My husband brought me a delicious gift just now. A passage from a young adult novel he bought for our daughter, Marcelo in the Real World, by Francisco X. Stork.
I want to sing “Hallelujah! Amen!” because this bit of dialogue says everything I believe about healing yourself. It says everything that’s happened to me, how I feel about myself and others.
It says it all! In a simple, heartful, ordinary way. How true change happens from the inside out. Check it out.
“But how did you change? What happened? What made you different?”…
“Little by little, I don’t know, what was eating me up went away.”
“But how did it go away? What did you do?”
“Like, at the beginning. I felt sorry for myself, I guess. Not like, you know, pity or anything. But then one day I stopped being so angry. ‘You’re just a little girl,’ I said to myself. ‘It’s not your fault your parents died. It’s okay you messed up. It’s okay to be angry about your face and hate everyone. You’re just a little girl. I forgive you, little girl, for all the bad things you did.’ Like that. It’s crazy isn’t it? To have one part of yourself be nice to another part. Like the nice part of my face saying nice things to the ugly part. After a while, the nice part and the ugly part stopped hating each other. There was peace inside of me, like the different parts disappeared and there was only one me. After that, I saw how the other girls were like me, and I started doing the same thing with them. I saw their ugly parts – and around here that’s not too hard, believe me – and I tried to be nice to their ugly parts.”
Then it comes to me. It cannot be that this is the first time I realized this, but it is. We all have ugly parts. I think of the time in the cafeteria when Jasmine asked me what the girl in the picture was asking me. How do we live with all the suffering? We see our ugly parts, and then we are able to forgive, love kindness, walk humbly.
“We all have ugly parts,” I say to myself…
As a person who writes fiction, I am humbled by this beauty. Filled with joy that young people will read this. Grateful that my husband knows how it thrums with me.
Then another part whispers, “See! Why did you stop writing fiction? Stories are the best way to deliver these messages. Why don’t you release your writing? You write every day. Why did you stop blogging?”
Then I take a breath of forgiveness. I give my darling ego a heart hug and say, “Yes. I know you want me to do more, be more, accomplish more. But all is well. All is deeply ok. I will publish, blog, sing, speak, teach, as the time moves in me. Trust it. Know it.”
Have you befriended those parts that are not your very favorite? Do you chat with them? You are not alone, my dear.