I remember as a youth staring at myself in the mirror and declaring affirmations; however, they were NOT ones of positivity, but rather ones of degradation and self loathing. I used to tell myself I was not creative, ugly, fat, unworthy. How sad is that! Where the heck did I learn all that? (And how ironic that I told myself that I was not creative, when now I know that thoughts ARE creative and I was the one perpetuating this negative cycle.) Now here I am over 30 years later staring at the Gal in the Glass again, but this time telling her that she is “nature’s greatest miracle,” that she is “whole, perfect, strong, powerful, loving, harmonious and happy,” and that I am rare and valuable and no longer will I “make vain attempts to imitate others.”
I realize how deep the ruts of my old neural pathways of self loathing are, and am giving myself the grace to celebrate and acknowledge the growth I have made so far in this MKE journey and learning to not beat myself up for the moments when old subby may have triumphed for a moment or two. As a red, I want to learn and perfect and control immediately when I learn something new, so giving myself this grace is not so easy, but I am determined to do so and love myself more and more through the process.
On last Sunday’s webinar, Mark asked us to write a new index card with the question, “what am I pretending not to know?” For me, I find myself still holding onto that banana, afraid to let go of the old me, because the thought of my greatness and God-given purpose still scares me. After all, who am I to make such a difference in this world? This is the same scared girl who used to belittle herself in the mirror. Surely she is not capable and does not have anything worthy to share.
Then I hear a new tiny voice begin to say, “there is no one like me. I am unique. I am a resilient encourager. I am here for such a time as this. I am a child of God. My story can help others. I am a giver who can serve others by shining my light so they can have permission to shine theirs….”
I feel my grip on this old, rotten banana begin to loosen and it drops with a clunk. I pull my hand out, palm upward and open to give and receive and enter the flow.