I just can’t do it anymore. Life is too short to hate anyone, least of all myself. But the waters I tread are murky. I cannot trust my eyes alone. I need an omniscient Love as my guide. Without Him, my words, intentions and vibes are icky at best.
For as long as I can remember I have judged other people, but none so harshly as myself. I won’t blame anyone else for how I chose to handle my feelings- not my family, not mean-spirited boys, not the media- no one else.
I believe the self-hatred that drove my eating disorder was unearthed- triggered, if you will- by a series of smallish events during puberty. I believe the root was within. My reaction to the events was defensive. I mistakenly felt I wasn’t enough. I felt completely overwhelmed by the world around me and my way of coping with it was to eat….a lot…very quickly….and then get rid of it. And because the root cause was within, so was the remedy. As I’ve said many times here, a consistent spiritual practice, recovery program and my own willingness to heal combined to help me kick bulimia to the curb.
What one considers beautiful comes from a voice deep within. I see it around me all the time. Just the other day I quoted a meme to my boyfriend that goes something along the lines of: “You don’t love your wife because she is beautiful. Your wife is beautiful because you love her.”
Love colours beauty. Love is the voice deep within that calls you to accept people just as they are. We get so confused by the noisy world.
In the end, you are responsible for your own perception. It feels good, for a time, to blame the outside world but eventually we all come around to the truth. You can only change you. When we struggle to accept things as they are, we suffer. Love is always calling us home, always calling us to see our innate perfection and when we do, change flows freely. We float. No earthly thing can touch us. They could never affect the Love that created us, they are merely extensions of it. Everything is, when seen through loving eyes.
Gosh, those beautiful words are easy to write, but far less so to put into practice. I know this. And I know that you can’t love me for me. That’s my job. It’s hard for me though, and I have to honour that to get to where I’m going.
Letting go of expectations; letting go of blame…
Blame is a painful circle and pain pushes me to be willing see things differently. This is where my power is. And all the while I appreciate beauty- of all kinds- rooted in Love, made calm by gentle acceptance of what is.