The story of your life is unfolding right now, at this very moment.
Choose what you will do today, how you will invest your time, what you will learn, how you will grow, who you will be.
The pen is in your hand; the ink is flowing. Tell your story. Tell it the way you want it told.
Tell it well.
You are greater than you know. You are more than you believe.
No matter what credentials, diplomas, status, or net worth you have (or don’t have), you possess the power to change your surroundings, your habits, your career, your life. You are more powerful than you know. What you say, think, and do impacts those around you. You create ripples in the pool of life. You have power. Use it. Bless others. Do good.
You are more beautiful than you feel. Although you long for beauty, to be it, to have it, to hold it, to be united with it, you are glorious just as you are. Yes. Don’t believe the lies of the media, our culture, glossy magazine covers, or social media posts. They are fantasy, untrue. There is a beauty that lays hidden from plain sight; it’s more profound, more vibrant, more authentic than what we see. It can be cultivated and grown in anyone, in you. The real beauty is the person you are, your kindness, gentleness, integrity, justice, love. By those, anyone can beam with blazing splendor.
You are more capable than you think. Don’t let the voices inside you, around you, the mistakes from the past, the fears of the future, sway you from seeing what you can do. You can learn new skills, start a venture, pursue a dream. It’s not beyond you. Every day is an opportunity to try. It’s before you always, beckoning. The only person holding you back is you. Go.
You are more competent than you think. Maybe you’ve failed here and there. But don’t count them as signs of incompetence. See them as opportunities to learn. You aren’t a failure; you’re experienced, seasoned. You’ve been around the block and got mugged and lived to tell the tale. You’re a survivor. Now it’s your chance to thrive. And you have enough smarts and skills to do more than you can imagine. Take your experience, interests, and effort and create something. It’s in you. You can. Try.
Cast off the negativity, naysayers, self-criticism, hate. There’s too much of that already.
See your capacity to achieve, change, grow.
You are more than you think.
Believe.
Peace. Let it wash over you, soothing you like an embrace of a loved one, as you ease yourself into this vision.
You are in a beautiful garden, surrounded by blooming flowers, red, orange, violet, indigo, yellow. The green is greener than you’ve ever seen it, covering rolling hills, treetops, bushes. It’s vibrant and rich. The sky is deep blue, and the sun is bright. A warm breeze caresses your skin like a lover. You release.
A stroll among the foliage along a stone path looks delightful, so your feet whisk you there. Then you slow your pace to drink the moment in. It’s intoxicating. Your fingers are outstretched, brushing the blooms around you, and you hear birds chirping songs of joy. The path softly curves this way and that, drenched in colors, leaves, shafts of light, and beauty.
You see a grassy knoll, and you decide to lie down and bathe in the sun’s luminous embrace. You can’t help but smile because it’s too wonderful, too glorious, too good. You’re soaking in all of it, absorbed in glory, basking in the bounty.
And memories begin to visit you like old friends you’ve missed and longed to see, and there you are reunited. You’re a child playing gleefully, freely, unencumbered, without a care. You remember the happiest moment of your life and relive it and relish in it.
Then, you journey into the present, and you see objects, people, and opportunities for which you are grateful, and it reminds you of how richly adorned you. And you can see clearly.
You are blessed.
Everyone laughed, and I was the butt of the joke. I hated it. But I realized something about life.
A group of us sat around a large circular dining table, and a newly married couple started talking about how they met. It was a great story with surprising twists and turns. And then a guy shared about him and his girlfriend and how he wasn’t sure how it was going to work out. So I said something from my story to comfort him. It was revealing and somewhat vulnerable. But I thought it would help him, so I put myself out there. Then he turned it around and made it into a joke about me–and everyone laughed heartily.
It felt like being kids on the playground, except we were in our thirties and forties. It was silly, but real.
It’s most introverts nightmare—to be outed, and publicly, and I’m an introvert. The embarrassment didn’t show on my face. But it was there, along with disappointment and disdain.
Afterward, as I played the moment over in my head more times than I’d like to admit, I was tempted to stop opening myself up to others. It seemed futile, useless. But truth be told, the utility had nothing to do with my reaction; I just wanted to protect myself.
And I realized that I shouldn’t let any person stop me from giving of myself, being vulnerable, sharing my story—even the revealing parts—and living as I ought. Brené Brown, in her book Daring Greatly (affiliate), writes that vulnerability is fundamental to our being.
“Vulnerability is the core of all emotions and feelings. To feel is to be vulnerable. To believe vulnerability is weakness is to believe that feeling is weakness. To foreclose on our emotional life out of a fear that the costs will be too high is to walk away from the very thing that gives purpose and meaning to living.”
Brené Brown
We shouldn’t let others stop us from sharing our lives, opening our hearts, living with purpose. The cost is too high: we would lose you.
You have ideas, insights, knowledge, feelings, stories that can impact those around you for good. They are the inner workings you’ve been ruminating on over the years. Share them. Yes, someone may make you the butt of their joke; they may transport you back to middle school. But that doesn’t diminish the great value you can give to the world. Give generously.
Be vulnerable.
Sometimes forgetting is the best thing you can do to become who you were meant to be.
Forget that you feel like a failure and that you can’t do this or that and the mistake you made back then.
Forget thinking that you’re not enough, that you don’t look a certain way, have the credentials, talent, network, or the perfect quaff of hair.
Forget comparing yourself to others who have more of more—more money, friends, cars, sex, lovers, homes, children, followers, beauty.
Forget the shame and guilt that you carry around you like lead weights; you aren’t what you think you are; you are far greater, more magnificent and beautiful than you can imagine.
Forget the anxiety, the negative stories, the imperfection, the stress, the haters and the hate. Forget all that hinders you from reaching your potential.
And remember this.
You are enough.
Be kind to yourself today.
You might have screwed up, but you’re not a screwup.
You might have made a mistake, but you aren’t a mistake.
You are worthy. You are lovable. You are beautiful.
Punishing yourself will not right the wrong. That would only add to it.
Forgive yourself. Let it go. Move forward.
Love yourself.
The pic below made my day when I saw it. So I thought it might brighten up yours and help you get on the path of self-compassion.
If you want to read a book to help you with this, I recommend Daring Greatly by Brené Brown (affiliate link).
It’s a fantastic read, what helped me see my need for self-compassion.
A gas station attendant made me pay a dollar for hot water (which I thought was absurd) and treated me rudely. And I learned something.
It was compassion.
It was a magical day. My family and I went apple picking. We drove down two-lane highways surrounded by wood and canopied by leafy branches that were starting to show signs of fall. The air was crisp, and the sun was beginning to break free from the clouds. The orchard was small, but the apples were sweet. We picked some Fuji and Gold Delicious. We felt rich.
And after lunch, a pony ride, and feeding some farm animals with our kid; we decided to return to the city. We shared our favorite memories of the day before we got back to our building.
The rental car needed to be returned, but, before that, I had to refill the tank. And there’s a station fairly close, so I went there. I got to the pump and pumped. And, as I jumped in the seat to leave, I saw my empty paper cup with my teabag that I usually use twice before I throw it away, but only used once. I went into the gas station to fill my cup up and get the most out of my teabag. I had my phone in the car and didn’t want to linger in the store. So, I ran in and filled up the cup and ran out.
And as I was leaving, I hear, “Excuse me!” I check the car for my phone and then pop back in.
“Yes,” I say, as the hulking attendant glares at my cup of freshly steeping tea. “It’s my cup and tea, and I just got hot water for it.”
“Would you just barge into someone’s living room and take hot water?” the attendant asked.
I didn’t think it had anything to do with living rooms or hot water. He thought I stole from his shop and realized I just got hot water. So he wanted to save face. He did that by telling me to pay him for the hot water. It was outrageous, but I asked him how much to see what outrageous costs. He told me one dollar; I tossed it onto the counter, wished him a nice day, jumped into the car, and zipped away to return my rental.
As I drove uptown, I was seething as I replayed the situation in my mind. I was drenched in anger and incensed with injustice. All of the bliss from the day was melting away. “It’s not the dollar; it’s the principle of the thing,” I told myself, feeding the fire.
Then I realized something that changed my whole perspective. It was this.
Pain is contagious. People who are in pain tend to inflict it on others. When one is in misery, they often make others miserable. I mean, anyone who likens a gas station to their living room can’t be enjoying their life that much.
That perspective extinguished the fire of anger I had for him. He made me feel momentary pain, but he seems to dwell in it. I had compassion for him, and that stopped my pain from him and allowed me to be pained for him.
And if we all took a moment to stop and reflect on what the person who hurt us may be experiencing, we might, just might, make this world a little better.
If nothing else, you will be.
No matter how many likes, hearts, or comments you get, you are enough. Yes. You are.
We’ve always lived in a world where we’ve compared ourselves with others; the problem is now we have ample data to measure our comparisons.
If we get less engagement than we want on a post, we feel like we are less, somehow subhuman.
But you aren’t; you are enough.
You are a son, a daughter, a friend, a colleague, a human.
You love and are loved. You create, contribute, make. But you don’t just do; you are.
You are a person, not just a profile.
You are a living being.
Remember that.
Remember that engagement doesn’t make you enough.
Being who you are does.
More. It’s one of the greatest lies there is.
More money, more sex, more friends, more cars, more education, more this, more that will help me be happy, fulfilled, feel better about myself. But it never does.
Yes, More can bring happiness. But it’s there; then it’s not. It’s a flash, a moment. Then it’s gone.
And we are left with this empty feeling, an old ache that no amount of ointment, medicine, gifts, success, fame, can sooth.
No. More is not what we need. What our hearts long for is this.
Better.
You don’t need more crap. Stop buying more. No one needs that much clothes, gadgets, toys, furniture, stuff. Instead, give away what doesn’t add real value to your life.
And, if you buy anything else, only invest in better things, ones that you really need or enjoy, ones that add richness, euphoria, bliss, delight, and function to your life.
We don’t need more friends; we need better friendships, ones that are deep, rich, sacred, trusted. We need intimacy. When they say I love you, it doesn’t sound hollow. It’s as solid as the ground you stand on. It’s real.
We don’t need more pleasure, finding that next person to bed, the delicious meal to devour, the foreign destination to explore. Sure, they can tickle us, but aren’t we longing for something else, something further away from us, unreachable?
In my life, I’ve noticed that what I really long for isn’t here, in this world. What I search and pine for always eluded me. It’s a phantom.
It’s like an echo of a tune you’ve never heard, a glimpse of a blinding beauty you have never seen, an aroma of a fare you’ve never tasted; yet, there you are, yearning for it.
It is there. It’s the Better. It’s a world beyond this one, a better world.
It’s transcendent.
We want to succeed, improve our work, write better. So we grind away, working more, harder, believing that’s what we should do.
But that’s wrong.
Yes, we need to work hard. And yes, that often equates to long hours, dogged days, grinding away.
Yet, there are times when no matter how many hours you put in, hard work just doesn’t work. In fact, working harder works against you.
When the ideas stop flowing, solutions don’t arise, or words stop prancing from your fingers, that’s a good indicator that you need to do something different, drastically different.
That’s when the best thing you can do is this. Stop. Walk away. Rest. Roll your chair back and take a walk around the block, maybe even go for a hike.
Sometimes even that’s not enough. You need to unplug. Get out of your phone, out of the state, out of the country, for days, weeks. You need to get lost.
You need rest.
Resting can be the best thing for your work. It’s where you can recharge your energy cells, your brain, your heart, your soul.
When you’re lost, read a book, a novel, something entertaining, something that makes you laugh. Paint a landscape painting, journal in your Moleskin, drink good wine. Do anything else but work.
And you will feel yourself being restored; the space to recuperate will leave you refreshed. You will be renewed. You’ll feel the energy to work return.
When you get back to your desk, you will find that the ideas will flow afresh, solutions will come anew, and words will dance from your fingers again.
As a result, your work will be better.
Great work comes with good rest.
