Thursday, December 27, 2007 at 12:12am
The sacredness of self
Column: Our Place in the Universe
This column originally was published on Jan. 25, 2007.
"Why do you always say nice things to me?" she asked. "Because you're worth it," I responded. "My boyfriend doesn't say nice things to me. He thinks he doesn't have to." Hmmm, I mused. We still learn from example. No matter how individualistic or innovative we are, when our hearts are filled with loving actions and our minds are filled with positive words, we will mirror that truth.
It happens when we are small, but also when we are grown, since most of us are still hungry for love, for acceptance and for approval. My boss comes in every morning exclaiming, "How did I get so lucky?" I'm the lucky one, since I don't have to look far for that approval.
I made the decision to pass it on a while ago. It's like polishing silver, believing in that bright spot within and working on it until you see the shine. Funny thing, though — it's harder to do with those who are close to you. With family or friends, it seems it's easier to complain, find fault or seek sympathy with a "poor me" attitude, emphasizing the negative to gain attention.
With family we become comfortable with our shortcomings — like the habits that we have when we are alone, knowing no one can see us. I was talking to my son. He asked, "How do you know when you're being selfish? On the other hand, living for the sake of others is all well and good, but how do you know when it becomes too much, and those around you suffer because of it? If living for others is a principle of nature, why is it so confusing?"
"Mostly," I said, "it's because we don't start at the beginning." When we're babies, we are the center of the universe. We learn that it's all about me; we learn how to receive. ("You said that we were all the center of the universe!" "Yes, that's right. We are always in an object role to someone; always someone's baby or younger brother or sister, or employee, or even heart of the Beloved.")
Learning how to receive actually teaches us, models for us how we are to give. As we grow, we learn to take on more responsibility and are able to offer more. Still, we come back to the center to receive, to be filled up, to be reminded that we are "worth it." The more we learn that lesson, the more we are able to share it, pass it on, and overflow onto others. In Nietzsche's "Thus Spake Zarathustra," Zarathustra says, "Whole and holy I call that selfishness."
Being productive can be an effective way to grow and change, but before a plant can bear fruit, it must be watered over and over again. It is that mindfulness in our lives that makes the receiving possible. Words of care and concern, acts of service and forgiveness, nurture the tenderness within. It is the rootedness of our thoughts and hearts that provides the vehicle to absorb another's love. And this rootedness comes from our own belief in our ability to be loved.
To truly believe that we are loved, we must let go of the hold our mind has over what we think of as reality. One of Thomas Moore's "Meditations" speaks of releasing the authority and influence of the mind in order to allow our heart, or some other place of reflection, to be nourished.
"Maybe," I said to my son, "what you have the opportunity to learn this semester [for he is now in college] is not the information that you are expecting to get out of your classes. Perhaps, rather than only 'feeding your head' by reading the pages of your books, you must learn to feed your heart and soul as well by becoming the empty page and allowing the day, the moment, to write its experience on you."
Perhaps, when this happens, when we make room for the Beloved to come and write on our "beautiful empty pages" (Hafez), then we will know we are worthy. Then we will be able to tell others that they too are worthy. Perhaps we will be reminded that this one small self has cosmic value.
Again in "Meditations," Moore says, "Education in soul leads to the enchantment of the world and the attunement of self." This is one truth that I would wish to mirror, reflecting back to all others the sacredness of that self.
— — —
Anne E. Ulvestad is a free-lance writer residing in Maryland. She has her masters in earth literacy, and is available for public lectures and group presentations and rituals on Spirituality and the Environment. Anne can be reached at {email anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com}anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Anne E. Ulvestad.
"Why do you always say nice things to me?" she asked. "Because you're worth it," I responded. "My boyfriend doesn't say nice things to me. He thinks he doesn't have to." Hmmm, I mused. We still learn from example. No matter how individualistic or innovative we are, when our hearts are filled with loving actions and our minds are filled with positive words, we will mirror that truth.
It happens when we are small, but also when we are grown, since most of us are still hungry for love, for acceptance and for approval. My boss comes in every morning exclaiming, "How did I get so lucky?" I'm the lucky one, since I don't have to look far for that approval.
I made the decision to pass it on a while ago. It's like polishing silver, believing in that bright spot within and working on it until you see the shine. Funny thing, though — it's harder to do with those who are close to you. With family or friends, it seems it's easier to complain, find fault or seek sympathy with a "poor me" attitude, emphasizing the negative to gain attention.
With family we become comfortable with our shortcomings — like the habits that we have when we are alone, knowing no one can see us. I was talking to my son. He asked, "How do you know when you're being selfish? On the other hand, living for the sake of others is all well and good, but how do you know when it becomes too much, and those around you suffer because of it? If living for others is a principle of nature, why is it so confusing?"
"Mostly," I said, "it's because we don't start at the beginning." When we're babies, we are the center of the universe. We learn that it's all about me; we learn how to receive. ("You said that we were all the center of the universe!" "Yes, that's right. We are always in an object role to someone; always someone's baby or younger brother or sister, or employee, or even heart of the Beloved.")
Learning how to receive actually teaches us, models for us how we are to give. As we grow, we learn to take on more responsibility and are able to offer more. Still, we come back to the center to receive, to be filled up, to be reminded that we are "worth it." The more we learn that lesson, the more we are able to share it, pass it on, and overflow onto others. In Nietzsche's "Thus Spake Zarathustra," Zarathustra says, "Whole and holy I call that selfishness."
Being productive can be an effective way to grow and change, but before a plant can bear fruit, it must be watered over and over again. It is that mindfulness in our lives that makes the receiving possible. Words of care and concern, acts of service and forgiveness, nurture the tenderness within. It is the rootedness of our thoughts and hearts that provides the vehicle to absorb another's love. And this rootedness comes from our own belief in our ability to be loved.
To truly believe that we are loved, we must let go of the hold our mind has over what we think of as reality. One of Thomas Moore's "Meditations" speaks of releasing the authority and influence of the mind in order to allow our heart, or some other place of reflection, to be nourished.
"Maybe," I said to my son, "what you have the opportunity to learn this semester [for he is now in college] is not the information that you are expecting to get out of your classes. Perhaps, rather than only 'feeding your head' by reading the pages of your books, you must learn to feed your heart and soul as well by becoming the empty page and allowing the day, the moment, to write its experience on you."
Perhaps, when this happens, when we make room for the Beloved to come and write on our "beautiful empty pages" (Hafez), then we will know we are worthy. Then we will be able to tell others that they too are worthy. Perhaps we will be reminded that this one small self has cosmic value.
Again in "Meditations," Moore says, "Education in soul leads to the enchantment of the world and the attunement of self." This is one truth that I would wish to mirror, reflecting back to all others the sacredness of that self.
— — —
Anne E. Ulvestad is a free-lance writer residing in Maryland. She has her masters in earth literacy, and is available for public lectures and group presentations and rituals on Spirituality and the Environment. Anne can be reached at {email anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com}anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Anne E. Ulvestad.