spiritual inquiry

What is the practice of self-love?

Self-love is not about affirmations or proclamations. It’s not about pretending to be happy, going to the gym, doing yoga, or eating a vegan diet. It is a practice; a difficult, often scary, daily mental exercise that you can do sitting on your couch. It’s more important than anything else you do, any day of the week. If you don’t practice self-love, then you don’t have any love to give anyone else in your life.

It’s about looking inward and getting in touch with your vulnerabilities; your darkest, most terrifying thoughts. It’s about being gentle and compassionate with your screaming inner child. It’s honoring your authentic self, and listening for the divine wisdom of your intuition. It’s learning to say yes to what your heart asks of you; and learning to say no to anything that goes against your truth.

The relationship you build with yourself through this practice is the most important relationship you will ever have. Cherish it.

I am responsible for what I say. But I am not responsible for what you hear.

This is one of my favorite quotes by don Miguel Ruiz. It is such a profound piece of wisdom. When you “get” what this really means, it has the power to transform your life entirely. I’ve been thinking about this subject a lot lately.

Try as we might, we cannot control what other people think of us. We all want to be thought of as “good” people, but the reality is that everyone hears, sees, and judges others through their own filters in the mind. People make assumptions and judgments based on what they believe about themselves and their own realities. There is very little you can do about that in relation to another person.

When you realize this, you stop trying so hard to affect what others think of you. You just do and say whatever is in your own integrity, guided by your own truths. And how people react is entirely their business. Let them have their reactions. When you stop seeking love and approval outside yourself, you can experience the incredible joy of real freedom.

Letting go…

shutterstock_83671309Letting go of your past can be very scary; not just to your own mind, but to those around you as well. You’ve come to rely deeply on the stories you tell yourself about who you are, what you’ve done, and what’s been done to you.

Making the choice to set down all the baggage, and look with fresh eyes, loving, honest, and compassionate eyes, can be daunting.

The ego won’t like it; I can assure you of that. But when you decide that the time has come, you will see how quickly and easily all those stories dissolve. A tiny little crack is all it takes to let the light come rushing in.

Set down the stories, release yourself of all those burdens and misunderstandings, and let your love shine again.

(photo courtesy of shutterstock)

Is meditation the new black?

I came across this article, by John Horgan, questioning the benefits of the new meditation craze. I thought he made some interesting observations, and on some level I agree with him. I sent him the following email; probably worthwhile to share here as well.

I think that one of the issues with meditation is that proper instructions are not included. Sitting still and trying to “not meditating-buddha-1542957think” is not what it’s about. You are correct that meditation, in and of itself, does very little. Just having a meditation practice doesn’t make you happier, or more peaceful, or nicer. It’s what one does during meditation that leads to awakening (or doesn’t, as the case may be for most people). What’s missing in most traditions (as they are presented in the mainstream), is the method of self-inquiry. (It’s what you’re actually supposed to “do” during meditation).


When you look within…

This is a beautiful excerpt from The Art of Sexual Magic, by Margo Anand.51fXQLsEE4L._SX405_BO1,204,203,200_

When I put aside my prejudices and looked at my deepest motivations and fears, I was surprised to be confronted by a rather sorry-looking individual, covered with bandages, limping along on a crutch, incapable of hurting anyone.

I immediately recognized him. It was me. It was my wounded self, a symbolic representation of all those doubts and fears about myself that I had so carefully hidden from public view for so many years. And when I looked a little closer at this injured being, my heart was deeply touched. I wanted to reach out and help him to heal, because I could see, beneath the bandages, that he was only a small boy, a helpless, wounded child.