Uncovering Your Greatest Purpose
The first time I heard the three words, "flawed human being," I was sitting in a circle of 23 women in a cramped room with bright fluorescent lights, right in the center of a maximum security federal prison in Texas. I was told I was a "flawed human being" and I was immediately defensive. After all, I had worked hard all my life at not revealing my flaws. Flaws were a sign of weakness, a shameful burden to bear. Yet here I was, in a notorious prison drug program, being forced to face the fact that I was flawed. It wrecked me.
That's when I started to write in a journal. I had to learn about myself. We have all heard that writing is good for us. That writing will bring out healing and creativity. That it will set us free.
Most of us already have journals and some of them have a few words written down too. Our intentions are good. We want to heal. But where do we start?
Why is it so dang hard?
Writing can be daunting and scary for most of us, but have you ever asked yourself why? After all, it's just a piece of paper and an ink pen.
I can tell you why it was hard for me. I was afraid. I didn't admit it at the time, but looking back I know that I was afraid.
Afraid to get too close to the woman I was supposed to be.
Afraid to take responsibility for my choices and mistakes.
Afraid to tap into the parts of myself I didn't like.
The parts that I judged. The parts of me that I didn't want anyone to see.
Did you know that when we judge a person or a behavior, we are actually revealing the way we see ourselves? Our own judgmental attitude is rarely about someone else.
It's almost always about us.
What if we could love people for who they are - as they are - and seek to better understand ourselves? What if we could unlock the secrets about why we do the things we don’t want to do? What if we could accept, and even learn to embrace, our humanity in all of its beauty and flaws? After all, I am a flawed human being. And so are you.
To be clear, I never thought I was perfect. Far from it. I wouldn’t even call myself a perfectionist. So why was it so difficult for me to admit I was flawed?
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The perfect answer to every question we have is inside of us.