Shame, Shame

Did you ever do something really bad?  Is there a moment from the past that you don’t understand and feel sick to your stomach about?shame

I was sitting here and my mind drifted way back.  I was remembering myself as a much younger me.  Most of the time that my mind leads me back there, I see myself, and I don’t know that person.  I am not that person.  If I was that person, I am sorry.  Shame washes over me.  I can feel it warm and burning in my past.  My throat gets a lump.  My eyes fade and do not sparkle.  My stomach twists itself into a pretzel.

I sat here and in the now moment and fully felt the shame.  It amazes me how physically it manifests itself.

I did not run from the emotion or from the memory that triggered it.  What we resist persists — this has been true for me.

I started getting all guru on myself with the whole “the past doesn’t exist” and the whole “forgive yourself” and then I stopped myself.  Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with those statements, but today, I had a new lesson.

As I saw myself, and as I judged myself, I let my compassion guide me toward understanding.  I wanted to know why I was that person in that awful moment.  I thought about it and one of my conclusions was that, the person I was seeing was suffering from a complete lack of love in their life.

I thought about the distance between that me and the me I am now.  I thought about wanting to disown the me of the past.  Those who disown, do you know how violent your disowning is?  And that’s when it hit me.

I wasn’t going to disown that me.  I wasn’t going to beat up on that past me.  I was going to to love that me, because that me needed love.  And that’s what shame taught me today.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s