It sounds easier said than done, don’t you think? How many of us dare to be ourselves, our brilliant, bright, wild selves, all the good stuff but also along with our insecurities, doubts and while embracing our dark side? How many of us are compassionate enough to recognize our true needs, our desires and also our fears? How many feel no need to conform to the expectations of our family members, co-workers or society at large? How many of us dare, daily, to be truly free?
Well, I don’t. At least I don’t always. Most of the time I am either unsure about who I am, or I get lost in a frenzy of activity which takes me away from the need of contemplating such a question. I am always happy to jump to somebody’s help though, a much easier task for me than to tend to my own complicated inner life. But at times I get myself together and I feel. I sometimes feel truly myself. I feel my body, its flexibilities and pain, its hungers of many kinds, its soreness and kindness of letting me do most of the things I want or need to. I feel my heart, filled to the brim with different emotions running wild and shouting for attention. I feel my heart overflowing with gratitude, so filled with love and sadness, with tenderness and strength. Often I feel beauty that cleans it and makes its pulse more real. I also feel my mind, working hard on solving problems, planning efficiently, explaining, remembering, doing all sorts of intricate calculations, amazing itself and getting all tangled up. Feeling myself makes me real. I feel the connection between my body, heart and mind, and I hear, in the middle it all, a voice, at times shy and small, at times powerful and clear, telling the story of being myself.
And that story, exactly that story, I would like to share with you. I would like to share it because it is only through connection to others, for me through the love and warmth filled relationship to my wild women sisters and their wisdom, that words can come out safely, as to clearly hear myself and to be able to share that which is truly precious to me, that is, myself.
Do not worry at this point, dear reader, it is not a narcissistic need that pushes me to the brim of the pond, looking down at the own reflection. Rather it is compassion, which for years I thought as something worthy only of others. I had to learn, the hard way, that without compassion towards myself, without that gentle thankful pat on my own shoulders, I am holding the world for a fool. I have learned that no true love is possible without starting at oneself, and then exchanging that already dear self for another. First loving it dearly and then giving it up is the lesson. Then loving again. In the same way, no help can be given until we have already helped ourselves, in the deepest way possible. And no change can come until we recognize and embrace where we stand right now.
Thus, being who we are, feeling our body, heart and mind is not really a choice. It is a token of love, compassion and gratitude towards what has been with us, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death will do us part. As John O’Connolly says in his beautifully written book Anam Cara: ”One of the most sacred duties of one’s destiny is the duty to be yourself. When you come to accept yourself and like yourself, you learn not to be afraid of your own nature. At that moment, you come into rhythm with your soul, and then you are on your own ground. You are sure and poised. You are balanced. It is so futile to weary your life with the politics of fashioning a persona in order to meet the expectations of other people. Life is very short, and we have a special destiny waiting for us to unfold.”. This is my wish to me, may I continue to discover and love myself. This is my wish to you, may you continue to discover and love yourself.
Written by Caro (aka GlitterBear)