So it turns out I’m addicted to shovelling the snow from the driveway; it’s where all my best epiphanies come through. I’m not sure if it’s the cold air or the physical labour, but the clarity seems to come with the rose on my cheeks.
On a brisk evening a couple weeks ago, I realized that perhaps I was a writer with a bit of a vulnerability aversion. It’s not so much that I didn’t value the truth; in fact, I felt deeply aligned with the gifts of freedom that come with the truth. What I didn’t realize, though, was that I was wrapping my truths in free gift wrap instead of premium paper… and maybe that was the responsible, economical thing to do, but it wasn’t allowing them to soar freely or find anyone who would benefit from receiving them.
Every time I heard what others were going through, my entire being felt how deeply blessed I was. Once in a blue moon, that made feel the energy of the lowest vibration: guilt. I remember feeling like an ugly duckling in middle school, and then before I knew it I was twenty years old, and I felt so beautiful that it made my head spin. For that, I felt guilty. I wanted to feel beautiful, but not too beautiful.
I remember dampening my enthusiasm for nerdy things in high school. I had a deep love of books – one that far outweighed my desire to have a boyfriend. I had a love for learning, for growing, for becoming all that I could be, but that didn’t really align with the status quo… so I underplayed it. I felt confident, intelligent, and independent, but I didn’t want to flaunt it. This created a weird cycle of shame and insecurity. I felt like I was too shy and simultaneously too much. I felt such tremendous blessings within me, and I thought that if I let all that shine through, then someone else might begin to feel less than because of me – like they were not enough just as they were.
The truth of it is this: I’ve always known that everyone is enough, just as I have always known that I am whole and perfectly imperfect the way I am. You know, I think life is meant to teach us that we have always been exactly what we’re yearning to be. When we forget all the forgetting, the truth is revealed. We are love. I am love. There’s nothing to prove, nothing to achieve; yet, there’s everything to do, everything to continually become. And you know what? That sounds perfect to me.