel so alive and powerful, so free and open, even my psychologist loves to look at my collage book to see how far I’ve come.  Who knew that being “broken” could be so healing?

Overcoming a sense of Lack

As I journeyed through this past week’s lessons of “True Abundance” my collages started out as joyful and exuberant celebrations then without warning, my anger once again resurfaced and I began to doubt myself and my chosen path.  I decided not to enroll to become a Yoga Teacher because “I didn’t deserve to spend that much money on myself, how could I ever make a living doing that?” and my collages turned angry and violent.  The day after I decided not to enroll, after talking myself out of it, or rather, letting myself operate from the place of “lack” that has clouded my thinking for so long, I woke up with the beginnings of a cold.  I spent the day with a raging migraine and nothing would quell it and my throat got more and more raw.  I was sick.  As my pages for the day turned scary and ugly, I reflected on my decision and had the beautiful insight that my soul was trying to get my attention.  In my dreams, I was panic stricken, trying to escape something violent, an angry malevolent presence.  As I journalled and collaged I suddenly realized I was projecting my anger at a loved one, thinking he represented the reasons why I shouldn’t go to school.  I knew it was my animus trying to control me again, my body fought back by making me sick so all I could do was rest and dream, trying my best to decipher the messages during my waking hours.  I came to the conclusion that my soul was screaming at me not to deny myself any longer.  Despite being very ill, I made the decision to go to the bank and make a withdrawal so I could indeed become a Yoga Teacher.  As of Sunday, I was officially enrolled.

I wish I could say that immediately my sickness went away and I was left with an overriding sense of peace, but that is not what happened.  I am still physically sick, but I allowed myself to just rest and assure myself that is what I needed to do.  I need to take better care of myself physically and emotionally, that is what this whole journey has been about.  Getting to know myself better has been a difficult task and I am having to unlearn years worth of negative messages and experiences to allow myself to unfurl and let me wings grow.  At times it has been a very slow, tedious process and other days, I fly high with such feelings of hope and assurance that my life will be exactly what I want it to be.

I am learning to embrace my most negative and dark sides, welcome them, show them I will not shun them.  Each time I hold my negativity close, it grows less and less powerful.  Through my illness I am learning to trust my intuition, I do know exactly what to do, I just have to pay attention and act when it is necessary.  It is the acting part that is most difficult, learning to move through my fear and self-doubt that has been the most liberating.  I am thankful that I am learning to pay attention to the clues my body and soul are sending me.  I feel excited that I am indeed, on my way, even though my schooling will take some time.  I am anxious to get started and I was told while I was learning, “stuff will come up.”  I am sure that all my experiences previous to this have been preparing me for this most emotional journey of learning and dealing with my “stuff.”  I am blessed to have this outlet of collaging, it has been a remarkable part of my healing.

Exposing Vulnerability

As I have finished Week 7 and allowed the repressed parts of myself, let my vulnerability surface and embrace it I am stunned and amazed.  My collages were dark, raw and leaping with the parts of myself that I hide away from the world.  Shelley taught me a wonderful lesson about exposing these darker feelings, allowing myself to be vulnerable to them.  I found such release in holding close these familiar and anguished feelings, by embracing them I gave them the ability to release their hold on me.  I felt renewed and a bit raw, these feelings left behind the sensation one gets when one slides across carpet too quickly, a slow, deep burning, exposed skin so sensitive to the air and to touch.  I revelled in this new sensation, let it stay on me without trying to cover it up, almost as if I intuitevely knew that in order to heal they needed to be exposed, a scab to form over them.

I have frequently worn a mask throughout my life, it was learned very early on and I was afraid to remove my masks because I felt that my true self was not worthy, or pretty enough to show to the world.  I was given the harsh stare of disapproval for showing my anger, for questioning, for daring to challenge my parents.  I remember mimicking that “mummy face” as we called it when we were children, I loved to enrage my mother, to try and show her how ugly that part of her was.  My father would slap me across the face if I dared to show him his rage, so I would do it behind his back, imitate his voice and tone to infuriate him further.  I felt powerful by sending his negativity back at him.  I wanted them to see what I saw, feel how their ugliness hurt and wounded me.  My mother laughs about it now, she realizes how horrible it was for her to be so angry all the time.  She has come a long way.  My father has retreated too far into himself and we cannot talk about the past.  I long for him to say “I’m sorry.” but the words never come, he does not recall the painful things he did to me over the years.  We skate on thin ice with each other, afraid of really opening up and allowing that anger to surface so we dance gingerly around one another, not quite touching…

When I allow my vulnerability to surface, acknowledge and honour it, it becomes less fierce and frightening.  I see it for what it is.  I have always been terrified of vampires since I was a little girl.  I was sure they were right outside of my window, just waiting to leap in and suck the life out of me.  My father would be infuriated by my screams, he would yell at me to go back to sleep and to stop imagining monsters, but I knew they were there.  Perhaps I was afraid of a part of myself, the part that surrendered to the vampires, the part of me I’ve shut away for so long.  Now I know I have nothing to fear outside of my window, the greatest fear I have lies within me and I am learning to face that vampire, he is slowly losing his power.

I pay homage to the dark part of me, I tenderly encourage him to come and see the light, I walk with him and allow the message to come to me.  Every time I collage about my darker parts, write about them, imagine them around me, I feel them loosening their grip.  The fear is not so intense and terrifying, my heart races but I simply breathe and allow the sensation to almost overtake me.  My skin prickles and hair stands up on the back of my neck, but I keep breathing, seeing them in colours behind my eyes.  I cry freely, my tears cleanse me, the tension in my neck and shoulders dissapates into the air around me, my moans and whimpers slow and quiet.  I feel exhausted, my muscles ache and my head throbs but I allow myself to feel this vulnerability without trying to send it back.  I soak myself in it, likes waves washing against the shore, I am submersed in a sea of feeling, the scary feelings, anger and deep seated hatred.  Slowly the intensity reduces and I am left feeling depleted and empty but with a soft sense of knowing, peace and serenity.  I can survive the intensity of each visit and each time the pain lessens.  I know in order to release the demons that have held me hostage for so long, I must stand and face them, not fight them rather just allow them to surface and live in their pent up hostility.  I have always loved a good, strong storm and now I know why, we all have a storm raging inside of us and once we stand in the raw power of the storm, stand alone and vulnerable, we can delight in the first rays of sunshine that come afterward and warm our skin. 

Welcoming in Abundance

As I look over my collages for Week 6, the darkness of the images frightens me and awakens a primal fear which I have been unable to name.  This fear has visited me in my dreams, dreams that have scared me so much I wake up with my heart pounding and a pervading anxiousness that lasts the whole day.  Unable to decipher some of the dreams, I collage and try to release the anxiety.

My father asks me if I have decided what courses I want to take from the university, he has offered to pay for my school tuition, and I have been stalling, agonizing, and wondering what to do.  I know I am just putting off decisions for my future, I talk to very few people of my inner turmoil and the unknown boils inside of me like a pot about to overflow yet I still do nothing.

After writing 16 pages and collaging I need to take a walk to clear my head, try and rid myself of the overwhelming anxiety I feel, troubled by my dreams and my inability to hear the message my soul is speaking to me.  As I walk, I turn inward and ask myself “why are you not doing anything? why won’t you send out an email or make a phone call to the school? why am I keeping myself in quicksand?”  Suddenly a voice from within answers and says “Because you operate from a place of ‘lack’ of ‘not good enough’ that you don’t ‘deserve’ the things you desire.  This ‘lack’ troubles your view and your ability to function.  When you operate from this ‘lack’ and the misconception that you don’t ‘deserve’ anything the universe allows nothing to happen.”  I had to stop in my tracks and realized that I DO feel guilty when people want to help me, especially when it comes to monetary issues.  I feel guilty about accepting my father’s offer of paying my tuition, I have felt tremendous guilt when I receive an expensive gift and recall crying later thinking “you don’t deserve this. They shouldn’t have spent the money on you.”  For as long as I can remember I have never been able to accept a gift without thinking and feeling this way.  The revelation rocked me to my core.

I recounted many instances of going shopping for myself and walking away empty handed as I thought “I can’t spend that much money on myself.  I don’t need that.  I’ll just wait to see if I can find it cheaper.”  I have bought clothes without trying them on because I did not want to face my body in the mirror and I didn’t care how I looked, who would look at me?  Who was I to want to look nice?  The only place I have really splurged on is my art, and even then, I have thought out the purchases over and over again or asked for something as a gift because I know I would not go out and spend the money on myself, again with the thought of “I don’t deserve it.”  This place of ‘lack’ has been such an overriding force in my life and has tainted the way I see myself.

Today in the spirit of conquering that demon, I went to Staples and decided to buy myself a nice fountain pen.  This is something I’ve wanted for a long time but have never allowed myself to buy one.  I put the thought in my head that I DO deserve a nice writing pen.  I write every day sometimes for hours and this pen would serve as a tangible reminder that I am worthy.  I found a very expensive fountain pen and the manager went and showed me some others so I could compare.  In the end I chose a very nice and reasonably priced fountain pen, selected some ink refills, chose a package of gorgeous gel pens that I have wanted for a long time and even picked up the new Sharpie pens to stash in my purse with my portable journal.  I wandered over to the day timers and journals and selected a beautiful pink travel journal that you can put a new book in when you’re done with the old one.  I was beaming and proudly walked up to the cash register and as I put down each item, I said to myself “I’m worth it, I deserve it.”

For the rest of the day I was greeted with small surprises, little nudges from the universe that indeed, I am worthy.  From the helpful person at Staples, my dental hygenist giving me a book to read, a friend seeing me at the bus stop and driving around the block so he could come back and give me a ride home, and finding a new class on meditation on my day off, the world kept opening up to me, showing me I do deserve the things I want, people will be there to help me when I need it.  I went through the day with a new buoyancy and a glowing deep within me.  I sent up many prayers of thanks and gratitude for all these small acts that showed me how good the world is to me.

I have been living my life thinking “nobody knows” and indeed, nobody did know, because I have never opened up and told people, the abuse, the rape, my feelings of worthlessness at times and how I tried to end my life.  I am learning that by opening up and telling my story that there are wonderful people around me who are helping me heal those wounds, showing me my light when I forget it’s there, and helping me along my journey.  The world is truly a wonderful place and I am revelling in the abundance of the day.