Okay, so I promised to tell you what to do with the list of 20 you made yesterday. (You DID make it, didn’t you? And you ARE writing those morning pages?)
Now, cross off the dumb stuff.
Make a new list of 20 things you can appreciate.
Come on, you can do it. Don’t tell me you can’t, because I don’t believe you. Either you want to feel better, or you don’t. This isn’t hard, and nobody has to see the list but you.
Try this: imagine that you woke up tomorrow morning and everything and everybody in your life was gone. What–and more importantly who–would you miss?
Now, for the dragons. (This is a Buddhist concept. I read it somewhere, and I don’t remember where. If you’re a fundamentalist Christian, don’t scream and run. This is not Of the Devil. The devil gets too much credit anyway, and the collective ego is all the devil anybody needs, but that’s another subject, for another day. If people would think more about God and less about the devil, they’d be better off. Enough said.)
Back to dragons.
What ARE dragons, anyway, you ask, as you well might.
Dragons are the things you resist. That extra 10, 20 or 50 pounds you’re carrying around. That woman at work who sets your teeth on edge. That guy who cut you off on the freeway yesterday afternoon. The husband who leaves his dirty underwear on the closet floor. I could go on–and on–but I know you get the idea, you’re smart.
Dragons are the things you’re afraid of. Strangely, they are often things you want very much, but at the same time, you push them away, because you’re scared of change. NO WONDER you’re frustrated. It’s an endless round of “Come in-Go away, Come in-Go away!” DECIDE, for heaven’s sake!
So now you know the dragon theory. No matter what stage of life you’re in right now–Diana, the Huntress, Athena, the Warrior, Demeter, the Seeker of the Precious Lost, make a shift. Sit down in that bright little room in your head, where you are Hestia and a bright, cheerful fire is burning on your hearth. Make sure you have a welcoming spirit. You want a tea-serving, scone-baking kind of attitude. Now, invite the dragons in for a chat. One at a time, since dragons tend to be unwieldy creatures, and in need of a great deal of elbow room. Ask the dragon–politely, please–what it wants to tell you. And then LISTEN. Take notes. (A list of 20 things the dragon said?) Don’t judge. Don’t chase the dragon away. It’s your friend. It really and truly is. It will tell you what you’re resisting, and why. And you’ll know how to stop, because just being aware of a problem means it’s 3/4 of the way solved.
Resistance repells. Appreciation attracts.