Originally, the whole idea of writing out my worst faults and thoughts about myself was to provide a foil for my goodness. I was going to write a list of all the things about me that are good and wonderful and, ultimately walk away celebrating who I am and where I am going.
Except this day, this week, this month, this year it seems I'm having a hard time saying those positive attributes about myself. Not that I'm dwelling on my negatives or don't realize my own goodness, just that speaking what I think is worthy about myself out loud suddenly makes me feel very self-conscious. And uncomfortable.
Ironic, of course, because I'm generally not a self-conscious person. In fact, I would say I tend towards brashness and overconfidence (again, to a fault), not modesty.
Or perhaps I'm learning that I don't need to speak my goodness out loud. I know those things. I don't need to hear them, I don't need to write them because I am them. I am the good as well as the bad. Everyone is, really. We have to have the bad with the good to make up the ying and the yang, the two sides of the coin, the comedy and the tragedy. I can't be one without the other. Together, they make me whole.
I've been reflecting on my list of failings over the last week. I realized, as I read and reread them, that many of these have been my failings for years. They are nothing new. And most of them probably aren't going to change much. I can turn over a new leaf, try harder to be a better person, give up my vices (and I try I will), but the reality is I am who I am. I've spent nearly 30 years becoming this individual and it's unlikely that the next 30 years is going to yield dramatic change to the basic person I am.
So where to from here? How do I reconcile my failings and faults, know they may not change, but continue to strive to be the person whom I wish to be, a person who is better/kinder/stronger/smarter than I am right now?
Perhaps I just do it. I be the better person, choose the harder path and hope that with each passing day, I'll grow, change, stretch into the woman I know I am.