Last night I spent a lot of time looking at a deluge of memories of things I’ve done that I am ashamed of

I just slashed my finger for the third time this morning. I will have a hard time muscle testing for a bit… Here is what happened:

Last night in bed I spent a lot of time looking at a deluge of memories of things I did that I am ashamed of.

They came, vividly, fast and furious, things I have long forgotten, things I am not proud of.

I resisted the temptation to explain them away, I resisted turning away. I resisted saying they are wrong.

I felt like my students when they say “there is nothing wrong in reality” and they struggle to make it so for themselves emotionally. But I succeeded and I slept long and peacefully… I got all that stuff out of my system.

I didn’t mean to write about it today, but then again: I have to.

Why? Because almost everything that ever happened to us that we call wrong was co-creative: we participated in it to make it wrong. Either by saying: it is wrong, or actually making it wrong.

Yesterday I gave a harsh feedback to two of my students with the hardest soul correction, the soul correction that has only one move: make things, people, wrong.