I'm sorry
I believe that, if I could understand and internalize the idea that I am not my body, I could spare myself unnecessary distress. And, as with other things, I am learning not to identify with it, because it is temporary, because it changes, it withers, and if I were to wake up tomorrow in another body, I would still be fundamentally me. My purpose is to identify with and live in accordance with the virtues that nourish the soul—those that are constant and that, moreover, make me happy. The serenity of looking at myself in the mirror and smiling at my reflection will never be as gratifying as being useful, just, kind… Yet, in the moment, I still hold on to the reaction and feel pain. I curl up into a ball and, in silence, I begin to observe. It is an almost instinctive reaction, but I believe stillness is a good path toward awareness.
Positive affirmations have not been my preferred choice in these cases. But I decided to surrender to them. “May I be well, may you be well, may he be well…,” I repeated, and the weight felt lighter. “One day she will not belong to me, and I will not belong to her… I’m sorry for having allowed myself to be hurt. I am at peace, I forgive myself…” "I don't own beauty, I don't own my youth, I cannot control them..." Perhaps thirty minutes passed, or maybe more, but the weight and the pain slowly lost their significance. It was still there, but I knew them and had then close enough to grasp, to understand, and then, let go. Today this challenge had moved me, I hope I can reconnect with my essence soon; this is not me.