The Song of My Truths

What precious little lambs are you sacrificing to feel belonging? 

So many of us seek affirmations from others, others who are seeking affirmations from others, who too are seeking affirmations from others... 

What if we gifted ourselves affirmations? What if we listened deeply to our inner knowing? What if we loved ourselves more deeply, more completely?

We won't find deep belonging with others until we first find it within. Only then will we be free to see that we are all connected in community, within humanity, and part of this enormous and powerful universal energy. Only then, in our pure authenticity, are we free to be and free to belong. 

We need belonging. We as babies, for instance, need so much. Then still as small children. We need assistance, guidance, and love. We need to know that we belong. That we are safe. That we are cherished.  

As we grow, there will come a time when we lose ourselves to the expectations of others. We will wear costumes. We will walk in a funny sort of way. And our voices will not sound quite right. When this happens, we must (quickly or eventually) bring ourselves to the mirror of our truths. 

There, in silent stillness, we will hear our hearts cry out, "Oh! Wait. This isn't me."

And then, "Oh. Here I am. Yes, this is where I find my bliss. This is how I want to live."

My belly has always sung the song of my truth. Sometimes, the song is soft and I must reach into silence to hear it. Sometimes, the song fills the sky like a storm, blowing me in or out a door. And sometimes, the song is clobbered by the cacophony and clutter of culture, and I am left feeling confused. It is during these moments that I must return to the mirror, to the quiet, and allow the song of my truths to rise once again. 

What precious little lambs are you sacrificing to feel belonging?

 

I sacrificed my little lambs many times: my lamb of authenticity, my lamb of self-worth, and my lamb of self-love. 

Now, nearing 39, I hold my precious little lambs in my arms. I let them slumber in the sun. And I feed them all the grass, clover, and water that I can muster.