There is an endless buzz of chatter in my head.
Sometimes I tell myself nice things:
You are such a kick ass [wife, daughter, nurse, friend etc.]
You are really good at [laughing, scratching the dog’s ears, playing harp music]
and then, of course, there is the negative, judgmental bullshit:
You really suck at [assembling Chinese-made furniture, calling your relatives, making small talk]
You look like shit today, and your thighs are basically disgusting
That’s an awesome idea, but you can’t pull it off
And even worse, projecting that kind of negativity towards others
You are a lot better than him because of [x, y, z]
She is clearly a fucking idiot
Its exhausting, and its all a load of crap.
If I’ve gotten anything from my daily mini meditation sessions, its being able to pull away, ever so slightly from the chatter. Its still there, buzzing away. But sometimes the light burns through the smoke, and I can see a bit clearer.
Who I am is not my job, how I look in a dress, how I interact with others. Who you are is not the balance of your bank account statement, how many friends you have on Facebook, how many countries stamped in your passport. We aren’t even good or bad. We just are.
Maybe this is the void, to be everything and nothing at all.
It is scary for me to face this truth, to break away from old ways of looking at things. I have spent much of my life valuing my worth based on how much you love me. I have suffered because of this. You have suffered because of this. Nobody can love me enough.
But see, there is light breaking through my bullshit. The stories we tell ourselves are just that: stories. They are as thin as the air we breathe. It doesn’t matter what I think, what you think. Deep down, there is silence and there is peace. Its the stuff we all are made of.