May 15, 2018
I was once a self-development junkie with the deepest intention to treat myself well and the misguided pursuit to "make myself better." In that very goal - having to be better than I already am - exists a chase, and a mild disappointment from how exhausting that feels. After years of pounding the pages to "be a better person," self-help reads became force-feeding, and I posted my collection on Amazon. Then I couldn't wait for them all to sell, so I gave them away, desiring separation from the deceptively instructive, energetically bossy methodologies. I wanted to trust myself enough to say "Fuck all this secondhand. What feels good to me? I've learned lifetimes in a three-year span. Now is my time to learn from what's already here. My knowledge, breath, spirit . . . that inner tickle that tells me Yes. The idea that drops directly into my consciousness at the perfect moment. I'm ready to reference the book of my own life experience."
I feel umpteen times more powerful, capable, smart and resourceful when I create with what I have, make healthy choices from where I stand, utilize my current knowledge base, learn for fun and the excitement of experiencing something new. When I get bored with the hunt for results and drop into The Feeling Place that forgets weight and waistline in favor of energy and strength. In The Feeling Place, I run barefoot in the grass because that's what I would do when I was five. I think about everything less - what I could've done better or how whatever I don't have seems to be what I need. In The Feeling Place, I simply hop along to the next adventure that pops up right in front of me.
Why buck the current with advice that feels hard and serious? Why be sentenced by the nagging mental judge that tells me I'm doing it wrong? What if I lived courageously full in The Feeling Place that guides with good vibes and inner knowing?
What could be more certain than my own truth?