Selfish

- 25 Sep 2020 -

There is a causal relationship between my writing output and my feelings of shame and guilt for being selfish.

As I push myself to write, I come up against a resistance of shame that from many voices tells me it is not okay for me to be okay, to write and create. The feeling says that I cannot play and have fun, that I can not make my own choices. That I will be attacked by the outside world if anyone sees that I am not following the normal way. That if I place faith and trust in what I cannot see, I am an ‘idiot’, a ‘moron’, ‘stupid’. That any investment in myself is a waste of time. That any risk that strays from the acceptable is foolish.

The farther I challenge this, the farther into my heart I find bitterness and resentments I did not know were there. As they express themselves they turn to anger, an anger that comes into my bones, clears my mind. As I breathe into this anger I feel a new power. As I settle and acclimate into it rather than being absorbed and consumed by it, I feel a new stability, a new control, a calming serenity.

Passion ignites anger directed at the anger itself. An awareness in me has no choice but to find forgiveness and compassion before my flame burns itself out.

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