I don’t know.
I’m sitting here in front of my computer, and I have no idea what to write. None. There are ideas floating through my head. But none of them feel the least bit appealing. So, honestly, I don’t know.
I remember years ago, how terrifying it used to be for me to say that I didn’t know something. Whenever someone would ask me if I knew something, I’d just pretend I did. And awkwardly nod my way through the interaction rather than admit that I didn’t know something.
I remember when I first started my business. And there was so much that I didn’t know. And I was always terrified of being found out. Of being a fraud. Because I was just figuring this shit out on my own.
I felt like I had to be perfect. Like I had to somehow be the enlightenment king. Because how dare I not know the solution to every single person’s situation? How dare I make mistakes or run out of ideas or just not know something?
As a guy who’s most validated attribute has always been my intelligence, it felt scary to say I didn’t know something. Like I’d somehow be less worthy. Because my “thing” was being challenged. I wasn’t the smart one if I didn’t know something. And, if I wasn’t the smart one, then who was I? Did I matter less? Was I less worthy?
Why are we so convinced that being human makes us worth less? That any hint of imperfection is total annihilation? We protect our perfectionist image with our lives. Because, in some real way, we fear that if we’re found out, if we’re discovered as being imperfect, then we just might die—at least a social death.
I remember last year just before I took Garrett to Italy to propose. I was doing a lot of work with the Value energy in the Sacred Circle (on receiving, self-worth, and my own inherent value). And I remember sitting up on the top of a castle ledge in a park near my home, looking out over the Boston skyline. Listening to Lana del Rey’s “Young and Beautiful.” Asking myself, “Why does Garrett love me? Is it because I’m young or beautiful? Is it because I make a certain amount of money? Is it because I’m smart? Or because I am funny? Where does my worth live?
And then I looked over to this beautiful rose bush nearby. And I thought about the roses. About how stunningly beautiful these roses are. If you cut one off, they just grow back. Because, as beautiful as they are, they’re not where the plant’s worth lives. It’s much, much deeper than the roses. It’s way down into its roots—its connection to the earth and all things. Its Divinity. And the roses are simply a manifestation of that worth.
My youth, my beauty, my money, my work, my intelligence, my sense of humor—these are all roses. Stunningly beautiful roses. But if ever you were to cut one off, it’d just grow back again. Because it’s only a manifestation of my worth. My worth isn’t in any one attribute. It’s in the energetic roots—what we in the Sacred Circle call my Brand Energies—that makes these individual roses possible.
I’m worthy because I am. And I’m smart, funny, and beautiful because I’m worthy. Not the other way around.
So, yeah, I don’t know. I have no fucking idea sometimes. Including today. And I’m okay with that. That’s okay. I’m safe to be human. I’m safe to make mistakes. I’m safe to not always have the answers. Because I’m already worthy. And my worth runs deep.
When we feel worthy, we can develop a sense of trust. Because we know that, even if we don’t have the answers in this moment, we’re good enough and we deserve it. All of it. Whatever we want, even if we don’t know how. And it tends to work itself out perfectly.
So, tell me—what do you think you could create if you felt worthy? How would your life be any different if you saw your worth as in the roots and not just the flowers?
I honestly don’t know. But I can’t wait to find out.
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