Diversion is how I go unnoticed for so long. I am so good at it that I don’t even know I’m doing it until my very own survival is debatable itself. The flickering of my neglected inner self glitches so severely that it is no longer ignorable, but becomes so much of a nuisance that engaging it is no longer optional but necessary lest it lose functionality at all.
Usually by this time the neglect is so straightforward and blatant that gutting it and starting over is the most reasonable form of action, even if throwing it all away always seems more tempting.
More often than not I get mad at myself: How did this happen again? Why do I keep forgetting basic survival prerequisites? What is it that is so important, so powerful, and so effectively distracting that keeps me from caring about myself? And why is it so successful every time? What is instilled inside of me — what core belief — fosters this ability to completely cloak my inner self to the point of invisibility to my own detriment?
Whatever lie I am clinging to is very well-fed and well-hidden; I will get to the bottom of it. And when I do, I will completely extinguish it, and it will never try to choke me out — ever again.
I am ready for the growth, and also for the nurturing. I need the nurturing and I look forward to it. Yoga is one of those things that has only increased my capacity to love myself. It has helped me find value in myself; it has helped me care for myself; and it has helped me love others. I hope one day it will absorb the majority of the parts I’ve hidden from myself so that I will be brand new: in a butterfly type fashion. Transformed, really.