All of my books are in boxes right now (yes, we’re moving… again), but I wish I could show you a photo of the ‘self-help’ section of my library. Oh, wait, here’s an old photo from the library in my house…
Okay, fine… I’m just kidding. But it’s scary how close it is in volume (minus the frescoes, statues, and everything nice in the above picture).
Let’s just say it’s insane. I’ve been deep in this subject matter. My underlying MO has long been quality of life. I experienced a ton of limitation and fear early in my days, which probably set me on the accelerated direction of striving to live well (whatever that means).
I’ve spent many a late night perusing through those books looking for answers. Some answers, I found. They really helped me.
But I had to keep it up. I felt I had to keep my head stocked with the good stuff to keep from backsliding into the subconscious wayward grooves of my elders.
Now that I look back, I see how backwards I got it.
See, I used to believe that my innate self was tainted. I saw so many relatives go the wrong direction in a big way. I believed that I was bound for the same if I didn’t manipulate and mold my mind in a more positive, life-affirming direction.
I believed it was up to me and I had to work my brain off to keep on the up and up.
Although I think it did help (if not save me) and I wouldn’t trade those nights of self inquiry for anything, I now I see how wrong my intentions behind it were.
These last couple years, I’ve adopted a different understanding. One that would have made my life a lot more… easeful — had I realized it.
Mental wellbeing is innate.
This means my relatives weren’t doing what they did innately. They piled on a bunch of nonsense between themselves and their innate wellbeing.
Our wellbeing isn’t up to us. It’s already there. My daughter was born with immediate access to it. As were you and I.
All we can do is move away from it. We can pile on thoughts that stand between us and it. But these thoughts are not like physical boxes that we have to grunt and sweat and cut our hands to load up and carry away. They’re just thought. Made of energy. Like cosmic dust. When we see them for what they are, they easily disappear.
And we’re back home.
Our wellbeing isn’t up to us to go out and fight for. To work for.
All that’s up to us is to not stray too far from it. And to know it’s never more than a thought away.