I am being spanked so hard by life right now, so magnificently confronted with what feels like every single limiting belief I have around what it is to be strong. Lovingly yet firmly guided, to see that anything other than truly walking my talk is no longer possible.
Awakening from a life-time of judging and inwardly condemning that which I have perceived as weak, the consequence of my obsession of staying ‘strong’, is that I am chronically exhausted, have frequently isolated myself and created a life that is no longer sustainable, nor enjoyable.
Maybe it’s because me and life have been having some heart to hearts recently, and came to the consensus this can’t really continue, and so I get to have a series of chances to let old beliefs die, one after the other…. my fear of asking for help, depending on others, feeling and caring deeply, showing emotion publicly, admitting struggle, owning my needy little girl, surrendering, trusting and opening my heart to a man again. I have spent a life-time keeping certain sides of myself secret, because I have deemed them as weak.
The paradox: what if we discover our strength by owning and revealing the parts of us we judge as weak?
This is me.
Tender and fierce, melancholy and exuberant, full of doubt and self-possession, breakable and resistant, capable and yet utterly dependent, wild and contained, a wise witch and a lost little girl.
There is nothing that I am not.