Somewhere along the line, I learned to beat myself up.
Put myself down.
The more I hated myself?
The better.
Pride be gone.
Death to self.
Humility was the goal.
If I wanted to be lifted up, I had to go lower.
The way up was down.
I remember being taught that if I had any pride in what I was doing?
Then I would be better off not doing it.
Has anyone else ever tried this?
I have.
Since the day I learned it.
No pride.
No pride.
Absolutely… no pride.
For the past fifteen years or so, I’ve prayed that God would not let me accomplish anything that would make me prideful.
I’m not kidding.
Reminding myself over and over how there is nothing good in me.
Not one thing to be proud of.
If my job on this earth is to make God famous?
I had better make myself look real bad, so He can look real good.
How low can I go?
If this is a limbo game, I wanna win.
Wait.
No.
I don’t want to win.
Winning might make me prideful.
I want to be successful at being humble.
But, not too successful.
Success might make me prideful.
Do you see the dilemma?
And how easy it could be to self-sabotage in order to stay safe?
And now I’m in the midst of publishing my first book.
Shoot.
How does this work?
I want it to be good.
I mean, I want to sell lots of them.
I would love for people to buy them.
I like it when people tell me my words help them feel “not so alone”.
While we are at it, I would love to speak again.
Too far, Karen.
Maybe?
But, maybe not.
I surely don’t get mad when athletes work hard and win.
Or when someone becomes successful in business.
In any of it, there has to be some sense of pride.
Knowing you can do it.
Believing you have what it takes.
The ambition to win.
Oh, I’ve been winning alright.
Winning at the whole losing game.
The best at putting myself down.
The greatest at making sure everyone knows what a loser I am.
Give me the trophy for groveling.
I’m so very good at it.
So, yesterday I messaged one of my new writer friends.
I asked him how to do this whole author thing.
He wrote back and said we have to give ourselves grace.
Grace to create and write imperfectly.
Ego will always be involved.
And the fact that I’m aware of it means it already has began to lose some power over me.
He said some more and then ended with this…
“So, be as mindful as possible… and then just write.”
I read this last line with tears in my eyes.
Permission to create.
To write or speak, knowing full well, my ego can/will get in the way.
Listening to my desires.
Not being afraid of them.
Bringing them into check without punishing myself for having them.
Best of all?
Being free to walk in the gifts God has given me.
Wait another second…
Did I just say I have gifts?
Holy smokes.
Now that’s progress.