Living from Hate versus Living from Love
Let’s talk about self-hate. If I'm honest, I spend a lot of time quietly hating myself. That happens. I own it.
One thing I know for sure is that my life is easier when I am living from love. By that I mean when I’m allowing space for that self-hatred to be here, when I’m hearing its nasty garbage dialogue… and letting it speak.
I let it have the floor, without reacting. Then I start to watch over it with a sense of okayness. I hear you, nasty voice. I'm just listening. Just giving you space to speak.
But who is this part of me who is listening to it and watching over it? Does this part of me have the gumption to give love to the other parts? The answer is yes. I can always deliver love. I can’t always shout louder than the garbage dialogue, but I can quietly shine kindness upon it.
And just like that, it’s ok. The loving gets louder than the hating.
I learned as a kindergarten teacher that the kids who act out with hate or nastiness are starving for patience and kindness. So I gave love to them. And they would respond with softening, loosening, then joy, self-acceptance, and better behaviour.
Now I apply this same compassion towards my own inner dialogues: Nastiness, I love you. I am here for you. I don't know where you came from, but the world is an OK place and we’re going to get through it together. It might get weird, and that's OK too.
I got you. Even when you are nasty or cruel. And I love you anyways. Because you don’t need any more shit from me. I give you love instead.
Preaching as I practice,
Maeve
