Getting attention from the opposite sex is a tried and true way to get my fix. In France, this isn't hard to do. Shall I tell you about the topless sun bathing incident where I was hit on by a lean and muscular 28-year old? My ego loves it. Acknowledgment upswing. But what if I told you about his bad breath and aggressive disposition? Down I go. Value minus ten points.
I've trolled for takers in the market and on the beach. Look elegant. Now demure. Straighten your posture. She scores. A hat trick no less. One lunch proposal. A foot massage from a fireman on the beach and a young warrior-type who loudly declared en français,“You are very beautiful. I love you.” What a circus.
The thing about assigning value based on external factors is that I create false highs and lows, a now-I-feel-it, now-I-don't roller coaster ride that leaves me empty. Still in need. I can't sustain the highs. The candy always runs out. White-knuckled, I hold on tight. Only to fall into a pit of unworthiness to commiserate all that I lack. What goes up, must come down. My pants are too tight. No one wants to read what I'm writing. That cute one didn't even notice me. It isn't true value. It's a self-created soul-shredding grind in which I assign merit based on what I revere and revile.
I'm coming clean with my lower self's habit of using others to subsidize my lack of self-esteem. Containment and self-observation are handy tools. I notice when I get leaky. I focus on the need. Give it the acknowledgment it seeks. Take a closer look and learn about it.
It's a cruel and aggressive process of self-objectification. Shame its guardian. And the need for attention that powers it is breaking my heart wide open. Desperate. It has been calling my name all along. Asking for ME to assign value to it. And so I am. Slowly. Gently. With tears of compassion. I hold it precious and administer to its wounds.
As I nurture this little one home and deprogram its limiting beliefs, I explore what true worthiness is. Surfing my net in meditation. What does it look like? Feel like? I find it's beyond my mind's ability to comprehend. A felt sense. A knowing beyond reason. It is the experience of being valuable beyond measure. Priceless. Unique. And yes, needless of acknowledgment.
Last night I said “Au revoir” (goodbye) to France. I walked along the sea. Merci beaucoup. Thank you. The crickets shook their rattles and the bright pink sun dipped into the Mediterranean. Hot wind warmed my back, pushing me along. A symphony of nature said, “Bon voyage Alexandra. You are loved beyond measure.” It was an acknowledgment like no other. Unsolicited and one of the most meaningful ever.
Evolved recognition of self is a fearless state of celebration; a living-in-action awareness that I am a spark of divine source. In this, there is no need. I am secure in who and what I am. Precious. Perfect. Loved. I'll keep stretching to live my life in this truth as much as I can. With the recognition that my practice of prancing about for scraps of unsustainable attention is dying. All that I need is within and in accessing that I am changing.
I stopped at a fruit stand the other day. Four stocky handsome Frenchman were there too. I sensed their interest. Before my need for validation had a chance to spring, I held it. No. You're not allowed to play with them Missy. Get back into my heart where you belong. You are exclusively mine to love and cherish. Like magic, my need evaporated and so did the men. And the cherries never tasted so good.
