Shedding Beliefs

You know that feeling when you’ve made a large internal shift?

The kind of shift where you’ve faced up to a reality you’ve been avoiding. One that you’ve contributed to by avoiding it.

Where you’ve realized your needs aren’t being met because you’ve been convinced you don’t deserve to ask for what you need.

Essential, spirit-level needs.

Yeah, that kind of shift.

That’s where I am today.

I thought it would feel different. Better. Freeing.

But I’m weepy and full of sadness.

I guess maybe I’m sad for the Me I’ve been ignoring all this time, the Me who’s so tired.

Disappointed in the Me who allowed it to go on so long.

Worried that the consequences of course-correcting might mean things will get worse before they get better.

It takes deep heart-work to look at what we believe, and really question whether those beliefs are our own. Or if they’re just beliefs that “attached” to us from other people.

There’s a part of me, too, who’s baffled at what a vast disconnection I’ve had from my own heart. Not that that’s news to me, but it’s like uncovering a whole new layer of it.

Surely keeping connected might have avoided some of this? (And that, in turn, leaves me wondering why Staying Connected to Your Heart isn’t taught in school. But that’s a soapbox for another day.)

Maybe what I’m feeling is a disorientation caused by the crumbling of some core beliefs I didn’t even realize I had. But now I’ve seen that they’re there, and I don’t want or need them anymore.

Without question, this is a good thing. Yet, it’s all so new. I’m in that tender, raw place of weeding out the old before the new is firmly planted.

Even by writing this, I can feel the shifting continue.

The heavy despair is starting to dissolve, and I can offer love and compassion to both the tired Me and the Me who believed my role in life didn’t include being supported.

11 thoughts on “Shedding Beliefs

  1. Heidi Fischbach

    “I can offer love and compassion to both the tired Me and the Me who believed my role in life didn’t include being supported.”

    Oh my, dear Victoria, I send you lots and lots of lovin tender kind support and sweetness for your dear wonderful heart, and a bucketful of humor and laughter for when that feels right.

    You’re the best. I’m so lucky to know you.


    Heidi Fischbach’s last blog post..A tight box + big energy + curiosity + Leonard Cohen = change

  2. Josiane

    There are so many reasons to be weepy and full of sadness when such a shift occurs… and yet, it always feel a bit disconcerting. I’m glad that the dispair has started to dissolve already. Hope you feel better – much better than before the shift – soon!

    Josiane’s last blog post..Exposing some flesh

  3. Grace

    Hey, there.

    Yeah. You know why staying connected isn’t taught in high school?

    Because they’re scared. And they’re NOT connected.

    Big applause and standing ovations and all that stuff. You’re doing great, even if you don’t feel that way!

    Grace’s last blog post..Why life is like high school

  4. Dave Thurston

    Oh the difference between floating down life’s river in one’s inner tube and paddling over to the edge to get out, to stand up, and to earn some blisters, and thorns, and heat-stroke. And to ultimately be rewarded with sights that can’t be seen from the murky, brown water.

    Good stuff. Godspeed on your Journey.

    Dave Thurston’s last blog post..Cub Scout Fishing

  5. Eileen

    “Worried that the consequences of course-correcting might mean things will get worse before they get better.”

    Oh, oh! Ouch. So fragile and so painful. I’m here with you, if that means anything. So much love to you, dear ~ Eileen

    Eileen’s last blog post..Nonviolence and me

  6. Liz

    I’m so sorry I’m just now getting to your post (I got a bit behind this week). I love the way you are able to express yourself; you are such a great writer.

    You are doing the right thing. It is so hard, and sometimes things do seem worse before they seem better — but keep following your heart’s direction. I’m sending you a very gentle hug (*did you feel it?*) and a virtual gigantic-huge-enormous box of tissues just in case you need them.

    Liz’s last blog post..Introducing the Elephant Manifesto

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