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Thinking we are inadequate sucks.
And it happens to the best of us. Sometimes, we can be incredibly harsh on ourselves and beat ourselves up for not being able to trust our powerful, capable being.
We might not know where we’re going, or if we are worthy of the journey in the first place.
I felt this way yesterday—I didn’t feel good enough. I wasn’t able to give myself the love and comfort I so needed, so I lost myself in life’s harsh chaos and uncertainty.
We all have temporary escapes and sources of inspiration—mine is Rumi. Whenever I feel lost, unworthy, or unsure of the future, I grab one of my many Rumi books. Yesterday I opened The Big Red Book and kept randomly reading until Rumi’s words filled me with faith and comfort.
I came across two poems that have significantly changed my mood. If you ever feel like you can’t accept yourself, come back to these poems:
They try to say what you are, spiritual or sexual.
They wonder about Solomon and all his wives.
In the body of the world, they say,
there is a soul, and you are that.
But we have ways within each other
that will never be said by anyone.
This human shape is a ghost
made of distraction and pain.
Sometimes pure light, sometimes cruel,
trying wildly to open,
this image so tightly held within itself.
Stay in the company of lovers.
Those other kinds of people,
they each want to show you something.
A crow will lead you to an empty barn,
a parrot to sugar.
A lover has four streams inside,
of water, wine, honey, and milk.
Find those in yourself and pay no attention
what so-and-so says about such-and-such.
The rose does not care
if someone calls it a thorn, or a jasmine.
Ordinary eyes categorize human beings.
That one is a Zoroastrian. This one, Muslim.
Walk instead with the other vision given to you,
your first eyes.
Do not squint, and do not stare blankly like a vulture.
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