Radical Self-Love is Compost for the Soul | Meghan Gilroy

Most mornings these days you can find me on the floor shaking. I’ve finally surrendered to the bright morning light and the chirpy birds and the amped up- anxious-want-to-crawl-out-of-my-skin feeling.

Historically, I am not a morning person so it is no small feat to admit that to try to go back to sleep will just be torture. I’m also usually calm and centered and good at breathing and moving and releasing energy so I SHOULD NOT be experiencing this discomfort – again. It’s a beautiful summer day, for god’s sake.

“Hush… hush… It’s okay,” I murmur to myself and slither to the floor for my new morning routine.

Life has been intense. Outer challenges have been revealing inner disappointment, self-judgment, irresponsibility, and old ways of being that no longer work. All the basics are up – survival, security, self-worth, trust, power.

It’s breath-taking in its scope and depth. I’ve been doing deep, spiritual, inner work for almost 15 years, dammit. Now is not the time for this! I should be done and ready to move on. I have problems and challenges that need tending to.

Sigh.

I’ve been feeling not only my own anxiousness, but everyone’s who is around me. I feel the Earth’s agitation. I feel the collective’s rumblings and shiftings.

Every fiber in my being wants to make it better. Take massive action. Do something. Anything. Then the voices chime in.

Fine. Go on, speak.

“Shhh! Don’t say what you really want. You might disappoint someone. You might hurt somebody’s feelings,” says my inner good girl.

“Heck, you don’t even know what you really want!” says my judge.

“Hey, lazy bones! Jump out of bed and get to work! Fix this!! Work hard to make it go away,” says my overachiever.

“Figure this out. Design a program, a course, an offering. Help yourself by making money helping someone else,” says my over-helper.

“Wait! Don’t go out there! It’s scary! It’s too much! You might get hurt,” says my sensitive, wounded child.

“STOP. Just stop,” says the one, clear, true inner voice says, “STOP. Slow down. Tend to the basics. Allow yourself to feel what you are feeling. Get clear on what you want. Don’t build on a faulty foundation. Allow life to support you, present opportunities to you. No pushing. No striving. STOP.”

This is SO not what I want to hear.

So I crawl to the floor and spread out my yoga mat. I place my hands on my belly and breathe. “No, that was not a breath,” I gently cajole myself after a shallow inhale. I urge myself to breathe all the way into my womb. My body starts to shake.

I feel a little ridiculous doing energy work on myself, and yet I know this is the way through all this energy.

I move my hands to my solar plexus, my heart, my throat. My body rattles and tears start to fall. I feel guides and helpers surround me. I talk to my bestest friends in my head, the ones I know whole-heartedly love and accept me, so I can hear myself and what ails me more clearly.

My body starts to twist and turn into yoga positions. More shaking. More releasing. More knowing why all of this is appearing. This is not about money. Or relationships. Or career. This about my soul’s evolution. Layer after layer peels away. Daily acceptance. Radical self-love. Giving myself the kind of tender support I offer my friends and clients.

I wonder about my sanity, my future, my ability to move through all of this. And yet under it all is a deep, solid knowing that all is well. The inner and outer chaos is for the best. A more authentic, loving, truthful way of living is being birthed. Compost for the soul.

Whatever you think is your greatest weakness, is also your greatest strength. Your neuroses is your gift. 

The universe is perfectly designed to give you the parents, partners, children, friends, circumstances, situations, challenges and joys that will guide you to your authentic self and to great service and happiness when you peel away your self-judgment and radically accept who you are.

Your soul composts all the tough, heart-breaking, breath-taking, tear-inducing scraps of life and creates fertile soil for you to be who you truly are. It plants seeds of serendipity and support. Out of the muck grows your gifts. And like compost, it takes time to decompose, breakdown, fertilize the ground, and grow a bountiful garden.

Eventually I will sit up, cleansed, more grounded. I meditate, hearing whatever inner guidance is ready to come through. I am gentle with myself.

What do I want?

What’s the next right step?

This nurturing myself is what most needs to be done right now.

It’s all I need to do.

And it’s sure as heck so much harder than not jumping into more doing.

Radical Self-Love. Compost for the Soul.

 

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