It’s the puzzle we all face as we go about healing and restoring a wounded self-esteem. We want to value and love ourselves more completely. We certainly know the anguish when those old feelings of worthlessness creep in. We even know the areas where we’re most "sensitive" and self-critical. But how on earth do we get from these wincing, self-negating feelings to feelings of self-love? How do we love ourselves when in many ways we so painfully don’t? If you’re experiencing this frustration, don’t be discouraged. In finding your way to self-love, it will often seem like "you just can’t get there from here." This apparent impasse is absolutely to be expected. And here’s why.

We’ve all arrived at those moments when we feel overwhelmed, even under siege, by trying circumstances within our life. We’ve done all we can, bearing up as best we can, but without great success or relief. And in our frustration and fatigue, we’ve probably looked up to heaven and asked: “How can you possibly ask more of me?” If we could hear clearly through our distress, we’d probably hear heaven lovingly reply: “We are not." And this is a most compassionate and instructive answer, for our lessons are never sent to punish or defeat us. So when we find ourselves truly anguished by our challenges, we can be sure that it is we, and not heaven, that need to be reminded we’ve done enough. In other words, while our circumstances and life-lessons will certainly make demands on us, it is the “added” weight of our own self-judgment – our impatience with ourselves and our life, our “sense” of failure or injustice, our fear – that actually depletes our strength and overwhelms us.

Be you ever so wise, confident, and “enlightened,” you will nonetheless find yourself at times uncertain: uncertain about what actions to take, uncertain about your life, uncertain about your place or purpose in this life. At such times, we tend to think of ourselves as confused or lost, and consequently feel fearful, “unsupported” in the larger sense, or even powerless.We must appreciate, however, that in order to grow, we will necessarily move from certainty to uncertainty. Uncertainty is actually a valid and essential phase of our learning. And in order to move through this phase, we must be able to recognize it as such and resist the inclination to fear it and judge ourselves for it.

It’s all too easy to misinterpret periods of great growth and advancement – in our personal lives and in our world – as dark and difficult times. As times of great fear. And in the face of these fears, we can find ourselves feeling disheartened and “at odds” with our growth. But, in point of fact, we are never more aligned with our growth – and with our growing strength – than when we come up against our fears. Far from being a discouraging sign, our fears actually show us where we are growing … because as we grow, we will necessarily “push out” against our fears. So this “rise” of our fears is actually a healthy sign and a logical, natural phase in our growth. And it needn’t be a long or difficult one. We get stalled in this phase simply because when these fears do surface, we will tend to “identify” with them rather than releasing them.

If the “laws of attraction” are not delivering for you quite as advertised, don’t fret. If visualizing a pile of cash hasn’t yet made you wealthy, it’s not because you’re not powerful. And if your perfect mate hasn’t yet arrived, it’s not because the Universe isn’t listening. In fact, you and your thoughts are extremely powerful – just as the “laws of attraction” would tell us. And the Universe is always listening. But in the interest of our learning and our longer-term happiness, the Universe listens not only to our thoughts and intentions but also to our underlying beliefs. And there’s the snag … because more often than not, we will have an underlying belief or fear that is in direct contradiction to what we wish to attract. And for better or worse (… better, as it turns out), the Universe will simply not “deliver” to us what is inconsistent with our beliefs. Fortunately, the “laws of reflection” operate to show us these hidden fears and contradictory beliefs … so that we may heal them and clear the way for what we truly want.

Of all the learning we do in this life, learning to love ourselves is perhaps the most challenging and certainly the most fundamental and instrumental to the quality of our lives. Ultimately, loving ourselves amounts to nothing more than seeing ourselves clearly. The challenge, however, is that from our earliest years our lives tend to distort our view of ourselves, so that we are led to believe that our worthiness is very conditional. Consequently, our lives can become a struggle to see ourselves as worthy of love. Fortunately, this clarity about who we are and our inherent worthiness cannot be lost. And, while challenging, rediscovering this worthiness – learning to see ourselves truly – is an extraordinarily empowering path.

Breaking our patterns of unworthiness will indeed require our deliberate intention, awareness, and choice. It will often require outright discipline, because these wounded beliefs can "seem" quite real to us … and the wounded patterns can "seem" justifiable. Why do they seem so real? Because when these wounded beliefs are triggered, we are immediately launched back into the wounded energy. When these old thoughts of unworthiness arise in us – “I am lazy,” “I am good for nothing,” “I am fat,” “I am dumb” – our minds and bodies instantly recall all the occasions that seem to support these beliefs. We feel the “attack,” the rejection, the disempowerment, and all the emotional charge (anger, hurt, sadness) as though it were happening in the present moment.

We all know it, only too well. It’s that inner voice, that “inner critic,” that seems always present and always keenly prepared to defeat us. When we feel happy, the voice says: “Yeah, this can’t last.” When we’re about to attempt something, it whispers: “Watch out. You’re gonna fail.” It’s an insidious, negative and negating voice. It’s a background chorus of doubt. Certainly if such constant nagging and ridicule came from another, we would flee from this person. But how do we address a critic that we can’t escape … and one that speaks with our own voice?

The conventional context for healing is simple: we have a wound, the wound is treated, when the wound no longer exists we say we are healed. It’s a “binary” view: we’re either whole or we’re not. And that “wholeness” looks more or less the same on everyone. But while this context may work well for a simple, physical injury, it’s inadequate for the kind of healing we undertake for our greater wholeness as individuals: our emotional healing, the healing of the “self,” the healing associated with our fears and “wounded” beliefs.

We concluded Part 1 of this article emphasizing that in the context of our personal healing, judgment and comparisons simply do not apply. Our particular healing – our particular areas of challenge – are ours and unique to us. Indeed, to judge or condemn them is to misunderstand their role in our lives. In fact, it is by honoring our areas of wounding that we make them ours and begin to return them to wholeness. We will now discuss how exactly we "honor our healing" in practice.

You’ll recall from Meditations2go Article: "A Context for Healing” that when it comes to our personal healing, it’s best to see our “wounding” not so much as an area we are fixing, but an area or aspect of ourselves where we have chosen to discover greater strength and understanding. And that this healing tends to progress in phases and through successive levels. Having said this, there is a particular phase in the healing process that deserves special attention. It merits attention as it’s a phase in which we frequently get bogged down, stalling the “progression” that is our healing, and often frustrating us.

Moving out of this “stinging,” defensive phase of our healing simply requires our awareness, our understanding … and a little conscious discipline. That conscious discipline comes into play when we acknowledge and concede that pain and wisdom rarely "travel" together within us. Being human, we tend to “react” to pain, rather than respond to it. That’s just the way we are. When we feel or experience something we don’t like – something painful – our first impulse is to look (and sometimes strike out) in an outward, defensive direction. But our healing begins when we choose instead to look, with compassion, to ourselves.

It has been wisely observed that though we may strive to be “one with” the universe or some higher knowing or truth, in practice we tend to be one with our comfort. And as we’ve discussed elsewhere in these articles, as “sensitive” beings we are particularly sensitized to our own pain. So, if as physical and emotional beings we are “designed” to feel and respond to our pain, we need to understand what our pain is actually telling us. And if we wish not to be ruled by our pain, or our desire to escape it, we must come to see our pain in a more constructive light … and practice a few basic skills for moving with it rather than against it.

One of the ways we elevate our pain beyond the simple human reaction that it is, is by interpreting our pain or loss as a punishment or a sign of failure. We see the pain – and the events leading to it – as personal. And though these events may have been out of our control or despite our best efforts, it becomes something we did. And the pain becomes something we somehow deserve. This is an easy trap to fall into, and one we must watch for. Often our pain or distress will indeed “hook” into our old wounded beliefs and fears about ourselves and our lives. So, for instance, that painful break-up becomes a “sign” that we’re not lovable or not attractive enough. Or losing our job or that opportunity we were counting on becomes more evidence that the world is against us.

If you are drawn to meditation and spiritual growth, you are no doubt “sensitive.” And as we pursue these paths and practices, our sensitivity will certainly grow: sensitivity to our own feelings and “energy” ... and sensitivity to the world around us. This sensitivity is of course a strength, as we need it for our compassion and for connecting with ourselves and others. It is also a great power, as we cannot hope to properly address a thing (internally or externally) until we become aware of it. But as with any power, sensitivity requires a degree of balance. Without this balance, our growing sensitivity can become a burden to us and a source of distress -- particularly in our rather turbulent world. Fortunately, finding this balance and moving comfortably with our sensitivity requires just a few simple skills ... and a better understanding of what our sensitivity is and is "not" for.

The reason “perfectionism” is so pervasive and so difficult for us to shake is that there is an element of it that is actually quite healthy ... and a naturally strong force within us. This healthy thread is of course our desire to grow. Our desire to become more of who we are, our desire to create and refine, our desire to excel and rise above our fears, our desire to be loved. These needs, these drives, are not only healthy and fundamental to our deepest nature, they are sacred. And being sacred, our pursuit of them is meant to nourish and honor us. But to the extent that these very pure and powerful drives get mixed up with our fears and wounded beliefs about ourselves, their power can become a bit unbalanced … and begin to work against us.

The simple, but very powerful first step in disarming our perfectionism is beginning to notice when it’s operating. We must start to detect – not judge, but simply observe – in what situations, with which people, and in what ways we are trying chiefly to prove or vindicate ourselves rather than being ourselves and expressing our natural strengths and nature. As we mentioned in Part 1 of this article, there’s always a bit of a mix. And the idea is not to eliminate our every perfectionistic tendency. We must merely “shift" our focus so that we’re primarily aligned and invested with our aspirations and pure intentions rather than that perfectionism. To do this, we must see clearly the distinction between the two. What is this distinction? The distinction between our perfectionism and our true aspirations lies in what our actions are serving: in what beliefs we are primarily serving.

As we approach the holidays we look forward to a time of joy and happiness, for lightness and warmth. It is a season of fond memories, great anticipation ... and much planning. And whereas this yearning and anticipation is quite understandable, it can also be a bit of a trap. Expecting great joy and not finding it, we may become all the more disheartened. Seeing warmth around us yet not experiencing it ourselves, we may find ourselves feeling all the more separated. Fortunately, by learning to be more accepting of our emotions – moving with rather than against them – our emotions become our allies, helping us connect with others and with our own personal seasons. [While this article was written during the holiday season, it applies year-round.]

The end of the year is a very powerful time. And one that presents some unique opportunities and challenges. Along with “holiday” pressures, we must also contend with the natural shifting of “energy” that comes as we approach the close of the year. As one creative cycle ends and another begins – as it does with the turn of our calendar year – the larger energies that move us forward will need to rearrange themselves. There will be a necessary shifting of momentum. And while this momentum shift can be a bit disconcerting, it’s also a key opportunity to choose what we wish to bring forward into the new year.

Life seems almost perfectly arranged to keep us guessing as to why we are here … about our role, our place, in this world. At one moment the problems of the wider world seem to call to us with the greatest urgency. In the next, these vanish as we’re called to our own urgent needs. The sublime achievements of others can inspire us, exciting our deepest aspirations – and at the same time confound us, fearing we can never approach such mastery. And when we see so many struggling to find their way, how can we feel certain of our own? The answer is that, for the vast majority of us, we will not be certain. Nor should we expect to be.

The normal challenges in life – surrounding our work, our families and relationships, our goals and creations – will make demands on our energy and will require an amount of our resources and focus. When these external situations become unbalanced – as they certainly will from time to time – they will tend to draw more from us. And because these situations are important to us, when that crisis or “rocky” patch does come, our initial reaction may be to jump into the situation with all our energy, in an effort to “fix” it. But while understandable, this approach is much more likely to draw us off-balance than to re-establish balance in the situation.