Self Esteem DIARY

I am walking through the offices of Investec. I do some therapy work there for Maureen Kark & Associates.

The beautiful aroma of coffee wafts through my senses.

There is a subtle and now, not so powerful desire to have a cup and of course a muffin, which I can never eat.

I can only have about one cup every 2 months because of my Chronic Fatigue thing.

I notice that in a split second I can just appreciate and enjoy the smell of the coffee without having to drink it.

What a pleasure to be free of wanting.

It’s a beautiful Sunday morning.

I’m out walking in our Estate.

The sky is blue, the sun is shining, the ducks I so love are swimming on the dam.

All is perfect.

I walk past a beautiful home overlooking the green belt.

A barbecue is out beside the pool and suddenly I think, “I wish I lived there, they have a better view than our home and a Sunday barbecue beside the pool, with that view, would make life seem perfect!”

The magnificent day has been ruined by my thoughts.

I smile inwardly at myself and connect on the inside with the beauty I imagine I would get at this neighbours home.

The day is beautiful again.

I’m thinking about a friend of mine who has sold more books than me.

A lot more.

I catch myself jumping into envy.

What creates this feeling?

It’s the idea that I’ll be much happier if I’ve sold more books.

Just another lie to make myself miserable.

Then I remember that I spoke to this friend a while back. I asked her about her success and how gratifying it was.

She said that she wanted to escape to a Greek island.

I watch myself tightening at the slightest sign of trouble.

Someone is angry with me, I lose a client, my body is oh so tired.

Noticing this contracted wanting, fighting life, as it endlessly winds its way through these sometimes desperate days, like a slow, lazy python strangling my spirit.

What would my life feel like if I could open my arms to the inevitable slings and arrows of outrageous reality, what would that be like…I wonder…as my chest, my fabulous heart, softens and opens?

I am lying on my bed watching a movie cuddling my gorgeous cat Frankie.

He nuzzles my hand. He purrs.

Such a magnificent connection.

Suddenly, he starts to bite me playfully. He spreads his claws and digs them into my hand.

I do my best to escape his playful wrath.

I fail.

First the pain, then the blood, slowly extruding from the wounds.

There is some resistance to the pain, but none to Frankie.

I love him and it is in his nature to do this.

Why can I not do the same when those people around me whom I supposedly love, claw at me – it’s just their nature too, but I take it personally, I am hurt.

What is this madness that says I can only truly love an animal but not a person?