I just keep hearing the whispers, be it god or the universe or myself.
I just keep getting signs, or like Santiago in the Alchemist calls them, omens. Everything I have learned from SSC has taught me that the universe is in the business of helping you achieve your greatest purpose, or personal legend, again to quote the Alchemist; the thing is you have to be looking, and listening in order to know that the next step is there waiting for you.
The whispers are telling me that I have stuff to offer up to the universe.
I have a voice.
I have a story worth telling.
I started this blog a month ago, then after writing a few posts I shut it down because my boyfriend, who is very sweet but also likes to tease and pick on me a little, found out about it and started sort of mocking it.
I say "found out" because I did not tell him.
Here's the silliest thing of it all- I was trying to write a blog about using what I had learned from SSC, most notably Brene Brown's work on vulnerability, because that's what I struggle with the most, and I was so afraid of being made fun of for starting a blog that I kept it a secret from the most important people in my life.
Basically everyone in my life, like I told no one.
I realized almost immediately the irony of it all, but that didn't matter. I was embarrassed for even thinking I could do this and it would matter.
And then one morning we took our dog for a walk and I was short with him about something stupid and he called me on it and I ended up telling him that I cancelled the blog and explained that I was embarrassed that he mocked me for doing it, because I'm trying to be honest and all that terrible stuff.
He said "who cared what I think! if you want to write a blog then just write a blog." And while that is solid advice, I told him that what he thought mattered to me. We were partners, there to support and and challenge each other.
What I learned from Brown was that this was my ego, the hustler, speaking to me.
"Who do you think you are?"
That one sentence whispered in my mind has the ability to send me running for cover, digging a hole and crawling inside.
Who do you think you are?
I felt ashamed of myself for believing that I had anything to say that anyone would want to hear.
Crawl in a hole.
For the rest of the walk home I was teary-eyed. He felt terrible and said of course he supported me and believed I could do anything I wanted to do. For the record all he had said about it was an off handed comment that went something like this "are you going to blog about that?"
That was it.
I had turned that from a harmless comment into an attack on my self- worth.
That's what I do.
A few days later I realized that I had done the EXACT thing that I had been reading and studying up on. I had allowed my fear of vulnerability to shut me down.
ugh why do we do that? When I dig deep down to the bottom of it and I think really hard about why I am so afraid to put myself out there, unfortunately I freakin end up with my mother. I hate SO much that I end up with my mother.
Why is it always the mother and why, for the love of all that is holy, can I not rise above it?!
Here's the thing: I know that my mother loves me, and I know that when I was younger, she was not a happy person (though she pretended to be), I know she was in a couple of miserable marriages and coped anyway she could. I know all of that on an intellectual level but I cannot get my subconscious to know it. The little subconscious girl who lives at the bottom of it all cannot be convinced of this and instead just looks at me when I dare to stick my neck out and says "who do you think you are?"
You aren't lovable enough to even keep your mom home at night.
You aren't interesting enough to warrant a second look, even from your mom.
You just aren't enough of anything to be honest.
Just go.
And stay.
And be quiet.
Hush.
Damn it, damn it, damn it...
But I'm learning every single day how to quiet that little voice.
gratitude
self-love
being connected
