WARNING: Adult language ahead!
I shocked myself this morning. After a walk, some sungazing, yoga in the park, I was feeling pretty good about myself. Being as I started my day off in the “right” way (I was proud), I thought I would attempt to journal.
You see, I’ve been trying to tap into my creativity for awhile (not only with writing, but with my career as well) and I’ve felt blocked. Majorly blocked. This has been going on for years. I always feel as if I’m operating at about 5% of what I’m actually capable of. But for some reason every time I try to force myself to do better, I shut down. I feel even worse. What’s resulted from this inner struggle is a constant and ever-present feeling of failure. I never feel good enough.
As one who prides myself on my ability to face my own shadow (and embrace my negative emotions), I thought I would go into this feeling and see if I could coax my inner self out — to let her know I love her and it’s okay for her to shine — to heal the negative emotional imprint so I can finally do what I’m “meant” to do.
I decided to write my inner self a letter (my “human” self). I wanted to talk to the part of me that wasn’t allowing success. The part holding me back from my full potential.
But she wasn’t having it.
“Why do you insist I prove my worth to you? Fuck you and your self-Improvement! I don’t want to be improved upon. Fuck you for treating me like I’m your problem to fix — a fundamental flaw in your system. You’ve adopted your dad’s way about you – the critical way. Unaccepting. Unattainable perfection. You chose the path of ‘improvement’ because you hate me.
Fuck your belittling ways; you’re trying to coax me out to do your bidding – to make you look good for others – to earn their love and approval. I’m not interested in improvement. I’m interested in doing nothing but existing in peace without your fucking judgments. I don’t want a war. But a war is what you will get if you try to force my hand.
You always want to prove, prove, prove. Fuck you. I don’t have anything to prove. Your validation is just not that important to me.
I want to be loved simply because I exist. I’m not good. I’m not bad. I just am. Fuck your ‘enlightenment’ bullshit. Perfection doesn’t interest me.
I REFUSE to prove myself to you. The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can go in peace. You cannot force me to do what you want by withholding your love from me. Fuck that. I am not your slave. I am not your constellation prize. I am not your whore. Fuck you!”
It poured out of me like a volcano eruption. I couldn’t hold it back. I was literally shaking. I realize I wasn’t only talking to “me” — I was talking to everything (and everyone) in my life that reflected that judgment — including my false perception of God.