I had a conversation with a dear friend about the limiting views we have of ourselves and the voice in our heads that serves no purpose other than to perpetuate the past and our outmoded perceptions and beliefs.
I had obviously trespassed too far into bliss and the mind needed to assert itself with alacrity and gusto. I spent several days grappling with the unpredictability of this body and wrestling with the fierce demon of dysmorphia that assured me in no uncertain terms that I was horribly unattractive, flawed and therefore unlovable. I knew, as I often know, that the voice was just a symptom of pain arising and nothing more. The shadows don't need my stalwart efforts to shove them back into the recesses of unconsciousness, rather they are arising in order that they might meet with the full weight of my love and fade in the light of my awareness...but holy hell the ghosts in the mirror can be terrifying in all their pomp and circumstance. It's laughable when we get enough perspective and can look honestly at the whole show. Seriously, who let that voice in and why on earth do we devote so much energy trying to convince it that it's wrong? The nonsense our mental chatter churns out isn't something I would ever say aloud to anyone...ever. Honestly, I don't even identify with its verbiage. That's when the effort to fight it stops. It just doesn't warrant one more instant of attention. No matter how it catastrophizes, terrorizes, plans, worries, controls and projects...it's really not necessary... it's just background noise in the wide expanse of being that we are.
If I'm not beautiful... So what. If I'm flawed... So what. If I'm unlovable... So what. When the worst it has to offer is seen for what it is... ghosts parading as real... and it's fully realized that nothing can take from us the essence of what we are, then it has no more power to harness our attention and the ghosts in the mirror are gone.