Rumi, the Persian poet, famously wrote, ‘the wound is where the light enters you.’
Wounds of the past don’t kill us but make us stronger. Sure, they leave a scar, but that only proves that you went through some shit, and survived.
Wear your scars with pride! You’ve overcome ! You won the battle! Scars are a trophy; a symbol of your strength and endurance. Don’t hide them. Celebrate them!
A lot of people warned me after my recent issue that I’d probably have a scar. They said it in this serious voice. I told each of them, ‘yeah I hope so!’ I want proof of this battle! I want a reminder that I’m strong and can handle whatever life throws at me.
Whether from: Breast cancer, childbirth, injury, operations—whatEVER: Be proud of your scars! They show that you won the battle!! ❤️👏🏼💃🏿🥳
Are YOU proud of your scars?
Of course some wounds are invisible. But whether physical or emotional, if you view your challenges from a different angle, that’s where learning and understanding come in (ie, the light entering). Don’t ask, ‘why did this happen to me’ but ‘what is this teaching me? What is it doing FOR me?’
Will you let in the light or become bitter from the fight?
I’m working with this wonderful coach, which someday I’ll write more about. For now I’ll just say she’s helping me get out of my comfort zone and push through boundaries —like posting every day, showing more of myself, etc.
Part of my ‘homework’ is daily silent meditation. She says it’s non-negotiable. I’m no stranger to meditation—I’ve done it on and off for 15 years, but usually with a mantra, a guided meditation, or at least a group. I’m finding that silent meditation is a b&tch though. I start the usual way: get comfortable, take deep breaths, try to quiet my mind, and… a million thoughts come in. I make lists, suddenly remember things I forgot to do, the typical monkey mind. Sometimes (often) I even forget I’m supposed to be meditating and I get up and do other things! I just completely forget I even started a meditation.
I almost went on a five-day silent retreat once. If I can’t handle a ten-minute silent meditation, can you imagine how that would have gone? In one of the pictures of the event from the prior year, they showed people sitting immersed in these gorgeous alpine settings and looking blissed out—except for one guy who was looking down, hands on his head looking like he was about to lose it. That probably would’ve been me after about three days.
I really want to conquer this.
I never have this problem with guided meditations. What am I doing wrong? Do you meditate silently? Have any tips for me? Someone please help!!!
I love this hour, when the day isn’t quite over but the night hasn’t begun; when the world catches its breath. I’ve heard it called magic hour, or golden hour. In Austria, it’s called Blaue Stunde, or Blue Hour. I call it FTODOTB (favorite time of day on the beach). Whatever you want to call it, it’s soul filling.