Something About Nothing

This week I feel as if I have nothing to write about. There are no deep pains I have to get off my chest, no truths to uncover. I always ask myself what is the point of writing if it’s not going to be great. In fact what is the point of you doing anything if it is not the best. I’ve struggled with this notion throughout my life and I feel have quit many things I loved because I didn’t understand I could do them simply just to do enjoy them. I didn’t have to care about rank or what the finished product was or even, what people thought of it. I made a commitment to myself to do something, in this case write and even if I write about nothing for sixty straight weeks it’s the commitment to that nothing that counts.

What do you mean you don’t

I saw a quote on Tumblr, back when I had a blog there that read something to the effect of “do you think God ever gets sad like, ‘what do you mean you don’t love yourself, I worked so hard on you’ “.  I’ve recently been changing my mindset, working on a different inner belief, less critical and self-tormenting and this quote made me almost break into tears. I’ve spent so many years hating myself, literally fluctuating between praying to God and screaming at God for how I am or how I want to be. I can only imagine the universe seeing us, tormented and self righteous with hatred thinking ‘but can’t you see how beautiful you are?’ I couldn’t see. I have days where I don’t see. After all these years though and all this pain how could you not love yourself. The cliche truth is that no one else will love you the way you love yourself. They just can’t. What we give ourselves and acknowledge in ourselves is something only our souls can do. I’ve taken the time lately during every day to stop and think on this question: what do you mean you don’t love yourself and I can always find so many reasons to love myself, so many patterns of thought to continue changing and turning around. I don’t want to be hateful and sad about who I am anymore and I certainly don’t want God to be sad about seeing me down here wasting the experience of being me.