“Today I choose myself,” I said, lighting the candle on my altar. “Whatever that means!”
Hi, reader. How you doing? Are you trying to create change in your life? I’m trying to end addictive cycles of self-hate. The self-hate is related to relationship and where I get my self-worth.
I’ve been working on this for a while, and it’s a pain in the ass. It’s a ton of work. Honestly, I don’t recommend it. Much preferred would be if I didn’t get the errors in my mind / body / spirit body to begin with. Much preferred would be a functional culture where children and all people are treated respectfully and don’t accumulate a Santa bag full of trauma damage.
Yes, I am a struggle Santa, carrying around my bag of trauma damage. It’s hard work to set stuff down. And I don’t even get any milk and cookies.
It’s very 7 of swords. I didn’t steal it, but it’s not mine, and I need to give it back. The deception and trickery were not intentional–more like error. But I’ve drifted far from some areas of truth, thanks to the choices of sad adults 40 years ago. I work hard to correct course.
daily
Daily works well because then I know what to do. Lately every morning I light the candle on my altar and ask Mother God, Parent Earth, my mom, my ishtadeva, and really whatever angelic magical beings lounged about, to help me choose myself.
I choose myself as life, as opposed to choosing addiction and death. Lighting the candle and saying a one-sentence prayer is grounding and fun. It feels holy. I’m proud to ask for help.
But at this point, I’ve lit the candle and asked for this help so many times that it starts to get nonsensical. I like to do ridiculous things and keep doing them. Do you think I will push through to the other side, and get to a new understanding?
The first 20 times, it feels one way. Then sense starts to unravel from the activity. It reminds me of holding signs for peace at the Federal Building in Las Vegas when I was a Catholic Worker. We did that once a week for seven years.
After being flipped off for the 20th time that hour and listening to the asshole in a big truck yell, “Get a life!” or “Get a job!” it can feel tiring. Why are we doing this again? What do we think we’re accomplishing here?
crisis of faith
Crisis of faith is my favorite part. When I make a necklace, I need to include a mistake. The bead that doesn’t belong– the rich error.
I love mistakes. I do something again and again until the syllables fall apart into my soup, like half-dissolved beans in the savory broth. Yes, please. More, please.
“Today I choose myself” is a brief prayer, but I recommend it. Sometimes I tell Ming after, “Today I choose myself,” that I choose Ming too.
“I choose both of us,” I say. “What do you choose?”
Ming says they choose both of us too. This is a very loyal person. Ming keeps teaching me what love is.
