Some things have been heavy on my heart this week. Unresolved conflicts with friends. Not showing up the way I’d like in my business. Drinking a little too much rum. It seems like all these old regrets and mistakes are bubbling to the surface.
Every now and then I have these periods of doubt. Of questioning myself about whether I am doing my best. The worries in my head and heart are a bit louder. It’s not as easy to quiet that inner voice telling me I fucked up, or hear that smaller voice telling me it’s okay.
For years I really beat myself up about all the things I didn’t do “right.” My self-judgment was fierce and it didn’t take much ruminating for me to tumble down the rabbit hole of guilt and shame about all the things I’d done wrong, ways I’d hurt someone else or myself.
I don’t want to do that anymore.
This morning I woke up and did yoga, talked to my ancestors, made some tea and journaled on the porch. I thought about the guilt I’ve been feeling and I let it go. I forgave myself. I started over.
And every day I will keep forgiving myself.
Today is a new day. An invitation to heal. An opportunity to do something differently than before, take another shot, and begin again.