Sunday, January 18, 2009

How Do I Love Me?

"Take out another notebook, pick up another pen, and just write, just write, just write. In the middle of the world, make one positive step. In the centre of chaos, make one definitive act. Just write. Say yes, stay alive, be awake. Just write. Just write. Just write."

I have noted down these words by Natalie Goldberg on my desktop to remind me that writing is the best salvo for all the trials of life and to save myself from classic symptoms of withdrawal when I am deprived of my work environment for too long.
I always say to anyone who is interested in listening that 'writing is my first love'. It is. I keep coming back to it after exploring 'other loves'.
When it comes to writing 'big think pieces' I like to imagine myself as an expert. I write with command and confidence. I am never short of words and thoughts just flow unchecked. I get enough feedbacks to keep me enthusiastic and positive. To keep on writing.

However....recently I was asked to write a letter to myself.
A letter to myself? I never ever thought of that. I am also not the 'Dear Diary' kind of person. Even in my personal journals I write like I am talking to an audience. I never let myself go enough to delve deep inside and 'talk' to myself. I always feel as if someone is standing behind and peeping over my shoulder. Watching me. I have to measure every word. Craft it carefully.
When Dan asked me to try writing a letter to myself I was at complete loss for words. I was floundering ...I was like a kindergarten kid, trying to hold the pen properly...Words looked laborious and unforgiving to me.
How difficult is it to address our self ? To meet our self? To love our self?
Dan asked me if I love myself. As a life coach he is used to coming across people who always find it so difficult to answer this.
Well...I am no exception.
I am reminded of a couplet by- Rumi.

“To be or not to be is not my dilemma. To break away from both worlds Is not bravery. To be unaware of the wonders That exists in me, that Is real madness” !

Rumi spoke of me. Or perhaps many of us who are unaware of the wonders that exist in us. Wonders that we preach the world about, but never pause to apply it in our lives.
Why am I so reluctant to befriend, romance and inveigle myself ?
Maybe if I could just write an authentic letter to myself without fear.... Good Luck to me!

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