Tending To The Soil Of You



I was thinking about something today as I was meditating. We’re all so used to feeling harangued by the pressures of our hyper-connected daily lives that peace of mind sometimes seems like a simulation, which is why we’re all, secretly or openly, terrified of solitude; of self-excavation, oftentimes dismissing the notion as needless navel-gazing. But there’s tremendous value in trying to figure out what makes us tick beyond the matrix of our cultural, economic or social parameters.


Do you feel an interior lack that can’t be quelled by money or sex or medicine or even love? And, if so, what do you do in the face of this interior lack? Do you rage against it? Do you resist, resist, resist until you’ve burnt yourself inside out? What do you do in the face of such psychic self-immolation?


That’s when a voice in your head, which is really your consciousness or your higher self, simply asks:


When were you first told that you have no value, and when did that torment calcify into the deepest truths you hold about yourself? When did you first break? How did you piece yourself back together? What was the point when you realized that you had to dig out all your roots, and tend to the soil of you, which is to say, the softest, sweetest part of your essence?


You’re a human being and your value is unquantifiable. Remind yourself of this fact at every opportunity. Remind yourself of this fact because we’re human beings, and sometimes we tend to forget such valuable information.



Image by DIRIYE OSMAN and STEVE BRIGHT