“Be authentic in the way you dress, in the voice mail message you leave, in the contracts you negotiate, with what you bring into your home. Consistency creates momentum,” I said, microphone in hand.
“But what if I don’t know who my authentic self really is?” asked a voice from the audience.
Ah yes…Mortal coil and Man’s Search for Meaning. Good point.
Here’s the answer: Your true self lives in your desires. You can find what’s most meaningful and sincere inside your cravings, your longings, in the stuff you want. The impulses of your heart are evolutionary imperatives. Heed the beat.
Even if your current reality looks nothing like your desired reality, even if you’re feeling like a big fat loser on the scale of positive self image, know that your soul has left you a little trail of popcorn to get you out of the dark woods. The kernels may look like this:
Being true to yourself is not always easy. For fear of not being accepted, we tailor our personality, mince our words, and carve our opinions to fit in. It takes courage to be real – and it takes stamina because if you want the best out of life, it will demand the best of you time and time again.
When you choose to be real, there will likely be tough choices and 11th-hour changes. There will be misunderstandings, uncomfortable silences, and sometimes, there will be isolation.
THIS WEEK: Ask yourself when it is that you feel like giving up. What discourages you, or tempts you to doubt that sweetness is on the way? Now, write down three remedies for discouragement… Lunch with your best friend; a visit to church; a night out dancing; warm soup, eaten in silence. Do just one of those things this week to keep your stamina strong.
Here’s a little cluster of thoughts that went through my mind one morning this week:
Get up: “I shouldn’t check my email first thing in the morning. Bad bad. Should be making a hot breakfast for my kid and stretching first.”
Brush teeth: “I should have taken better care of my teeth when I had braces.”
Sit at desk: “I should respond to all the writers who are pouring their hearts out to me. They must think I don’t value them.”
Still sitting at desk: “I should have sent flowers to Phoebe for her birthday. What a lame Godmother I am.”
I’m starting to realize that the self-critical chatter in my mind is staggering, really. Beneath the belief that my thoughts contribute significantly to my reality, behind my commitment to the intentional use of words, and next to my sweet knowing that I am a child of a magnificent Universal Love, is a bitter judge. She races to critique my every feeling, thought and action. The bitch must be exhausted.
From full-tilt transformation to small habits, just slightly adjusted…
Carrie says: I was snobby and righteous. I’m kinder, softer with myself and others.
Danielle says: The more I know, the less I have to say. I’m more comfortable with silence, and I have less of a need to be seen as the really smart girl at the party.
Goose bumps, angels singing, warm fuzzies - everyone has a metric for decisions that feel destined to work.
Carrie says: A teacher once told me that decide means, “to cut off, to kill off.” I like the word choice. The right choice for me feels easy, graceful with no hesitation, 99% of the time my intuition is right, like a baby’s whisper. When that feeling is not present I am learning to take time to be reflective and arrive at a choice that is right for me.
Danielle says: I call it “art gallery mind.” Clear. Calm. Well lit. With a very slight rush of awe.
“Be authentic in the way you dress, in the voice mail message you leave, in the contracts you negotiate, with what you bring into your home. Consistency creates momentum,” I said, microphone in hand.
