Posts Tagged ‘self love’

Lesson 10

Whenever I see someone else as guilty, I am reinforcing my own sense of guilt and unworthiness. I cannot forgive myself unless I am willing to forgive others. It does not matter what I think anyone has done to me in the past or what I think I may have done. Only through forgiveness can my release from guilt and fear be complete.

Today I choose to let go all my past misperceptions about myself and others. Instead, I will join with everyone and say: I see you and myself only in the light of true forgiveness. 


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For most of my life, I was under the false notion that if I HAD a certain thing (object of my desire) I would DO a certain thing and then BE that thing which I desired.

This type of thinking stemmed from years of trying to fill an emotional void from not having a mother and living with an abusive rage-aholic father. Having nice things made me FEEL whole and complete, even though at the time I didn’t realize I was covering my emotions so I could cope with my losses.

I was obviously unconscious about my own worth and relied on just about anyone to fill me in on my purpose in this life, (as if anyone knew). My main question, which always sounded more like an interrogation was always ‘why”, as in “why did you do this or why did you do that? If I could just get the answer to my life-long internal dilemma, then I would know “who I am” and what my purpose in life was “supposed to BE”.

I spent a lot of money on expensive material objects in an effort BE something/somebody. I thought if I had an expensive camera, that I would DO what professional photographers do (whatever that is) and then…I would BE a professional photographer, for example. If I had an expensive briefcase I would DO what business people DO…and then I would BE seen as a business person. I was under the notion that I had to HAVE a certain thing and DO a certain thing to BE that thing. How mistaken I was.

Overtime, I have come to the realization that I had it all backwards. Finally, I have discovered the real ME, without all the baggage attached, and without false ‘notions.’ It’s a different life! And now I know the correct order of things is BE, DO, HAVE. I know myself to BE a loving and caring individual, I DO what people with those attributes DO (express my emotions freely) my relationships have become an expression of love and I HAVE an amazing life!

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When I was six, I saw the red sign above my bed again. It said N.P.O. in big

white letters and “nothing by mouth” in small letters underneath. I felt my

heart skip a few beats before it formed a lump in my throat. I contemplated

feelings of sadness and betrayal while pondering my inevitable fate.

My first thought was that surely someone made a mistake in the night and

hung the sign over the wrong bed. But I knew better.

When I asked a nurse for a drink of water I saw her glance at the sign.

She answered with a friendly smile and said “NO, but your daddy left you

some pickled pigs feet … your favourite, and you can have them

when you come back”. Come back? I didn’t say anything, I knew better.

My lips were intensely parched and dry. A drink of cold water would have

been nice …anything to quench my thirst and provide relief for my

cracked lips. So I continued picking the dead skin off my lips until they bled.

It seemed to pass the time anyway, while everyone else ate breakfast.

Shortly after, a male nurse came into the room. I saw him show a piece of

paper to the duty nurse and she pointed to me. He came over to my bed,

released the brakes and said we were going for a ride.

I knew exactly what he meant. A RIDE TO HELL.

And he pushed the bed out the door and down the hall to the elevator.

Once inside he pushed “B”. My suspicions were proving correct. B was

for basement. It was where all the experiments were performed.

I watched the numbers change as we descended into HELL. 4 … 3 … 2 … 1 … B.

All was quiet.

A few seconds later the heavy gray doors rattled open.

He pushed the bed down a long dimly lit corridor which smelled like

floor wax mixed with Pine Sol.

There was a room at the end of the hall with the doors open wide, and we

were heading right for it. In my mind I was trying to block out the inevitable

torture, but there was nothing I could do about it now. So I just thought about

the pickled pig’s feet.

There were six or seven people in the room waiting for us to arrive; all wearing

faded green clothes. Their faces were covered with familiar green cloth tied

at the back. Only their eyes were exposed, revealing to me what I already


In the room there was a large overhead light that could be raised or lowered

from the ceiling, and several silver containers on the counter with surgical

instruments in them. Looking through the glass doors over the counter

I could see jars of cotton balls, popsicle sticks, gauze pads and band-aids.

I was transferred to a table under the bright light. No one spoke, but while

lying there it was easy to put names to all the faceless faces.

My eyes seemed intent on piercing the souls of my would-be abusers.

Around the table I easily recognized Doctors Dale, Abrahms, Israels, Singh,

Thompson, and Dr. Avery.

Yellow liquid was swabbed onto my chest,

followed by a green sheet with a hole in the middle, which was placed over me.

At the appropriate moment each doctor took hold of an arm or leg and held

me down so tight that I couldn’t move one inch, even if I wanted to.

I felt like a lamb for the slaughter.

 Dr. Dale approached the table. When she turned toward me a feeling of fear

and betrayal gripped me. She leaned toward me brandishing a long silver needle.

My heart started pounding staccato. She arched over my chest and proceeded

to pierce the skin with the razor sharp point.With continuous pressure she

drilled that needle right into my bones, penetrating the depths of

 my soul, into the marrow. With no anesthetic to dull the horrific pain,

I screamed and begged her to please stop. She was

relentless and completely oblivious to my plea for help. It was useless

to think anyone would save me, let alone care.

The whizzing of the drill caused blood and minute bits of ground

bone particles to fly around my head, and mixed with my salty tears

it formed a paste that caked onto my face and hair. When it was all over,

someone took me back to my room to sleep.

When I woke up, the sign was gone.

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Yes, from time to time when I’m giving myself the permission to love myself, it may appear to you that you are the one who has showered me with love feelings. The reality is that the love feelings I feel when I am with you come out of me.” This quote was from Terry Cole–Whittaker and her book What You Think of Me is None of My Business.

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In September 1959, I was 4 ½. I lay in a hospital bed, comatose, wrapped in ice old sheets in an effort to reduce the 106 degree fever. I was later told that the nurses were standing around the bed…crying, I had contracted acute blast cell leukemia, which the doctors thought was probably from playing in a field that had recently been sprayed with pesticide. With zero chance of survival and only hours to live, a minister was called in to perform last rites.

For 37 days I was in and out of a coma, had over 100 blood transfusions and several bone marrow transplants. With no anesthetic to dull the horrific pain, long needles were drilled into my sternum, piercing my soul, into the marrow.

When I returned as an outpatient I remember asking for a shiny red apple from a wicker basket on the desk at the nursing station. “We never saw a kid with such a strong will to live” the nurse replied. I wasn’t sure what those words meant but those words, instantly and forever burned into my subconscious memory. They became my silent mantra throughout my life.

Shortly after, my mom had a baby which my dad said wasn’t his and he gave her an ultimatum; either give the baby up for adoption or leave.

She chose the latter.

This left me and my younger brother and sister with our dad, who was ill-equipped to handle the situation. Unaware how the magnitude of this decision would negatively impact the rest of his life, he started drinking and became an abusive and neglectful rage-aholic… and I became his scapegoat.

‘You’re just a stupid fucking bitch and you’re never going to amount to anything”, he’d say with reckless abandon. Those words cut deep into my core and killed me emotionally. I grew to despise him and believed I was worthless and unlovable.

It was such a stark contrast to someone believing I was a kid with a strong will to live. My life continued to spiral downward to the depths of despair. I went inward to find solace from the hell…that was my life. I’m not sure which was worse; the physical pain or the emotional pain…just that the emotional pain lasted a lot longer.

My childhood conditioning continued into adulthood. I trusted no one. This lack of trust toward others made me feel that what was about to be experienced was either potentially hurtful or something to be avoided. This caused huge obstacles in my life, both personally and professionally.

I spent a great amount of time identifying with and trying to eradicate what I thought was “wrong” instead of discovering the lessons and learning from them.

With the help of professional life coach, we systematically worked through the Fearless Living program, giving me an opportunity to “choose again” by deliberately working to change my perceptions and attitudes and reducing the negativity associated with emotional trauma.

She reminded me continually “where there is lack of trust there is usually fear.” By not trusting others, I did not trust the urge to love that came from within me, and always being hyper vigilant kept my pervasive anxiety alive.

When I learned about my fears and how to face them, my life started changing. I wanted to be loved. Being able to share that love gave me the connection to my power and the ability to love and support others. When I learned that relationships are based on soul, I had the opportunity to gain a sense of meaning through them. Soul showed me a bigger picture by creating deeper connections to the true needs in my life and the lives of others.

I still struggle with some issues; when my buttons get pushed, for example, it takes a bit of time to process and when I realize the other person is…just a person, like me; this allows grace to fill the gaps and love to ignite my heart so it can flow freely once again.

When I finally resolved my internal dilemmas I came to the realization that the treasure is me, it’s you. It’s each one of us. We are the treasure. The treasure that lies at the end of our journey is to be found within ourselves.

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