“Everyone is worthy. It is only the looker who perceives unworthiness and the unworthiness comes from the perceived unworthiness of the looker, never from the one who is looked at.” ~ Dan Keating
What would it feel like if we accepted ourselves completely?
How would our lives be different if we weren’t our own harshest critics? Who would we be if we believed that by the very fact of being born, we were worthy and sufficient and significant?
I am not sure there is anyone on the planet who could talk to us about how this would truly feel, because we all—to some degree or another and at some stage in our lives—have had doubts, insecurities, fears.
We have probably all questioned our enough-ness.
At what point are we good enough?
How many of us believe that we are worthy? And what exactly is it we are unsure that we are worthy of? Love, happiness, a good life, money, good health? Why is there a concept of worthiness at all?
Shouldn’t we assume we are worthy because we are here?
Whether we are religious, spiritual or agnostic, the answer boils down to the same concept: I am worthy simply because I am here.
it is either self-evident by my very existence, God doesn’t make mistakes or the Universe put me here for a reason—whichever way it all boils down to worthiness.
I think that with some help from therapy or spirituality or—for the lucky few—spontaneity, we do become more accepting of ourselves as we get older. We inevitably become a bit less dependent on the good opinions of others and a bit more secure in our own thoughts and beliefs.
“Our entire society is based on discontent. People wanting more and more and more. Being constantly dissatisfied with their homes, their bodies, their décor, their clothes, everything—taking it for granted that that’s the whole point of life. Never to be satisfied. If you are perfectly happy with what you got, especially if what you got isn’t even all the spectacular then you’re dangerous. You’re breaking all the rules. You’re undermining the sacred economy. You’re challenging every assumption that society is built on.” ~ Tana French, The Likeness
I am not big on regrets, but I do wish that I had been smarter when I was younger. I wish I had known sooner that just being me was all the ticket I needed to get into the show called Life. I wish I had the confidence…no, that is not the right word.
I wish I had learned to relax into myself much sooner.
Yes, in some ways I did have confidence when I was younger—I could talk to a group and wear what I wanted. It wasn’t that kind of fear. It was more of an inner uptightness about not believing I was “on track,” doing the right thing, being enough.
I read somewhere that women in the workplace have this thing where they feel like impostors, like they are just pretending to know what they are doing. My whole life has felt like that. I didn’t just feel like a fraud at work, waiting for the shoe to drop and for everyone to find out I had been faking having a clue…I have often felt like that in my ‘real’ life. I even had dreams where I suddenly find myself in someone else’s life and I have to fake being them, knowing what is going on, doing what they do.
I used to dream I was Buffy or Harry Potter (but kind of still me), having to save the day, but not knowing how to use their skills or magic!
I realize now that I haven’t had that dream for a while. As I slowly become more and more comfortable with who I actually am and make my life choices accordingly (nope, no big revelations or secrets, just normal, everyday life choices), I find myself relaxing into being enough.
If my jokes fall flat, it is okay.
If I wear the wrong clothes, I am okay!
If the girl next to me in yoga looks like a supermodel in down dog, good for her!
If I sleep too much or not enough, or exercise, or don’t, or write or take a break, I am enough.
Some of this wisdom has just come with age. I am more accepting of my inner self as my outer self slowly becomes less of my identity.
Some of it has come from spending a lot of time in meditation and reflection; some from spending many hours wrestling with and making friends with my inner dark corners (I don’t think I ever had ‘demons’ as such, just an overly critical nag). Now, my now-ness is okay.
Where I am at is enough.
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Author: Tui Anderson
Editor: Renee Picard
Photo: Danielle Elder at Flickr
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