Some days it feels like I may be doing alright; that I have successfully trained my mind to focus on the most beautiful things. Then, comes the invariable swing of the pendulum in the opposite direction. This side screams that I am worthless, that I have no right to expect anything beautiful, that I will never be more than I am now. What makes that voice so loud? Louder even than the words of those I love telling me that I am worthy, and strong, and brave, and fucking capable.
Does it have to do with the instinct for survival? Is it years of learned self hatred? Is it a mentality of victimhood? A way for me to lay the culpability at the feet of another, some grand and unknowable force?
I don’t have the answers to these questions just yet. Or, maybe, I do. Maybe it is ‘yes’ to all of the above. Maybe that’s the first step for me. Acknowledging that sometimes I let my thoughts run rampant, like my dog off a leash: sometimes he comes back, but mostly he just wants to chase butterflies.
I am still learning. Michelangelo said that, and it is as true for me as it was for him. I am not perfect. I will make mistakes. I will hurt people that I love. I will veer off course. I guess what makes me strong, brave, and fucking capable is that I am willing to admit that. Regardless of what goes on around me, I am still me. A human. A spirit. Full of inherent value and worth. A beacon of love and light.
I guess that’s the lesson, then: to carry on. Onward and upward.