There has been too much time wasted on disapproval, self-loathing, and saying “no”. The following is a letter to myself. A letter to remind me of my freedom and my immense potential. Perhaps, I’ve been waiting to hear these words my entire life. I didn’t know that I needed to hear them from myself the most.
Dear Loved One,
I’ve watched you grow over the years despite being in immense pain and wanting to give up. If you recall, I was there with you each time you softened: risking vulnerability, stepping out into a land that was unknown, becoming more and more aware of the archaic coat of armor that no longer served you. I was there at the inception of your journey to heal, listening to you silently cry, expressing your disillusionment at life and those who you felt abandoned you. In that storm of grief and loss, you set your intention on healing and began even saying it “out loud”, sharing your desire for something you ultimately did not understand yet. You had become so uncomfortable, anxious, and depressed due to the patterns of behavior in your life that you had become trapped, much like having a 200 pound steel ball attached to your ankle of which you were tasked to pull around each day. You were severely anxious and your body ached from the constant pain of the weight you felt was yours to bear. And still yet, you dreamed of being free, not knowing how, nor even fully believing it was possible. But, you dared to dream. Dreaming takes courage.
Light and love are now flooding in to your awareness, into that once dark room of windows that had been sealed shut, where you hid for so long. Sometimes, it still scares you, as if you are in a dream and that too much sunlight, streaming in, will wake you. The warmth you are basking in is your reservoir of love, it has always been there, you just had not discovered it yet. What you refer to as “stillness”, is yours, and the more time you spend there, the more your sense of self will expand and grow.
In this journey of uncertainty and anticipation, I want you to know deeply that: YOU ARE LOVED. You willed yourself here and you worked very hard for years to see the truth. As doors continue to open, and a more peaceful life emerges, I want you to remember the following…
I give you permission to….
There is so much I want you to explore since you are becoming still enough to see the space around you. It’s just the beginning and I am excited for you! As you begin to employ healthier patterns of behavior, you will find ample space and room in your life for other people and adventures that will fill you in healthy ways.
I give you permission to continue growing in love and acceptance of your authentic self. To sit in the sunlight, unafraid, as long as you like. You are loved. It is you who is cultivating the space around you that is fostering your safety and growth. Because, you are truly capable and strong.
You summoned me and I was here, waiting with anticipation, for the call. I am your presence of self love and will only continue to expand with your consciousness of me.
The following is a poem I wanted to share that I wrote nearly 25 years ago when I was struggling in college. When I was writing this entry, the following poem came to mind and I feel it is very fitting. The journey always seems to come back to self love and awareness. I hope you enjoy!
Harmony and Melody
I have become whole in your presence.
I am no longer afraid to stand still, naked in the mirror.
Eyeing my bruises,
But seeing beauty in desperate times.
Realizing that I am deeply spiritual.
It was you who reminded me of that.
I found the child in me.
I found the adult.
I opened my mouth not only to sing the melody.
But, to attempt to sing the harmony as well.
And, it came.
And, it was beautiful.
Because, it came from me.
And it came from love, from hope.
It came with the joy of a child.
With the strength and wisdom of an adult.
You witnessed this,
And watched and waited, gently pushing.
As I became aware of my own identity.
You were careful with me.
You taught me to feel.
When I was afraid, you taught me to move.
Anger moved me.
And from this, I learned to give.