The bumblebee to the left does not feel unworthy of the pollen it needs to survive, and this carefree attitude spreads throughout the animal kingdom. Robins don’t struggle over whether they deserve the juicy worm. A lioness doesn’t stalk a choice wildebeest and then give up the chase, because she feels unworthy of dinner that night. It is only at the top of the food chain where we consider our worth before acquiring what we need. In fact, we compound the problem by evaluating ourselves and then evaluating the need itself.
Raising consciousness on the planet means that we are facing ourselves like never before, and this worth issue is being magnified like never before. It’s visible in the old and very young. Not dealing with it leads to depression, addiction, violence, and even poverty. To use a gardening term, it is a dampening off of our species. It has kept generations from reaching the fullness of their heart’s potential, but the point is not to defend or disbelieve. It is to recognize the pathogen that stunts our growth.
Worth work begins when we identify what emotions we aren’t allowing to land. We become air traffic controllers for the sunlight, the rain, the fertilizer. Forgive me for getting out of hand with the garden metaphors. You might know the former as love, respect, validation, safety, and contentment. In our private worlds we become so efficient at gatekeeping that we do it on auto-pilot. We swat away what we need with no effort at all and without the awareness that we’re doing it.
The honest look that leads to progress gets scary. Conscious living means stepping through the muck of our own constructs. You would think when the things we need get close to us, we would relax. It would feel easy and good. Not so fast. It’s like the hands of God tearing away your root ball so you are no longer pot-bound. Do you see here how your foundation was growing in a big circle again, and again, and again?
We don’t have to force an angst-filled upheaval to make positive changes. With a spoonful of initiative, and maybe some confiding in a good friend, we can flip a switch. We can flip the whole of our suffering right on its ass. This is possible because the construct of our worthlessness wasn’t made by other people. We made it. We planted it and watered it. Opening up to tearing it out can work wonders. You see, our constructs are not sturdy pillars. They are Twizzlers that we treat like 3,000-year-old trees. It can take a trusted pal to point out a new perspective.
My favorite part of Oh, Holy Night is the mention of the soul feeling its worth. A weary world rejoiced, because it is exhausting and binding to feel worthless. It’s easy to say, “I don’t feel worthless,” but look at your life. See where things are moving as well as you’d prefer.
I’m trying this with myself, and it’s a simple exercise that changes the feeling in your entire body. I want to be a published author, but that goal is lofty. I tell myself I don’t write fast enough. I don’t have the advances so many writers had to live from in days of yore. I tell myself if I self publish, how will I ever find the time to market it? With every proclamation I seem less worthy of being on the Best-Seller’s list. My new trick is to tell myself: You already have a best-seller. I’ve written it, and thousands and thousands of people have it on their nightstands. A strange comfort fills my heart and moves out toward my extremities. I did it once, and I can do it again. There is no fear, and I feel worthy. I can write from this place, this consciousness, far easier than the former.
What can you tell yourself to make that shift and remove the weight of worthlessness?
- Everybody loves me. (Even if this isn’t the case, it’s worth it to take that worry from your mind.)
- I’ve tackled my finances.
- I make an impact when I do what I love.
- What I have to give the world fills a need.
- I’m partly responsible for the respect, love, validation, gratitude, etc. I don’t feel, and that is due to what I believe and tell myself.