I've been scared for a long time. Of anything, of everything, of the world, of other people, of myself. There are periods when I can let go and have faith in the world, the universe, destiny, humanity, but at times I feel utterly vulnerable and I protect myself by not letting anyone get to know me. I cannot have trust in others because I barely trust myself. I cannot let go in order to love others, or to have compassion, because I do not have self-love.
I met a man yesterday in a coffeeshop. He commented on what a rockstar I am because I was knitting. He had just been on a journey walking from Vancouver to the southern tip of California, and he seemed to exude compassion and love. We talked for a bit about this and that, and then he asked me a personal question. And there was a second of doubt. My initial reaction was to stave off the question and stay in my little shell, but he had been so open with me about the recent changes he underwent in his life, battling with his inner censor voice, that I decided to accept that I was afraid of opening up and do it anyway. We talked for over an hour and by the end, although I was unsettled by letting him see me for who I really was, it was okay. I still had power over myself. Just because I let someone in does not give them power over me. He made it easy because he was so compassionate and open, but even still, I realized that I am in control. That little voice that tells me what to do, that makes me hold on to my fears, does not have to dominate my actions, and maybe someday, my beliefs.
He told me that every person, every single one of us, is a hero, and it is through going to the deepest darkest parts of ourselves and facing those wounds and battlescars that we can resurface unscathed into a greater reality. I am still holding back to my greater potential because I have yet to let go of my greatest fears, or to face them. But it's okay. I will take it one step at a time, and perhaps I'll learn to love myself along the way.
I met a man yesterday in a coffeeshop. He commented on what a rockstar I am because I was knitting. He had just been on a journey walking from Vancouver to the southern tip of California, and he seemed to exude compassion and love. We talked for a bit about this and that, and then he asked me a personal question. And there was a second of doubt. My initial reaction was to stave off the question and stay in my little shell, but he had been so open with me about the recent changes he underwent in his life, battling with his inner censor voice, that I decided to accept that I was afraid of opening up and do it anyway. We talked for over an hour and by the end, although I was unsettled by letting him see me for who I really was, it was okay. I still had power over myself. Just because I let someone in does not give them power over me. He made it easy because he was so compassionate and open, but even still, I realized that I am in control. That little voice that tells me what to do, that makes me hold on to my fears, does not have to dominate my actions, and maybe someday, my beliefs.
He told me that every person, every single one of us, is a hero, and it is through going to the deepest darkest parts of ourselves and facing those wounds and battlescars that we can resurface unscathed into a greater reality. I am still holding back to my greater potential because I have yet to let go of my greatest fears, or to face them. But it's okay. I will take it one step at a time, and perhaps I'll learn to love myself along the way.
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