hey me!

I'm sitting by the window watching the snow fall. It is quite peaceful.  

I was watching Super Soul Sunday and Oprah said that real success is some sort of self actualization. What does that mean?

What does knowing yourself, accepting yourself and eventually loving yourself really look like? How does it happen?

I mean sure, I'm a nice enough person. But I still think ill thoughts about other people. People I love. What's wrong with me?

Do I like myself? 

Yeah-ish. 

I'm currently annoyed at my mother because she wants me to stand up because there is a certain prayer called Ardaas that's playing on her CD player and you are supposed to stand up during this prayer. I'm sitting on the couch and I don't want to stand up. 

She's offended. 

Besides being a lazy person, I can be selfish, self-centered and mean.

I have good qualities too.  I'd rather not list them because it feels vain. However, there are things to like. 

So how does one become one's own friend? I should do nice things for myself, like maybe my laundry before I have to go commando because I'm out of clean underwear. 

My self talk could be kinder. I've never really tried affirmations. Saying things in the mirror to yourself like, "I am great!" seems odd, it's not me. I'd rather be honest with myself. I don't know about great, but I'm good. I just am and that should be enough. I am that I am.

Who said there are requirements that you be outstanding in this life? As the Counting Crows said, "We all want to be big, big stars...we all got different reasons for that." 

I mean there is a part of me that wants to be a star. I want the world to read my stuff and love it. 

However in the end that does not mean those people that love my writing will love me. It won't help me love myself.

What will help me love myself? I kinda think these are the hard questions you have to ask yourself if you want to truly be happy. I mean I like Nina, if I weren't her I would want to be her friend. That's a start. 

I love that statement: I'm OK, you're OK. It's so untrue and true, none of us are OK and all of us are OK.  However it makes me feel like there is hope that everything is OK. 

In this moment, I'm listening to the kirtan or religious hymns my mother is playing in the kitchen behind me. I'm sitting in a high-ceiling room with floor to ceiling wall of windows watching the snow pour down.

What could possibly be wrong with that? And I'm writing which makes me feel whole. 

I mean I don't have a million dollars, I'm barely a thousandaire. I recently lost one of my best friends to a severe mental illness. A myriad of things have gone wrong....

But I will be alright. And this person, this person that will be OK, I'm starting to think she's OK in my book.

Thanks for reading my book.

nina