Sometimes you have to allow yourself to get a little lost. Just like you have to open yourself up and be vulnerable to truly connect with others, you also sometimes have to lose a bit of that worldly shell you've spent your lifetime building up in order to find some piece of your true self that has been there all along.
And that's the easy part.
Once you've found that piece of your true self, you have to nurture it and give it room to flourish. You have to give yourself permission to be your true self even if doing so makes you vulnerable. And vulnerability is exactly what we spend the first half of our lives trying to avoid.
I protect myself by throwing myself into projects. But projects end, and I am still here. Although lately it has seemed like a little less of me was here. I used to lose myself in knitting, or sewing, or writing, or cooking. But I have managed to ignore all those things. Oh I write here occasionally. I'm sure you've noticed that I write, then I stop, then I pick at it again. I've been playing the role of the dilettante with my own heart, indulging my impulses a little bit, and then, just when I start to really put in any effort, pulling back.
But why?
Because I am afraid.
What, exactly, am I afraid of? Am I afraid of losing myself in something? Perhaps. Am I afraid of doing the work to master new skills? No not really, anything worth doing is worth taking time and effort to master. I'm getting closer though, perhaps the critical phrase is "worth doing". Am I afraid that my impulses, my hopes and dreams and inner longings aren't worth indulging? Am I afraid that if I indulge my intimations and dreams, if I admit and honor the things that really drive me, that are important to me, that I will only learn how much of an incompetent failure I really am? Uh oh. That is a little too uncomfortably close to the truth.
I realize, although how I found myself through this maze of confusing thoughts and experiences is beyond me, that it is not about internal vs external, doing vs being, introverted vs extroverted, helping others vs helping yourself. All of these things are but mirrors deflecting my awareness from some greater, far more uncomfortable truth. I can't honor the external, the world, without honoring the internal. I can't honor my social, world-caring impulses, without honoring the private, internal, creative impulses. I can't help others unless I help myself. I can't love others unless I love myself.
Oops. I've said it. I can't love others unless I love myself. When things get too close, too vulnerable, when I get too close to falling into that pit of love, I pull back. I don't want to pull back, but I do. And I only pay lip service to loving myself, to truly loving myself, to loving myself enough that I give myself permission to be myself fully, not just the parts I think the world wants me to be, but the parts I want myself to be, all the creative impulses, all the insecurities and fears.
Baby steps. I have to take baby steps. Occasionally I am sure I will make a misstep; I will fall and stumble, but I will try not to fall back into the void.
And so I give myself permission to lose myself in creative pursuits. I give myself permission to follow a dream even if the end point or benefit is not immediately obvious. I give myself permission to put myself first when I need to put myself first. I give myself permission to make mistakes, and sometimes make wrong decisions, and to ask for forgiveness when I do so. Mostly I give myself permission to learn to love all of myself, even the secret vulnerable bits.
