As I graciously accept her acknowledgment I hear the voice of my teacher, mentor and friend Debbie Ford reminds me, “That thing you can never be with, will never let you be.”
Just moments before checking out I battled with a part of myself that claims my unworthiness when it comes to eating well. The whisper was clear, “The organic beet is too expensive, just buy the conventional s@#t.” I know this way of being, I call it “my familiar.”
It’s that place, feeling, memory, action, way of being or thought that I can so easily slip back into that absolutely does not serve my highest consciousness. It’s so familiar, that sometimes I don’t even realize I’ve embraced it… again.
Yet there’s another part of me that knows “my familiar” is a powerful servant, if only to act as a wake up call to being unconsciousness.
It’s quite humbling.
Arrogantly I think I’ve got it all figured out and then I can presence a part of me that simply wants to sabotage my life or in this case have me eat genetically modified or conventional, pesticide filled food.
I’m learning how to make room for this part of me to show up. Giving this shadow part of me some space.
By welcoming it or simply noticing its presence, without making it bad or wrong, my gift is feeling more open, peaceful and free. For a moment I get to have this part of me and it no longer has me. I don’t act out as the saboteur in my life.
It was freeing to be able to tell this stranger, as she asked if $6.74 was too much for three organic beets, that I am so worth it!
By making room for the cheap, non-organic, GMO eating, conventional foodie that I can be, I allowed light to shine on these hidden parts of my personality, and allow them to be expressed, instead of pretending they are not a part of who I am.
I never thought produce shopping could be so freeing.
My cheap self saves me money. My greedy self gives me personal time. My lazy self teaches me to take a break. My racist self shows me compassion. They are all an expression of who I am and their gifts are profound.
My shadows, all of them, want to be heard. When I don’t listen to them, my life turns nasty. Demons demand their pound of flesh or in my case their pound of conventional beets.