The (He)art of Being

It is incredible how long we spend holding on to things, whether it's holding on to physical possessions, mental clutter or a personal grudge. It is natural to keep jeans we pray we'll someday fit back into when in truth we've outgrown them, at least physically, long ago. But emotionally, we hold on because we think succeeding in fitting into them represents something about us, usually some combination of the following:

a time/situation we could look at ourselves with less shame or guilt

a version of us someone else might admire or find attractive

a semblance of being younger, or fitter or going back in time, or

a reassurance that we can change

In a secret corner of our minds, we still plan revenge make-overs to make an old ex jealous or wait for a break to prove once and for all to that one person who didn't believe in you. It takes energy to hold on to these things, and in so many ways it shapes how we hope others will look at us, and indeed, how we look at ourselves.

The thing I strangely find that we hold on to the hardest and seems to cause the most amount of pain are the expectations. The great expectations we have of ourselves can be unrealistic, unfair and oftentimes a real injustice to the many qualities we possess today. Somehow, there is always something new to improve in ourselves, more to achieve, more to work on and all these with the implicit conditions that it would make us more likable, more appreciated and more loved. It seems sadly ironic; most of the time we hold on so that we can change into something completely different.

While I have nothing against self-improvement, I suppose I take issue that it isn't based on acceptance or appreciation of the present moment. Instead, it is like sprinting towards some ideal future finish line while craning your neck looking backwards the entire time, all the while with a feverish eagerness to escape being who you are right now. If there is so much resistance and non-acceptance of who you are right this moment, what will be different if you're a little thinner or have a better job? Perhaps it's the hope that you'll receive adulation from others, and believe it must mean you are worthy of it, and maybe then you can like yourself...?

But what if you can like yourself now? What if you could love yourself, knowing full well that you are not perfect, not as thin as you think you should be or procrastinate way more than you are proud of? What if other people don't have to like you for you to like yourself? What if you don't have to be perfect to be loved? Because you don't have to be perfect to be loved. Examine the evidence: You love imperfect people everyday, and imperfect people take the time to know you and care for you. Perfection is like a horizon: it is a very decisive-looking line that cannot actually be touched, because it's an illusion. A powerful one that is dazzling and a boon for advertisers telling you that it is what you should aspire towards as if you're not already good enough, but it's an illusion nonetheless. You, on the other hand, are real and you can love yourself right now, with no waiting and no conditions.