It’s Thursday. Blog writing day. I want to be all sunny today, writing lovely positive words.
Nope. My inner two-year-old took over on Monday and is having an extended tantrum.
‘No’ is my word right now. No, I don’t want to work on my book. No, I don’t want to draw. No, I don’t want to read anything enlightening. No, no, no, and no.
The funny thing is I am totally okay with writing my morning pages. Usually these are what I resist doing. Not this week. My inner two-year-old is taking great delight in having permission to whine, complain, be ratty and growly as much as she pleases in the morning pages.
In fact I have given myself full permission to be as ornery as I want for as long as I want. I have decided to embrace my inner tantrumy-self.
Usually I try to push my bad attitudes away. Cure them somehow. Cheer myself up. Force myself to be upbeat.
But halfway through Tuesday’s morning pages I write, ‘I am tired of pushing myself.’ Six words. They stop me in my tracks. I sit there, pen and mind stilled. I say out loud, ‘Oh.’
I can feel the truth of this. I want to love myself exactly as I am. Always pushing and always reaching doesn’t let me be settled with who I am right now. Instead, it keeps saying ‘not good enough’.
I’m tired of being not good enough.
I need to love myself now. My inner two-year-old needs love and hugs. I need to be loved for who I am, however I am, always. No exceptions. Love myself whether I am having a tantrum like now, or whether I am feeling clear and light and joyful.
Love all my moods. Love all my flaws. Love all my talents. Love all my beauties. Love the whole of me that makes me human. Love me, Cat, the wabi sabi human.
This says I am good enough now. This says I love myself now and I am lovable now. This says I am perfectly imperfect.
I can handle being a wabi sabi human.