Taking your own advice

In the Self-Love Game, we're working on one card a week from Debbie Ford's Best year of Your Life kit, and the title of this week's card is Take Your Own Advice. When I first read the card, my thought was that I don't give advice (probably more out of fear than anything else), so I couldn't see how I would apply it. Then this morning I found myself giving advice to my housemate on preparing for a magick ritual he was contemplating. The advice came straight out of one of Havi's posts, supplemented by other stuff I've been reading lately on how to deal with the baggage that we accumulate over the years.

We all have noticed things in ourselves that affect our lives adversely, and we wonder how to get rid of them or, at least, get them to stop affecting us the way they do. Havi's method involves determining the root, why the trait or tendency or habit developed in the first place. One example would be fear of public speaking. Perhaps you had a bad experience giving an oral book report in elementary school when you weren't prepared, so ever since you've been terrified that when you speak in front of others, they'll mock you – despite the fact that you're an expert in your field and you know your subject cold. Recognizing the validity of the fear of being mocked, and acknowledging its source, can help you remove the fear where it's not in sync with reality.

So I've thinking about how I can apply this advice to my life. I'll let you know what I come up with.

Normal?

I just read a marvelous post by Steve Pavlina about being normal and the fact that none of us is, even though many of us spend a lot of energy trying to persuade others that we are and simultaneously being afraid that they will find out that we aren't, and it got me thinking about how I view myself, and this is a really long sentence and I probably should stop now.

Phew! I wrote the above this morning and then went to another site by mistake (I thought I had opened a new window – dummy!). I knew Blogger had saved it, but when I came back to the site, I couldn't figure out where. It was obvious, really, but I was so annoyed that I couldn't find it, and that got me even *more* annoyed!

I think I'll just mention one more topic and then write about them tomorrow ... or whenever.

Ever since 1996, when I first identified myself as a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, my focus has been on recovery. I've been realizing that the word "recovery" implies a return to a previous state of health. It implies that there is an end to the process. Also as long as I think

in terms of recovery, I'm viewing myself as sick.

I am *not* sick. I am growing. I'm fine just as I am right now, but I can go further.

Next day

Yeah, I'm back ... but don't get used to it.

Well, I wrote that sentence two hours ago. Maybe I'll try again now.

I've been thinking about why I seem to have difficulty with maintaining focus on a particular task once I get past the first flush of enthusiasm. I can only see two alternatives: fear of failure ... or fear of success. Let's examine them both.

Fear of failure. That's pretty obvious. If I'm going to fail at something, why bother trying, right? Once I've gotten into a project, I start to see just how complex it is, how long it will take me, how much better other people are at it, how futile my pathetic attempts are, how ... how ... how ...

You get the picture.

Some obvious responses. Break the project down into smaller pieces or shorter chunks of time. Look at what you've accomplished in just one month, one week, one day, one hour. Think of what you've learned – and be specific.

Sure. Easy. Piece of cake.

But I always look at the whole thing and get overwhelmed. I'm going to learn to play chess really well, instead of I'm going to study one opening today. Whenever I start a project, I am bombarded with thoughts of the inevitability of failure, the certainty that I won't keep going with it, that I'll lose interest and just give up. And I make the mistake of assuming those thoughts are an accurate representation of reality. I don't question them. I don't ask, where do they come from? when did I first feel this way? whose voice is this anyway???

More later. Maybe tomorrow. Don't count on it.

First post

Original title, what?

I've been thinking about doing this for a while. I've recently gotten on Twitter, and from there found a lot of blogs that are making me think about things in a new way. At the same time, I've known for a long time that writing down my thoughts can help me get a handle on them, help me become aware of my less-constructive patterns, so I can determine if I really want to do anything about changing them.

But I've always had difficulty doing (almost) anything with any consistency. I start a journal and several days or weeks later, it's only a memory. Something interrupts the habit I've been trying to establish, and phht! it evaporates.

Sometime I may talk about some of the other areas in which I experience this problem ... but not yet.

One thing I'm going to do this time is not tell myself that I'm going to write here every day.

I'm going to write here when I can no longer not write here.

Till next time.