Immensely Fortunate

I’ve changed in the last months. I’m on my path, well, the one I’ve always been on, but now I feel like I’m coming home, that there are answers to my questions and reason to my expectations. Now I know I can live life by myself, as myself. I know I can continue my self-growth in any circumstance, and that is empowering and reassuring.

I’ve been thinking a lot about self-love lately, and feeling for the seed within myself. I know it’s there, though dormant, and I’ve had a lot of feelings grow up around this expectation of self-love. I expect to feel a glow, a warmth, to feel untouchable in my me-ness; what I’ve come to understand is that I have to take care of myself first.

What does that mean? It means I do basic personal hygiene. I meditate. I communicate my confusion or assumptions or fears, I do activities that feed me and I don’t do what I really don’t want to – if I don’t want to go hiking, then I won’t. If I don’t want to work, then I won’t. If I don’t want to climb, then I won’t.

Doing these things keeps me whole. It balances me. I can approach a situation with an open mind and heart, look at the people involved, see what it is I can contribute, and give freely, openly, wholly. Without helping myself first, I don’t have enough energy for anyone else; I lean on others for their energy, their interest, their direction.

I am finding my way my way, learning to do for myself. Other people have found their ways, have found their personal practices that keep them balanced; this is what I feel I’ve been lacking all this time. When there was always a someone (be it boyfriend, or best friend) there to lean on, I wasn’t willing to develop a personal practice.

Now I am just myself, a realization that makes me . I almost said alone, but no one is ever really alone in this world of 7 billion people.

Now I can see that when I felt alone before, and ate and ate and ate to feel full, that I was really scared to look at myself.

Is that true? Was I just scared? Of who I might really be? I think there’s more to it than that. Why did I feel so alone so often in Bend? Because I shut myself off from everyone, didn’t ask for help because I was afraid to show myself, to open myself up to scrutiny when maintaining the façade of “being ok” seemed to be easier. It’s easy to lie about being happy, to fake it, to hide my true feelings so well that even I don’t know what I’m feeling anymore. I don’t cry during sappy movies anymore, and I don’t allow myself to express anger. Both of these are important, big emotions that need outlet. I’m learning to feel them, accept them without judging (oh, the hard part, not judging) and keep an open mind to what’s next. The whole year I spent in Bend, I didn’t allow myself to become truly close to anyone for fear of being found out – for not being honest. And from the fear of finding myself, of examining who this Anchen person is and what she really wants in life, what she’s capable of, what her weaknesses and strengths are, and what foot she puts forward?

I was afraid of looking at me and not liking what I found.

Luckily, I found two fantastic friends who have helped me find the courage to follow through with my desire to look at myself, to recognize and name my issues, who appreciate me with or without my bullshit, who recognize when I’m faking it, who don’t judge me for faking it, who are here to listen when I’m ready to be honest. Being in this environment has helped me to become me, a process I’ve been saying I want to go through for the last year.

Immensely fortunate is how I feel. Thank you.