Brenda It has been difficult for me to be still. I am laid back and primarily easy-going, but being still used to be difficult. Several years ago, I began meditating in earnest. I wanted to learn how to calm my mind and be more present. So, I began a daily practice. It wasn’t too hard to calm my mind and learn to observe without judgment. The hard part was taking the time for myself. I enjoyed it once I took the time, but I still often cut it short because I “should be doing something else.” I didn’t understand why I had such difficulty taking the time for myself.
After meditating for a few years and learning to be still and take time for myself, I began to understand why it was so difficult for me to take time. I was co-dependent and didn’t know who I was, what I wanted, or even whether I deserved to have time to myself. It took a long time for me to realize that I was just as important as the other people in my life and that I deserved to be happy, too.
Meditation helped me to fix the problem that was making it hard for me to meditate. I can’t think of anything else that solves the problem of itself, with itself. Sounds very yin-yang to me. The other thing that meditation is helping me solve is being able to take the time I need to write. I have wanted to be a writer my whole life but struggled with concentration, application, and consistency. It always depended on what was happening in my life rather than making my words a priority. But if I didn’t value myself and my time, how would I value my words? It has to start at the deepest level. Self-love. If you don’t love yourself, you don’t value yourself or anything you might produce. So, to be a writer, I had to focus on the person writing.
The other issue was that if I wanted to write genuinely, I needed to know who I was to know my own opinion. It can all get very complicated, but as I understood the need to love myself and began working on daily practice, I began to feel the words rise in me. The urge to write came over me and wouldn’t be denied. It was what I’d heard about other writers, things that made me question if I indeed was a writer, but now it was happening to me. I would sit down to write a few words, and hundreds would pour out. I didn’t have a hard time concentrating for the time I wrote. I wouldn’t feel the urge to quit soon after I’d started. It was incredible to me. I’d worried that there was something wrong with me. I wanted to be a writer, but I struggled so hard to write. I now understood why it’s a cliche, the blocked writer. It’s because we have something to say, but the most crucial person in our life doesn’t give a shit. Us. We, the people inside, need to care about what we have to say, or who else will?
I used to be so scared to trust in myself. It was why I wouldn’t stick to things or spend the time needed to do something well. Now, I trust myself to stay the course. Why? Because I believe in me. For the first time, it doesn’t matter what others think of me. The most important opinion is mine. That may sound arrogant, narcissistic, or both, but it’s not. It’s a simple truth that our religious-laden society would have us deny. If you genuinely love yourself, you couldn’t be a narcissist. When you discover your worth, you realize how connected you are to everyone else. And you have to treat everyone the same, the way you want to be treated. It’s insecurity, not self-love, that makes us grab everything we can for ourselves. It’s because, without self-love, there exists a black hole in the center of you that sucks everything worthwhile into it and turns it into nothing. There isn’t a thing that can fill that black hole but love, true love. And the truest of love can only come from within.
Once I grasped this simple but life-transforming truth, everything became so much easier. I no longer felt the need to do what the people around me might have expected. I say might have because how many times have you done something the people around you told you they wanted you to do? Most of the time, we assume the opinions of those around us. And most of the time, we’re wrong. Regardless, my opinion became the one that mattered because I am the only one who has to live my life. So, it should matter what I think. I began to write again. I began to read and be quiet in my house again. I left a relationship that wasn’t good for me and was so much happier. I discovered a man who loves my genuine self rather than his version of me.
Ladies, we are our own worst enemies. We try so many things to find that special love. Changing ourselves, even using plastic surgery, thinking that men are looking for a perfect version of a woman. We try to be what we think he’ll want when all he’s looking for is the same thing we are—someone who matches us, shoring up our weaknesses as we do his. Our yin to his yang. He does not want a perfect vision but something real. Who can embrace a vision? He wants to embrace a real woman. The woman you are. No one else can be exactly like you.
You’re unique and special in a way that a man will want to worship, protect, ravage, and serve for his entire life. It isn’t a fantasy; it’s true, but it doesn’t come easy. I’m here to bear witness to that. My journey hasn’t been easy in any way, but it has been worth every moment to lead me to the place I am. I wouldn’t change it for anything.
