Opening my eyes to see only grey, light rain tap danced against my window. I took a deep breath and relaxed into my pillow. When living in sunny Los Angeles there is a little excitement when the rain gods decide to babysit us as the sun takes its 12th power nap of the year. It’s rare, it mystical, it’s a change that we all need. There’s something that allows us to switch up our routine, relax a little more and and apparently let go of judgment.
Fuck ya, it’s pancakes in bed time!
Racing my cat to the kitchen, she usually wins, but not today bitch. I whip up my favorite ‘4 ingredient paleo pancakes’ and I decide to get creative and add matcha powder. Who doesn’t want to eat a beautiful light sage green pancake with chocolate chips. Wait did I just add chocolate? Matcha is sooooo in. I feel like a cartoon, dancing and drooling in my Bart Simpson sweatshirt as I prance into my room. I cozy up in my bed with a bamboo tray of my homemade pancakes, tea and a my current book. Yes! The rainy morning I have been waiting for, it’s time to ‘Treat Yourself’.
Than on page 179. I saw the signs. The words shaked me in the side, like a ghetto drive by. I mean I do live in Venice. The tears started coming, and the rain gods dance louder on my window. Damn universally magic!
The black shapes on the paper made my heart implode.
“Love is so simple, so easy and wonderful, but love begins with you. Every relationship improves when you love yourself and live with awareness of your love.”
Fuuuuckkkk. The tears rolled down.
It hit me.
I don’t love myself fully!?
I mean, I made myself pancakes in bed, but there is more, so much more. I’m scared, I haven’t been fully me. I am ME all day everyday, but I saw my judgements about myself.
The rain gods whispered.
“YOU NEED TO PUT YOURSELF OUT THERE!
BE AUTHENTICALLY YOU!
LIVE YOUR LIFE WITH LOVE,
SHARE THIS MESSAGE.”
The words stab my side a little deeper as my eyes saw oceans…
“The only thing left for all of us to do is to create a beautiful story and enjoy a better life. How do you create a beautiful story? By being authentic, it is easy to write your story with integrity, with common sense, with love.”
LOVE. Ugh, self love.
Do I have a fear of loving myself and letting others see it? See me?
It was so hidden, so suppressed. I mean, I am a loud, goofy entertainer. I live for attention, but hidden by shiny costumes, and characters.
The rain gods are now in my room standing over my bed, as if the babysitter thought I was going to sneak out.
You need to make instagram stories with you talking…
More of them…
No no no no, I don’t want too. My judgments kicked in. “People who do IG stories can be annoying”, “There all fake”, “People who talk to their phone have egos.” ,“No one will watch them”, “I hate the way I look when I talk anyways.” “People will see my acne scars”….
All the judgement and lies fell out of my wet eyes.
More words poked my soul.
“Your story is your reality- a virtual reality that is only true for you, the one who creates it.”…
”Your world is your creation, and it’s a masterpiece of art.”
“Every human is a storyteller, which means that every human is an artist. Humans make up stories about everything we perceive, and just like Picasso we distort the truth; but for us, it is the truth.”…”All humans create their story with their own unique point of view, Why try to impose your story on other people when for them your story is not true? When you understand that, you no longer have the need to defend what you believe. It’s not important to be right or to make others wrong. Instead, you see everybody as an artist, a storyteller.”
Duuuuhhhhhh it’s called Instagram story. We are just storytellers of our lives.
I wanted to use Instagram to share positive messages, to share my thoughts about life, to share my love for all the weird things I enjoyed Yes, aliens and kicking orange cones.
Guess what? NO ONE GIVES A FUCK except the lies I was telling myself in my head. I could feel myself being free, who am I transforming too? Talking on IG would push me to break down my wall. I would learn to be vulnerable, I would learn to not give a fuck, I would learn I loved my life, and love my thoughts about life.
It hit me…
I WAS OVER CARING WHAT OTHERS THINK OF ME!
“There is only one way to change our story, and that is by changing what we believe about ourselves.”
A new me was born on that rainy morning.
So what was this wonderful book that led me to this epiphany? The man who reminds us the simple truth of love, Don Miguel Ruiz, “The Voice Of Knowledge”. A serious guide to inner peace, who teaches you to stop the lies and judgement in your head and reminds us that we are Beings of love who create art.
When you come from a place of love, you only see love in all that is around you.
Thank you rain gods and Miquel for this beautiful breakthrough within.
I am on a new journey and hope to share my message of LOVE … and it might get weird.