I still remember how it was. I remember the anxiety and the nervous thoughts constantly passing through my mind. I recall the fear, the nasty comments I reserved only for myself and I can absolutely feel the compulsion again: That need to feel better, to fill up and then to empty.
It’s insane. I know it. But I also know that we all have our own ways of pushing away the uncomfortable and this just happened to be mine.
Recently I have noticed a bit of this repeating in my life. I have noticed how resistant I am to thoughts that leave me feeling unsafe, unloved and unworthy. All this time I thought I was doing some good. I was forgiving. I was surrendering my grievances to my Higher Power. I was trying my best to let go.
But I was missing a step.
In order to let go, I had to fully acknowledge what I was releasing. I had to feel the discomfort. I had to meet it, shake its hand, shoot the shit for a bit and then let it go.
In short, I had to face my fear. I don’t like doing it. I really don’t. I would much rather pretend it doesn’t exist or plead with Spirit to take it away from me altogether. But I am being guided to give it less power. I’m being shown that it’s not near as bad as I think it is.
And so I’m trusting. I’m going on faith. I’m willing to be led into a light that, right now, still blinds me. Teeny, tiny steps. I can do this.
It’s gentle when I remember I don’t have to go it alone. When I forget, I freak out.
And all I have to do is reach out, willingness in hand, ready to feel that which will never break me. I am made of bigger, better things than those. Beyond this body bound in chains, I am alight with Love.
Teeny, tiny steps. I can do this.