This day is challenging my verve and self-confidence.

It’s way too hot and I don’t have an air-conditioner, my computer can’t handle the heat and has shut down while I’ve been in the middle of things, it’s also been infected with malware which has taken me hours to remove, plus I spent forty bucks on a piece of software that didn’t even solve the problem. Besides that, I meditated for an hour and a half this morning and I still got into an argument with someone who is now incredibly angry with me.

And as a result, I’ve been comfort eating, because it’s one of the few distractions that hasn’t lost its appeal (my awareness now means drowning out to TV or in company doesn’t really fly anymore), desperately meditating and then, just now, reading an ebook which I knew was making me feel worse.

And now I am here writing.

I want to shift my perspective on today to a positive one. And at the same time, I really, really don’t. Because if I stay negative, I get to remain unchallenged. I get to stay comfortably small. I get to hand my power over so that I don’t have to do anything about it. I get to deflect responsibility for how I feel. I get to blame, judge, wallow.

These things are appealing.

But do I want to be right or free?

Do I have the strength right now to lift myself out of this? And can I forgive myself if the answer is no?

There is the tendency to blame and berate myself – nothing I did today was right. And there is the tendency to deflect responsibility and make myself a victim of the situation – nothing that happened today was right.

What if how I acted and what happened was right? My story about today would be different to the one I started this post with.

Instead, it would go like this.

Today, I succeeded.

I never thought I would be able to have a consistent morning yoga practice, much less one that lasts for over an hour. But I’ve done it upon waking for the past four days, and I willingly did it again today, despite having had only four hours sleep. And, after that, I was kind enough to myself to head back to bed.

I approached today with a stronger and more permanent inner peace than I’ve ever had before.

Today I continued to come back to myself.

Today I was aware of my triggers and made conscious choices around them.

Today I was able to let go of the need for approval from this person who is angry with me.

Today I admitted that I was wrong in a way that didn’t diminish my power.

Today I trusted my feelings.

Today I practiced non-judgement.

Today I was challenged.

Today I did the best I knew how.

Tomorrow, I will know more because of today.

…We go on deceiving ourselves. We think we love, and if you think that you love, then there is no possibility – because if this is love, then everything is closed.

Make fresh efforts. Try to find in the other the real being that is hidden. Don’t take anybody for granted. Every individual is such a mystery that if you go on and on into him it is endless.

- Osho

This is my mission.

The stiff man in a rush, the impatient mother and her screaming pram, the teenager who won’t look me in the eye and the teenager who will, the old woman with the weary limp, the one who shouts at the shop assistant and the one who rolls her eyes at this “childish behaviour”.

The journalist, the celebrity, the teacher.

My friend, my father, my brother, my confidant.

They all have these things in common: they are beautiful, they are flawed, they are doing the best they can and they are divine exactly as they are.

I know this.

And because I am also flawed, I get lost in my judgements, my defenses, my patterns of disconnection.

When I think I am above or below a person, when I think I know what’s best for someone else, when I think another is wrong, when I make someone else responsible for how I feel, when I get defensive or aggressive…

I am out of touch with my heart.

And it hurts. It really fucking hurts, although I have repressed this pain until now. Disconnection is a roar in my chest that eats me alive.

My indifference was quite convincing, but also not very convincing at all now that I look back. I was the independent one, the opinionated one. Also, the compulsively nice one. I could both fake a smile like nobody’s business and cold shoulder you without a second thought. I assumed you wouldn’t notice, anyway.

I would have arguments in my head that went:

“You shouldn’t have said that thing that you said, that was dumb.”
“For fucks sake, are you a weakling or what?”
“I wish I had said it differently. Or just kept my mouth shut.”
“Get over it.”
“But -”
“Stop CARING SO MUCH.”

And that would shut up the hurting part of me, until the next time that it needed reminding again. I hid my fear behind my indifference and withdrawl was my ultimate safety.

But through all of this, I never questioned how others felt in response to me. Because if I couldn’t even hold myself together, how could I hold anyone else? I had nothing more to give. And how could my niceness in that deprived place that ever be true kindness?

Maybe a kind mask is better than a hostile mask, but true love is better still and that is maskless.

I finally feel strong enough to begin practising this, and I am attempting to see everyone I encounter through fresh eyes. Heart eyes.

I am on a mission to find in the other the real being that is hidden. To get out of my head and into my heart. It’s one of the most difficult things ever.