Your True Self-Worth

We, inherently, are beings that incessantly want. And when what we want is acquired, what we want is something more. 

Therefore, there is no satisfying the self; the ego. 

It’s when you become aware of the functionality and purposes of the ego that you can become unattached from that driving force by recognition. 

Awareness allows you to tackle the want that keeps wanting by realizing your self-worth and identities don’t rest in things or ideas. 

This liberating approach reiterates that while the ego’s job is to get more of everything, the attempt in making a connection between your identity and anything at all, is a misguided step away from your heightened awakening and potential. 

The ego looks to sustain itself on the accumulation of goods, acknowledgement, attention, experiences, and thoughts. Its survival is dependent on the racking up of these commodities. 

But, you are not your ____________. You are not your (insert talents here). 

I am not my writing. I am not the ideas that are building up within me. 

I just am. I am, still, regardless of the objects, talents, or understandings that massage my ego... 

And... They are not my identity, either.

What are these things, then? Are they not the tools that bring enrichment to my experiences in life? 

If they are not personal associations with my "beingness", then what are they?

As simple as this may sound, the answer is: 

They just are. 

They are parts of the ego. 

But they aren't your identity, and they aren't what makes you valuable.

You have value and worth as a result of merely existing. 

Your breath, this life, and your place in correlation with the rest of "all that is" in the universe has merit just for being. 

And you don't have to do anything renowned to receive this significance, either. 

Amassment of things will continue. Roles will surely endure. 

There's no way to truly escape from the ego.

But you can understand its power and what it wants to do, in order to divert your attachment to things.

Our genuine satisfaction, identity, and self-worth are not found in these things.

And, if you're looking to these things to bring you satisfaction, you may become dismayed of its results, if you haven't experienced it already. 

The joy found in objects is fleeting. 

One minute they can bring you pleasure, and the next frustration. 

When they fade away, disappointment settles in and replaces your previous excitement. 

Which is important to remember when considering your overall contentment.

You are not your ____________. You just are.

And just for that, you are an esteemed individual. 

And I admire you for that.

The Struggle for Identity

Today I have been studying the connection between the self and struggle, as you identify yourself with a label or an object. 

I have been reflecting, so far, using possessive pronouns that stake claim to things that have shown great importance to me in my life. 

Just the amount of journaling I’ve done on the separation from “my” former thoughts doesn’t compromise “my” identity. 

The changes in my awareness and consciousness don't change me as a human. 

I just haven't found a relatable community and acceptance in society, which is an uncomfortable circumstance to live with.

See how much tension surfaces from that, already. 

I currently can’t define “myself”, therefore there is unrest and an absence of connection between myself and a way of life, a set of ideas, a faith, or a community’s belief structure. 

The fact that I am not connecting the dots with something else is responsible for the festering anxiety I feel bubbling in my belly. 

My essence of life, position, and purpose have previously all been manipulated because of my drawing in and identifying with these objects and ideas.

Even now, I as I struggle to “redefine” myself, I am repeating the pattern. 

How can I find deep connection with the universe and my relationships (Oops! I did it again! I said the "my" word!) without being weighed down by the gravitational pull and divisive nature of self-identification?

Can the process of self-identification and discovery proceed without the limitations and perceptions of ownership? 

Without the possessive qualities of identifying and relating to something or someone else, can I continue becoming more self-actualized? 

It seems deep and mystifying, but I just have to know. 

How can I redefine myself without the parameters of an identity? 

Can the self find identity without the possession of thoughts or ideals?

The Power of Labels

Think in your mind of a happy time and a sad time in your life. What do you recall in trying this?

A time that gets my happy stamp of approval is spending time with Granny as a child. 

I picture in my mind an instance where her distant cousin had given to me a new stuffed animal puppy. 

I remember sitting in my Granny’s house holding that brown and white patched pup in the dimly lit, open family room. 

The tv was on, randomly playing the re-runs, that my Granny, brother, and I would watch together. 

I remember feeling the comfort and genuine love she had for my brother and I. 

This was a sweet day I return to in my thoughts. 

The peace, serenity, and feelings of “being home” were mine, and no matter where my Granny lived, that “family as a haven” quality followed, uninterrupted by the outside world.

Now, of course there were interruptions from the outside world. There had to be. 

The idea of separate spheres, divided between the public and private sectors can’t exist in reality.

One doesn’t wear it’s bones, skin, and muscles to work and then come home to somehow remove their bodies to just bear their souls. 

It just doesn’t happen. 

Therefore, what you do outside your home and within your home are connected. 

And, though, we may pretend to be different away from our houses to appease the expectations of others, who we are still remains. 

It’s just more repressed in fear of the rejection of others. 

Back to my Granny. When she died, my connection to my longing for maintaining my “family as a haven” began to die, too. 

My happiness and identity were dependent on a person and my thoughts about how family life should always be. 

I labeled these experiences as happy and assumed them as a part of my identity. 

This was who I was.

Now, let’s explore a sad time in my life: Marriage in its early form. 

My husband had a side company with a fairly large group of people. He was a promoter. 

Being music addicts, he and some friends decided to organize and throw musical events, and they were good. 

Near the beginning of their existence, the parties could reach almost 3,000 people. I’d say there was something special about what they did. 

But what did this mean for me? 

This is a time in my life that I attach negative emotions and memories to, because I wasn’t a part of that movement. 

I was a new mother, and you can only guess what that meant. 

Late nights hosting parties for my husband and his comrades translated to late nights seething in sadness and wallowing in feelings of rejection for me. 

I began to despise techno music, and felt replaced by his new life outside our marriage with his friends. 

And if you want to get me riled up, just tell me that you’re going to a techno show or even better... 

That you’re getting together with your old friend “what’s his name”. 

This is my life now. 

Hubby is meeting with “what’s his name”, can I call him James? Short for James Bond? 

He seems internationally invisible and naturally suave and elite, like a ladies’ man. 

They’re spending a lot of extra time together, and I just can’t get away from how this makes me feel. 

Doesn’t he remember how hard this is on my heart? 

Doesn’t he know that what he’s taking on will further draw the line between us, our already minimal bedtime sitcom watching rituals, and me? 

My only help as of now is to help myself to define the labels involved and the power they have over me. 

I am allowing my happiness to be thwarted by labels I have placed on people and things. 

Bond and techno are both triggers that further diminish any kind of future relationships involving these things. 

Mental images, perceived threats, failed expectations, and words are shutting off all opportunities tied to those two things. 

And you can be certain that with these, comes a heightened fear that soon, again, I will be replaced by life outside of our family, which as a child held the image of calmness, comfort, and a place where everyone belonged. 

Does this mean that I should find ways to belong and counter negativity with new positive memories? 

Should I find time to get involved in more of my husband’s circles of friends? 

It’s not all guys. 

I usually encounter insecurity in myself, and feel like a dweeb in the corner, pushing up a pair of over-sized glasses on my frail and frozen face. 

Maybe if I could change my ideas about these triggers, their labels would change, too. 

Can I divert the reactionary future of automated response and switch my thinking to “manual”? 

Can I override fear with pleasure and be uninhibited by the labels I have for others, objects, and the power they have over me?

Can I be the one in charge of my own emotions and stop the spreading of negative banter and its effects on my self-worth?

Can I imagine how responding differently, with unattached labels would benefit in healing and the self-actualization process?

A New Need

I am all alone. In a place of absence, where the search is on to redefine myself and realign myself.

But, who I am isn’t what I’ve been. And what I’ve become is not like them. 

A lot of the world jauntily plays in their dance. This dance I know of far too well. 

For, I was like them; Once, all-knowing and full of profound wisdom and might. 

And now... I might not know anything more than what I thought I knew then was nothing at all. 

Was it really real or was I caught, dizzily dancing in a circular charade of a fanciful facade... Wondering nothing on a deeper level of why I had become so entangled in my ritualistic religiosity. 

And for no better explanation than this: It’s just who I am and have been for all my life.

It was cozy in the familiarity of my warm, mellow cave that I gladly dwelled in. And I guarded it with my life... to the death! 

For my ways were greater and farther than those of others. 

What had settled upon my mind, unknowingly, was that my ways were right and the only way to be. 

What a fool’s paradise I had participated in during my younger days. 

But, now I know I can’t grow in its habitat, for my eyes are awakening to a new need:  

A ravenous craving that begs for me to know and experience the accurate and authentic and more genuine truths of my existence.

This searching that calls me to accountability, positions my identity in a damaging view for all society to glare and mock at. 

I am forced to decide my destiny:  Am I “in” or am I “out”?

“Out” doesn’t reward with prizing exclusiveness and trendiness of a subculture subscription. 

“Out” is counterculture and more than deviation of our set of rules. 

“Out” is social suicide, yet, with no rescue from the humility and shame that the death of a physical one would ensure. 

“Out” is being pegged into the corner of an eternal checkmate, where the game plays over and over and over again. 

And with every evil stare and pointing finger of judgement, the survival for self worth becomes a diminishing famine as you try to hang on for the confidence you once could exude.