You’re about to read Chapter 16. Want to start this story from the beginning? Go here.
Working through “Core Beliefs and Other Distortions of Reality” felt more or less like an extension of the Lesson 15’s “Early Childhood Woundings,” but with even longer homework.
In sum: We create our realities based on what we believe. So it’s important to understand what we believe.
And indeed, our early decisions and conclusions about the world works are especially important to see.
Because they have likely been affecting us our whole lives—“not so much because those decisions were true so much as, given that we are in a constant state of creating our lives out of our words, thoughts, feelings, and actions, they became true for us because we believed it to be so.”
“The beliefs that we operate out of become the building blocks to how we conceptualize our lives and who we are in the world. They become our identity.”
In my experience, it is true that what I believe about myself affects how others treat me.
I used to believe it was normal not to make much money, because that is what my journalism professors taught me, and I believed them.
Not surprisingly, for most of the years I worked in media, I did not make much money.
But after I published my first book and started studying business and marketing, my mindset shifted. I realized I was offensively underpaid, and I began to believe I was worth more.
Within a year or two, my salary nearly doubled.
I don’t think I made that happen; I am sure it was a miracle.
But I do think I allowed the miracle to happen by shifting my beliefs.
So, okay, Lesson 16. If I have ideas about myself and the world that need to change so I can receive more love, let’s bring them to the surface.
Lesson 16 in practice
There are two full pages of writing prompts for Lesson 16. Yowza. But I guess that’s what it takes “to distinguish the beliefs and subsequent identity you’ve been crafting and cultivating since childhood.”
Consequently, I did a lot of journaling.
First Katherine asked me to consider a significant disappointment I endured in childhood, and right away I thought of the time Christa Thompson’s mother kicked me out of her house because I had a nosebleed.
Note to every adult ever: Never reject a bleeding child
I was in first grade and had been riding bikes with Christa and some older boys in our neighborhood.
The boys were excited about jumping their bikes over a big log in a field, and I felt pressured to join them. I wanted them to think I was brave and skilled.
Well. I was one of those things!
My bike didn’t make it over the log; I fell off and hit my face and started bleeding. We were close to Christa’s house so she took me there, and her mother met us at the front door.
Christa’s house was very nice, filled with white carpet and new furniture, which her mother made no pretense about protecting. She seemed horrified by my disheveled state and refused me entry.
And so I left and walked my bike the two long blocks home, blood dripping down my dirty face along the way.
Two long blocks now would seem short, but at six years old, it was quite the journey. I felt rejected and ashamed and disgusting.
I was worried what my parents would say when they found out I’d tried to jump my bike. I’m not sure I even told them what happened.
But I do know I picked up a few beliefs from that experience, and none of them have helped me.
Because it’s not true that I can’t count on other people to care for me.
And I am absolutely not a nuisance. My pain is certainly worth attending to.
At the end of this portion of the exercise, Katherine asks us to consider: “What is an alternative interpretation of this experience?”
Oh, that’s easy:
Mrs. Thompson was a bitch.
(I really did try to think of a more compassionate way to frame her situation, but, just, no. You do not turn away a bleeding child.)
Anyway, that anecdote and its related extrapolations is just a taste of what Lesson 16 had to teach me.
But wait, there’s more
I was also asked to examine the messages (verbal and nonverbal) I received about myself in childhood, what beliefs I adopted from each of my parents, and what I currently believe about myself, life, the world, men, and women.
Like I said, a lot of journaling.
Also, a dose of humility when faced with the question: “What do I make it mean about myself that I am single?”
Because, shit, I am single, aren’t I?
Technical separation or not, it’s been months since I’ve even heard Paul’s voice (old voicemails not withstanding).
We are definitely not together now, and if my the latest info from my spirit guides is any indicator, I should not be focused on reconnection.
“We can see you are still attached to the idea of togetherness and this is understandable…and yet this idea will not aid your progress….you may of course continue to send him great love; there is never any wrong in wishing well. But to think that such an action will create an outcome of your choosing is to be flawed in mind.”
And there’s no way around the fact that my spirit guides are wise AF.
So, yeah, it seems I am single. And what do I make that mean?
Not a damn thing.
We can choose our beliefs
It’s tempting to think I’ve missed a memo or failed a test because I’ve yet to “achieve” marriage.
(Gah, our society. I just can’t even sometimes.)
But the truth is, I’m no less deserving of marriage than any of my married friends.
And my married friends are no more equipped to be loving than I am.
We all have plenty of room to grow, and we also have infinite capacity for goodness.
These are beliefs worth choosing.
Love > fear,
Christina
Want to know what happens next? Proceed to Chapter 17.
Missed what happened before? Go back to Chapter 15, or start from the beginning.
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