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Something Sensitive and Personal

Something Sensitive and Personal


There is no other topic that I talk about in my blogs, more than I do the ‘Ego’. I convey my convictions and interpretations about the Ego because I know that we all struggle and suffer with our often incisively active minds a great deal.

The more we are able to break down and understand how the Ego works, the more I hope you will have a deeper comprehension of the difference between being conscious and unconscious. Our personal identity, our self-esteem, our sense of self-respect and self-confidence rests on how much we are able to separate ourselves from the way our mind speaks to us and how connected we are to our Soul.

This acknowledgment is vitally important in how we live, breath and what we have the courage to stand for in this World. How much personal power we hold for ourself is our biggest and most valuable belonging, in no way should we ever allow anyone or anything, including our own Ego to take control or custody of this greatness within us.

A few days ago I received an anonymous letter in the mail. A typed envelope with my name and address on it, nothing else. Inside was one sheet of paper, one paragraph of typed words. Each word held an incredible amount of negative energy attached to it.

The first time I read the letter I was terribly upset, who would write such a thing to me – my Ego asked? The second time I read the letter I was very angry, someone I know feels this way about me? – my Ego was pushing for revenge. The third time I read the letter I wanted to do everything in my power to find out who wrote it – my Ego wanted me to return the favour.

That night I laid awake obsessing about the words on the paper, my Ego had become like a ravenous beast and it was feeding on my dismay, strengthening all the while as I lay wide awake. Not only was I upset, angry and resentful but I had allowed my Ego to trap me in fear as well (I kept the kitchen light on all night).

The morning after the letter arrived, I read it again for the fourth time. But in this moment I read it differently, as I scanned each and every word I asked my Ego to keep quiet and I quietly asked my Soul to bring me back to where I belonged.

The place in me that was able to look past the words on the paper and into the Soul of the person who wrote it. Immediately I felt what always feels like home to me, compassion. I read the letter again one more time, but this time I felt the pain of the person that had taken the time to write it.

The need to know, the need to repay the favour, the need to be afraid of the dark and the need for revenge was gone. I lite a match and watched the letter burn and as it turned to cinder I asked the Universe to send compassion to the person who was holding onto such terrible anger, because I want them to be able to ‘let go’ and make peace inside of themselves, with me.

The same peace that I am able to make with them.