At the very beginning we put on our soft deer hide moccasins. Maybe it is at birth. Maybe it is before we are born. They are soft and fit perfectly on our perfect selves; our lovable and worthy selves. And thus, we begin our journey.
On our path there is so much beauty everywhere. Colors, music, touch and the daily poetry of life. However, tucked in amidst the beauty is the occasional thistle. Or, several thistles or maybe even a ground hornets nest. The thistles and stings surprise us as they penetrate the soft deer hide of our souls and sometimes there they stay. If we don’t stop to remove the stickers and the stingers, they begin to rub and create a sore. But we are so young, we don’t know how to remove the source of the pain. We may not even know where the pain source might be.
And sometimes a story begins. A shame story; one in which we are the problem. We begin the story of how stupid we are to have stepped on the thistle, or why didn’t we avoid the hornets nest? Our shame story starts to feel real because that is how shame stories are. To even reveal to others how stupid we were to have gotten the stinger in the first place, is too shameful in itself.
And so, the stinger rubs and rubs and creates a sore. An invisible infection. Our gait begins to change as we seek to avoid the pain of the sore which is getting deeper and deeper. As our steps become altered our backs become distorted, our hips begin to tighten and the infections grows. The story continues to go deeper inside as we try to hide our shame and embarrassment. We hate that ugly infection, which has now become part of us. We try all kinds of dressings and masks. For what? We did not create the thistles and the hornets. And yet, the story grows; I must be so stupid. What is the matter with me? As if we are somehow to blame. Our silence allows the story to grow unchallenged.
We are in so much pain. We have developed a limp. When others ask about our limp, our shame and misplaced sense of responsibility result in our developing more masks. “I’m fine. Its nothing really. Please, pay no attention,.” Yet inside our soul, the pain is constant and we desperately want someone, something to help.
Then, one day, we might find the courage to say, “I have a terrible painful sore. I would like to remove the sticker, but I think I may need some help.” This process of asking for help so that we my uncover the infection, and remove the stickers and stingers, opens up receptive space in our soul so that we can begin to know, very deeply, that it was never our fault. This decision to allow a new story to develop, is very brave and it slowly begins to restore our whole-heartedness. We begin to experience freedom. It was never our fault. We begin to know that thistles have stickers, and hornets have stingers. They don’t belong to us, it is not our fault.
We can begin to return the stickers and the stingers to their sources. We can let them be in the past. We can then begin to straighten our backs, and swing our hips, and plant our feet firmly on the earth. Our courageous hearts say thank you.
This decision, to let go of blaming ourselves, is courageous. Sometimes others want to continue to blame us and want to encourage us to feel guilty and ashamed. I invite you to let that story go and find the freedom in knowing the truth. You are worthy. You are lovable. You are imperfect, as we all are, but you are worthy and lovable. You do not walk alone.
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