You’re about to read Chapter 31. Want to start this story from the beginning? Go here.
Confession: I am losing steam on this quest.
I am not losing my resolve, mind you.
I am nothing if not stubborn, and even if just purely on principle, I am determined to keep my word and finish what I started thirty-one days ago.
But there is a chance these posts might get a little shorter.
Partly because these topics are no longer challenging the crap out of me—Week 3 seems to have been a real turning point.
And also, this process is working! I am fixating less and less on Paul, and focusing more and more on my business and my life at large.
Which means less time for blogging.
I figure you’ll understand, not that you’re seeing this anyway.
(That last comment, by the way, is not even a reference to the secrecy of this blog—at this point I don’t care whether these posts are on the DL. But let’s be real, the only way you’d have eyes on Lesson 31 is if you clicked your way thirty links deep, because I haven’t yet set up a sidebar menu. And it is rather unlikely that you’ve done that. So it’s pretty safe to assume I’m typing deep into the wilderness at this point.)
Anyway, on to the lesson at hand: The Art of Receiving.
I have struggled to receive
Before I had a healthy sense of self-worth, confidence, and self-esteem, I did not expect much from anyone else.
I was happy to give, give, give—especially if doing so would get me the approval, belonging, and acceptance I so deeply craved.
So Katherine’s assessment of why we resist receiving hit home:
“Many times,” she says, “we choose to be with people who don’t really get us and, therefore, can’t really support us. We do this because (1) we don’t quite believe in the possibility of our own greatness and (2) because we’re not even aware of what it would be like to be supported.”
Indeed, “we’re so used to going it alone that it doesn’t even occur to us to look for someone who would love to put the gust in our sails and the wind beneath our wings.”
We’re just not used to receiving in that way, she says.
For me, that rang true.
In literally every relationship before Paul, I accepted much less than I desired.
But over time my awareness of my own greatness increased. And even though I had no direct experience of what it looked like to be consistently loved and supported, I knew such a dynamic could exist, and that I deserved it.
And then came Paul.
When I first met Paul, I could hardly handle his goodness
Paul is very kind.
He just is.
And although I got used to it pretty quick, at first I found his goodness to be a challenge.
Case in point: I had food poisoning on our first date, but I didn’t tell him because I didn’t want to cancel or to gross him out.
Of course, good luck hiding food poisoning from someone you’re watching a movie with.
So before long I had to confess that I was sick, and he immediately responded with gracious compassion and support.
That was hard enough to take in. But then the next day, he sent me a text and asked how I was feeling!
I know this sounds ridiculous, but, you guys, that text made me so uncomfortable that I ignored it for an entire day.
Like, I just could not receive the basic kindness that he was sending my way.
Fortunately, it turned out that Paul and I were both very open communicators, and I was able to share with him how hard it was to feel so cared for.
Eventually, we even made a joke out of our upper limits.
(Upper limits = the set points of happiness or success that, when unconsciously hit, can sabotage us from expanding upward.)
“Uh-oh, I think I bumped my head!” one of us would say whenever the other said or did anything particularly loving.
Together, we challenged each other to love more, to receive more, to leave behind our comfort zones of accepting less.
I got used to goodness, and I am ready for more
No matter what happens with Paul, I will be forever grateful for all that we shared.
Because of him, I know for sure how it feels to be fully seen and appreciated.
To paraphrase Katherine, he saw the highest vision of my life, and he understood the possibilities of what it means to be me.
Paul got my greatness, and he loved me for it.
So it’s no wonder I wanted more.
And I’m glad he didn’t feel comfortable giving me less.
Lesson 31 in practice
I’ll be honest, this homework didn’t do much for me.
But that’s probably just because the idea of breathing love in and breathing love out is already what I try and do all day.
But hey, at least the assignment did not involve journaling! (I’ve been experiencing a little journaling fatigue.)
So if you have a few minutes to give it a go, it’s certainly worth your while.
Simply get still, sit tall, and relax.
Then when you inhale, think, “I receive love from everyone I meet today.”
And when you exhale, think, “I give love to everyone I meet today.”
Simple. Pleasant. Point made.
And honestly, I shouldn’t say it didn’t do much for me.
Because it did remind me that love is a decision—one that is never more than a breath away.
(Also, this meditation also did lull me into a much-needed nap, so I was grateful for that.)
Love > fear,
Christina
Want to know what happens next? Proceed to Chapter 32.
Missed what happened before? Go back to Chapter 30, or start from the beginning.
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