Maybe its just that we love ourselves too much, and maybe that's not a bad thing in and of itself. It's not a bad thing until we hurt and we get hurt.
Recovering alcoholics have trouble making sense of things even when things make sense. There is always something, ah, suspicious. So, when we get hurt, emotionally speaking for the most part, the scars left by these injuries blur the human landscape as we see ourselves.
We tend to see ourselves as beautiful, perfect and handsome and there's something about every cell of ours that smiles and gleams happily. That is until we're hurt.
When we've been injured we don't look at ourselves the same, not in a mirror and not in pictures. Sure, we see exactly what is right in front of us- there, that's me or that's you but the image is distorted and sometime too painful to look at.
You couldn't count on us to give you or anyone an accurate description of ourselves because we can't tell you the truth so I guess we tell lies.
We're sure we are being honest with you and ourselves, after all we are honest people? After all we don't make false statements about ourselves, do we?
And when at all possible, if it's possible we tend to hide behind things, nice things, things we own and things we've been given. All the pretty " things " that will distract you, hopefully from seeing the obvious, the wounded, the wounded us. Because if you see our woundedness we would have to explain it and we can't. It hurts too much.
I've recently returned from camping, a quest I had, a journey I experienced - deep into myself, my soul. No distractions, no tv, no radio.
I wanted to look at myself, the real me, the wounded me AND examine it, so I did.
I started out by reading, in one day the book;
" The Mastery of Love " by Don Miguel Ruiz. ( a heart changer).
I finished by coming home with a completely different opinion of myself, a most radical new desciption of myself.
I am a beautiful creature that God, The Master of Life, The Creator poured life into on August 28th, 1958. I am perfect in His eyes. I am lovely in His sight. I am.
papajohn
Recovering alcoholics have trouble making sense of things even when things make sense. There is always something, ah, suspicious. So, when we get hurt, emotionally speaking for the most part, the scars left by these injuries blur the human landscape as we see ourselves.
We tend to see ourselves as beautiful, perfect and handsome and there's something about every cell of ours that smiles and gleams happily. That is until we're hurt.
When we've been injured we don't look at ourselves the same, not in a mirror and not in pictures. Sure, we see exactly what is right in front of us- there, that's me or that's you but the image is distorted and sometime too painful to look at.
You couldn't count on us to give you or anyone an accurate description of ourselves because we can't tell you the truth so I guess we tell lies.
We're sure we are being honest with you and ourselves, after all we are honest people? After all we don't make false statements about ourselves, do we?
And when at all possible, if it's possible we tend to hide behind things, nice things, things we own and things we've been given. All the pretty " things " that will distract you, hopefully from seeing the obvious, the wounded, the wounded us. Because if you see our woundedness we would have to explain it and we can't. It hurts too much.
I've recently returned from camping, a quest I had, a journey I experienced - deep into myself, my soul. No distractions, no tv, no radio.
I wanted to look at myself, the real me, the wounded me AND examine it, so I did.
I started out by reading, in one day the book;
" The Mastery of Love " by Don Miguel Ruiz. ( a heart changer).
I finished by coming home with a completely different opinion of myself, a most radical new desciption of myself.
I am a beautiful creature that God, The Master of Life, The Creator poured life into on August 28th, 1958. I am perfect in His eyes. I am lovely in His sight. I am.
papajohn
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