I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to go into so many stories, as the layers built as belief, opinion and idea that support what I am, what I prefer as what I believe is more than something else, which is set of values I use to compare myself to others, to ensure my own placement within a hierarchy in self interested survival only, never considering the value being life.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to become ideas and beliefs as what is more than and less than, and within this to go into a fantasy within an idea of what I am, in my case, often being the cultured female interacting with a man, where not only do I look the part, I also, as I am part of a society that values education and has opportunity to have had a “supposed education,” dress myself up in ideas and opinions and facts about history and culture, thus do I have a dress code, I also have a “intellect code” that takes me into certain levels of society to allow me, as the images I have been taught , to remain within the borders of a certain level within the present system of inequality.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand that I am the female romantic, pining away for her Heathcliff, thinking my romanticism is okay because it is voiced in cultured and historical terms.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand that in a way I am looking for my Heathcliff, because just as Jane Eyre ( and I know they are different novels) wanted her man, but would not accept him within his lie, so am I as I will not accept a man who does not accept my children or for that matter, not even listen to my story where all I become is listening to his story, which is fine, listening to his story, but I begin to think, believing myself to be confused, that gee, my story in this scenario has never been heard, and then I feel guilty as though perhaps my story is not worthy of being told.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand that I often do not, or have not, told my story because I am too embarrassed to tell it, and I fear being told I am crazy, thus I fear it not being accepted and thus, that I will be rejected, so I am the cause of my own “supposed” story not being told.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand that I remain the demure female, in keeping my story secret, when it is really based in fear of rejection.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to not see, realize and understand that this is myself fearing exposure for fear of rejection, and within this I overwhelm myself and then when I do get a chance to tell my story, I have had no practice and find it difficult to speak.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to thus, become anxious when I have to speak, because I struggle to cater to what will be acceptable to the listener and then translate the story into ideas through judgement of what might be acceptable to the listener and end up trying to fit a square peg into a round hole- so to speak.
And within this, I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to place a protection/defense border around my own story that masks the expression of myself, and also does not allow the listener to see who I am, and thus the consequence is that I am not seen, and the story is not heard as it is not told truthfully, it has become limited and of no substance.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to become caution to the extent that I build a wall around me and isolate myself from living.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to not see, realize and understand that this has become such a habit that I lose myself to anxiety and become breathless when speaking, I am the habit of a practiced suppression when and as I speak, often, with others, as I am so busy revealing only parts of what I want to say.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand , with real eyes, that this is much like what happened in childhood, where, as I faced my parents, I would monitor their reactions to myself speaking and gage reactions to see if I was going in the “right” direction within speaking or talking within a subject, thus did I learn to imitate their beliefs, opinions and ideas, as I recognize this in others really easily and it has been a judgement i have made of others. I see this because this is me. WTF.
Within this, I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to not see, that I then would connect myself with people that matched the same structures I had learned to watch for and imitate, that were my parents, in others, as i could follow the “flow” so to speak.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to have understood that this is why it is difficult to be with people who, are essentially doing the same thing, are of different patterns, as this meant having to listen and “translate” my own “language” into theirs, where I did not take their words as what they were, thus was I not only trying to fit them into my way of using words and assumptions, I was also not listening to them because I was trying to fit them into me, which they were probably doing as well, thus unless both realize this and made an effort there was rejection and/or confusion, and also, even if an effort was made, it was the effort having to be made that caused a lack of ease, and this would take two, equally to work through, which our present system does not give the time necessary for such concerted effort unless it is done on one’s own time, but also this can be done if it is understood, and I have found this does not happen too often, so the learned imitated behaviors of suppression -as fitting into what our parents accepted as what they were taught, will take some understanding to real eyes, and then realign to and as insight into what is the cause of such limitation and then a re-alignment towards what is best for all.
I commit myself to realizing when and as I talk with others, that the difficulty in breathing while talking with others that I have, is myself trying to mince my words into an acceptable story/presentation where I am in fact using my past, as my judgment as my fear of rejection and loss, becoming outcast and labeled as insane, as what I experienced as a child, which is like a “song” of constriction and suppression and false “guide” within myself as fear when and as I interact and speak with others, even to the point where i do not speak at all, to stand up and not use this past as this mud-like funnel within me, that tightens my breath ( which I allow) to direct myself within my world, as this is dishONEsty with and as life, here.
I commit myself to realizing, with real eyes, that this fear, is the negative within and as myself as energy, and the presentation as the limited - fit into the box of acceptance/happy face story that comes out like a fairy tale, and thus has no real substance, and others, like me, are probably bored with hearing the same fairy tale again and again. lol
I commit myself to seeing , realizing and understanding that IF someone tells me their happy face watered down/acceptable fairy tale story, THEN instead of telling them my happy face, watered down/acceptable fairy tale story I respond with in the context of what is best for all, and within this, even though one can take a horse to water but not get them to drink, eventually they will get so thirsty, there will be no choice but to drink of the water of life, as this is the substance of what we all are, equal and one as this is the value and what sustains us, giving as is the nature of life, here, this water that is what is best for all.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to go into so many stories, as the layers built as belief, opinion and idea that support what I am, what I prefer as what I believe is more than something else, which is set of values I use to compare myself to others, to ensure my own placement within a hierarchy in self interested survival only, never considering the value being life.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to become ideas and beliefs as what is more than and less than, and within this to go into a fantasy within an idea of what I am, in my case, often being the cultured female interacting with a man, where not only do I look the part, I also, as I am part of a society that values education and has opportunity to have had a “supposed education,” dress myself up in ideas and opinions and facts about history and culture, thus do I have a dress code, I also have a “intellect code” that takes me into certain levels of society to allow me, as the images I have been taught , to remain within the borders of a certain level within the present system of inequality.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand that I am the female romantic, pining away for her Heathcliff, thinking my romanticism is okay because it is voiced in cultured and historical terms.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand that in a way I am looking for my Heathcliff, because just as Jane Eyre ( and I know they are different novels) wanted her man, but would not accept him within his lie, so am I as I will not accept a man who does not accept my children or for that matter, not even listen to my story where all I become is listening to his story, which is fine, listening to his story, but I begin to think, believing myself to be confused, that gee, my story in this scenario has never been heard, and then I feel guilty as though perhaps my story is not worthy of being told.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand that I often do not, or have not, told my story because I am too embarrassed to tell it, and I fear being told I am crazy, thus I fear it not being accepted and thus, that I will be rejected, so I am the cause of my own “supposed” story not being told.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand that I remain the demure female, in keeping my story secret, when it is really based in fear of rejection.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to not see, realize and understand that this is myself fearing exposure for fear of rejection, and within this I overwhelm myself and then when I do get a chance to tell my story, I have had no practice and find it difficult to speak.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to thus, become anxious when I have to speak, because I struggle to cater to what will be acceptable to the listener and then translate the story into ideas through judgement of what might be acceptable to the listener and end up trying to fit a square peg into a round hole- so to speak.
And within this, I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to place a protection/defense border around my own story that masks the expression of myself, and also does not allow the listener to see who I am, and thus the consequence is that I am not seen, and the story is not heard as it is not told truthfully, it has become limited and of no substance.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to become caution to the extent that I build a wall around me and isolate myself from living.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to not see, realize and understand that this has become such a habit that I lose myself to anxiety and become breathless when speaking, I am the habit of a practiced suppression when and as I speak, often, with others, as I am so busy revealing only parts of what I want to say.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand , with real eyes, that this is much like what happened in childhood, where, as I faced my parents, I would monitor their reactions to myself speaking and gage reactions to see if I was going in the “right” direction within speaking or talking within a subject, thus did I learn to imitate their beliefs, opinions and ideas, as I recognize this in others really easily and it has been a judgement i have made of others. I see this because this is me. WTF.
Within this, I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to not see, that I then would connect myself with people that matched the same structures I had learned to watch for and imitate, that were my parents, in others, as i could follow the “flow” so to speak.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to have understood that this is why it is difficult to be with people who, are essentially doing the same thing, are of different patterns, as this meant having to listen and “translate” my own “language” into theirs, where I did not take their words as what they were, thus was I not only trying to fit them into my way of using words and assumptions, I was also not listening to them because I was trying to fit them into me, which they were probably doing as well, thus unless both realize this and made an effort there was rejection and/or confusion, and also, even if an effort was made, it was the effort having to be made that caused a lack of ease, and this would take two, equally to work through, which our present system does not give the time necessary for such concerted effort unless it is done on one’s own time, but also this can be done if it is understood, and I have found this does not happen too often, so the learned imitated behaviors of suppression -as fitting into what our parents accepted as what they were taught, will take some understanding to real eyes, and then realign to and as insight into what is the cause of such limitation and then a re-alignment towards what is best for all.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to become ideas and beliefs as what is more than and less than, and within this to go into a fantasy within an idea of what I am, in my case, often being the cultured female interacting with a man, where not only do I look the part, I also, as I am part of a society that values education and has opportunity to have had a “supposed education,” dress myself up in ideas and opinions and facts about history and culture, thus do I have a dress code, I also have a “intellect code” that takes me into certain levels of society to allow me, as the images I have been taught , to remain within the borders of a certain level within the present system of inequality.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand that I am the female romantic, pining away for her Heathcliff, thinking my romanticism is okay because it is voiced in cultured and historical terms.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand that in a way I am looking for my Heathcliff, because just as Jane Eyre ( and I know they are different novels) wanted her man, but would not accept him within his lie, so am I as I will not accept a man who does not accept my children or for that matter, not even listen to my story where all I become is listening to his story, which is fine, listening to his story, but I begin to think, believing myself to be confused, that gee, my story in this scenario has never been heard, and then I feel guilty as though perhaps my story is not worthy of being told.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand that I often do not, or have not, told my story because I am too embarrassed to tell it, and I fear being told I am crazy, thus I fear it not being accepted and thus, that I will be rejected, so I am the cause of my own “supposed” story not being told.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand that I remain the demure female, in keeping my story secret, when it is really based in fear of rejection.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to not see, realize and understand that this is myself fearing exposure for fear of rejection, and within this I overwhelm myself and then when I do get a chance to tell my story, I have had no practice and find it difficult to speak.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to thus, become anxious when I have to speak, because I struggle to cater to what will be acceptable to the listener and then translate the story into ideas through judgement of what might be acceptable to the listener and end up trying to fit a square peg into a round hole- so to speak.
And within this, I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to place a protection/defense border around my own story that masks the expression of myself, and also does not allow the listener to see who I am, and thus the consequence is that I am not seen, and the story is not heard as it is not told truthfully, it has become limited and of no substance.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to become caution to the extent that I build a wall around me and isolate myself from living.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to not see, realize and understand that this has become such a habit that I lose myself to anxiety and become breathless when speaking, I am the habit of a practiced suppression when and as I speak, often, with others, as I am so busy revealing only parts of what I want to say.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand , with real eyes, that this is much like what happened in childhood, where, as I faced my parents, I would monitor their reactions to myself speaking and gage reactions to see if I was going in the “right” direction within speaking or talking within a subject, thus did I learn to imitate their beliefs, opinions and ideas, as I recognize this in others really easily and it has been a judgement i have made of others. I see this because this is me. WTF.
Within this, I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to not see, that I then would connect myself with people that matched the same structures I had learned to watch for and imitate, that were my parents, in others, as i could follow the “flow” so to speak.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to have understood that this is why it is difficult to be with people who, are essentially doing the same thing, are of different patterns, as this meant having to listen and “translate” my own “language” into theirs, where I did not take their words as what they were, thus was I not only trying to fit them into my way of using words and assumptions, I was also not listening to them because I was trying to fit them into me, which they were probably doing as well, thus unless both realize this and made an effort there was rejection and/or confusion, and also, even if an effort was made, it was the effort having to be made that caused a lack of ease, and this would take two, equally to work through, which our present system does not give the time necessary for such concerted effort unless it is done on one’s own time, but also this can be done if it is understood, and I have found this does not happen too often, so the learned imitated behaviors of suppression -as fitting into what our parents accepted as what they were taught, will take some understanding to real eyes, and then realign to and as insight into what is the cause of such limitation and then a re-alignment towards what is best for all.
I commit myself to realizing when and as I talk with others, that the difficulty in breathing while talking with others that I have, is myself trying to mince my words into an acceptable story/presentation where I am in fact using my past, as my judgment as my fear of rejection and loss, becoming outcast and labeled as insane, as what I experienced as a child, which is like a “song” of constriction and suppression and false “guide” within myself as fear when and as I interact and speak with others, even to the point where i do not speak at all, to stand up and not use this past as this mud-like funnel within me, that tightens my breath ( which I allow) to direct myself within my world, as this is dishONEsty with and as life, here.
I commit myself to realizing, with real eyes, that this fear, is the negative within and as myself as energy, and the presentation as the limited - fit into the box of acceptance/happy face story that comes out like a fairy tale, and thus has no real substance, and others, like me, are probably bored with hearing the same fairy tale again and again. lol
I commit myself to seeing , realizing and understanding that IF someone tells me their happy face watered down/acceptable fairy tale story, THEN instead of telling them my happy face, watered down/acceptable fairy tale story I respond with in the context of what is best for all, and within this, even though one can take a horse to water but not get them to drink, eventually they will get so thirsty, there will be no choice but to drink of the water of life, as this is the substance of what we all are, equal and one as this is the value and what sustains us, giving as is the nature of life, here, this water that is what is best for all.
