Well its Monday morning, as I committed to myself, 3 blogs per week is my goal, but even that hard to keep up. This is actually more than just sitting and writing, this is like a moment with myself, like a morning prayer, a yogic ritual, that puts me in touch with myself. Last week I can vividly remember one day , yes almost the whole day, how it was smooth and happy, as I had started that morning with writing. So this ritual is more like a therapy for self. Often in the mornings my mind is bit off, meaning, emotions and feelings are all over the place, and that’s worse if I had any sleep troubles, so fair to say morning is the worse time of my day, its the time I chose to write, to help me come out of this mood and start my day with a moment of self-reflection.
Anger is point I can still write a lot, as emotions keeps on repeating, but will return to another time. Had a color session with KimA other day, she suggest me to look ‘support color’ red, another cool session, to lift myself up, stand up for myself, establish a self-relationship before anything else was the lesson, apparently red color will assist me in that. Purple color also mentioned, it will help to ground myself. Then I recall saying “ok let me get some clothes in red and purple”, but never got to it. I guess there is a subtle belief within me, that no color, no clothes can assist me, as if, I am asking myself, how can colorful clothes revive a dead man, yeh that is how I see myself lately, a dead man, just passing his time away till its all over, pretty depressing mindset.
Only I can awake myself from the dead, like how Jesus did 2000 years ago, have be to that miracle worker for myself, can’t allow this gloom and depression to bury me alive. Clothes can assist me a bit in this, there is a lot I have to focus and realign, clothes is one of them, I have a pretty bad attitude about clothes, even those happy days I used to wear old and cheap looking clothes, not supporting at all. As if, I dont’ care how I present myself, how I carry myself, how I walk into a day, into a room of people, I essentially carry myself as an old, cranky, cheap looking, not caring, down person, at least how it shows in my clothes, putting on my best clothes is like a pain, and certainly buying new clothes, forget about it.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to wear old and cheap clothes that are rotten looking and have no expression.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to see clothes as ‘just something to put on’, lacking any expression.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to not see/realize every moment I am expressing myself, and clothes are definitely a part of that. I am carrying myself, expressing myself as who I am in my clothes.
A friend recently told me that my clothes look old and poor, and she is right, I pay no attention to keep up my clothes or maintain them well, just bare minimum care for clothes, and so it shows. Getting some new clothes, in red and purple would support my self expression per my 2nd color chat, yet I am hesitant.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to neglect my clothes just like how I neglect myself and my self expression.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to settle for a mentality of renunciation, as if that’s going to project me as a noble person, not seen/realizing ‘renouncing the world’ is an act of irresponsibility, its running away.
I commit myself to pay attention to my expression in the clothes, in their colors, their well-maintenance and expression. Is there aliveness to my expression, colors, clothes, or am I just a walking dead in how I present myself? I commit myself to look at this deep seated point in more detail to correct myself .
Dead man's Journey to Life - 2.0 