Felling my Fatal Flaw

Felling My Fatal Flaw

It is our first relationship, the first person we become aware of. This is the first person  whose feelings we notice, whose well being matters to us. This is often the first person we doubt. It brings up one of my favorite thinkin’ questions, “Who is the I that recognizes me?”

My most fundamental relationship is the one I have with myself. It is also far and away the most complicated one I have simply because I know so much about me. I often put the most negative emotional judgments on me, the harshest critic, the cruelest words. I say the nastiest, most cutting things to myself, and often I am not even paying attention when I do. It’s more of a stream of consciousness undercurrent that is undermining, undercutting, all under my radar.

Why would I like me? How could I treat me with kindness and respect? What makes me nice to me?

Liking ourselves is effortless at our core. We totally get it there. But as we think stuff, and observe stuff, we start mislearning, and we are usually the first victim of that mislearning. That first mislearning about ourselves will color everything for us. We call it “personal doubt” and it is wrong, no matter how certain we are that it is right.

Why am I good enough? Why am I right? Why am I acceptable? Why am I a contribution?

We often think of our personal doubt as our fatal flaw, that one horrible thing about us that makes us less than, or unlovable, or undeserving.

And it’s not true. We only think it’s true. And we react to that thought either by trying to prove it wrong, or by giving up to show that it’s right. If I believe that I am not good enough, I may bend over backwards to prove that I am. Overachieving in everything I do, as though I were striving for sainthood. Or I may say “phooey” and underachieve, getting in trouble, being mean. Or I may do one here, and the other there, and it’s all based on a wrong idea that we hold in certainty.

Maybe I feel like everything I do is wrong, or even that I am wrong for existing. Maybe I feel like I have no inherent value. Maybe I feel like I always hurt people. Chances are good that if I think about it a bit, I will notice what my personal doubt is.

When I find it, I can start using my good Creative Questions to loosen it up. If I feel like I always hurt people, I can try Creative Questions like, “How am I a contribution? Why do I help? What makes me considerate? How do I show my compassion?”

And it’s not about doing more. It’s not about work hard at it. It’s not about striving to be a contribution, a helper. We are these things naturally, effortlessly. By asking good Creative Questions, we are helping ourselves to our natural balance, our natural equilibrium. Like forgiving ourselves when we screw up, it’s hitting the reset button.

Giving myself permission to like me is, for some of us, all we need. We are battered by the media with ideas that we are lacking. I should be the way I see other people. When I give myself permission to like and accept me as I am right now, I can choose to like me. I am free.

How have I changed from owning a fatal flaw to liking me as I am?

(c) Pam Guthrie 2014 all rights reserved 07122014

Fanning the Desire Fire

Fanning the Desire Fire

What is the most powerful Creative Question? I bet you know. It’s sure my favorite question.

This question is the beginning of everything good, the transition from stuck to splendid, from sad to glad, from meh to yay.

This is the question that is fundamental to each moment, however brief, in our day. It directs our thoughts, our emotions and feeling, our actions. When we claim this question as our own, we have started to take responsibility for our lives, and better they will most certainly become.

Why can I choose? What makes me decide? Where do I want to go? How do I want to be? What do I want to do?

Choice. Thousands of them all day long. We are so used to making them that we mostly don’t even notice. They are often out of our awareness, and, in long strings, they become our routines, our habits. We start the instant we wake up, and chug along making them for the rest of our day. We make choices that support our well being, make us comfy, put things off. We choose to be kind, to be mean, to love, or to hate. We choose what to eat, whether we’re thirsty, if we want to pee.

We choose to believe lies, to be afraid, to worry, to ignore. We choose to create beauty, simplicity, ugliness, complexity. misery, joy.

We choose to look at our crap and own it, or not. We choose to clean it up, or not.

How do I know I am powerful? What makes me strong? Why do I choose to see the good?

I admit, there are times when I feel like I have no choice. When I notice that feeling, I like to start making up outrageous choices. Crazy things I would never, or could never, do. They help me remember that feeling like there is only one thing I can do is in itself a choice.

Why am I so creative? What makes me find solutions? What is my heart’s desire?

It is our baby nature, our immature self, that likes to focus on what we don’t want, what we don’t like; the toddler, sobbing on the floor over a broken cheese stick. I haven’t got it down pat, I have days when I feel like that baby, and want to fall on the floor kicking and screaming for something I can’t have or don’t want. But, little by little, more often than not, I am past that, with an eye out for the opportunities to move my life in the directions I want it to go.

Why do I choose to shed my fixed delusions? Why do I choose to unchoose my unsupportive beliefs? Why do I choose to dump my mislearnings?

That’s profound stuff right there. Those questions will transform our lives in ways we can’t imagine in the place we’re currently at.

It may not be comfortable. It may not feel familiar. It may feel taxing, but boy, howdy, it’s gonna shake things up in a really good way. Like, in a what’s the most wonderful thing you could ever imagine happening kind of way.

Why am I worth it?

(c) 2014 Pam Guthrie all rights reserved 02072014