576. Owning

I have to find a new story for myself.

I am supposed to be old enough, mature enough and have survived enough to tell myself that my worth currently is not measured in how much money I make, where I live and how much I own.

I already decided that did not matter when I was 21 or thereabouts, and then promptly forgot in the years later.

What gives?

Indoctrination from the social sea? And I didn’t see it coming (pun intended)?

The real need right now for money to pay bills and more space for the three of us, etc.?

Why is that berating voice churning in my head, after all I have seen,  suffered and realized about life and everything?

After all the indications that I Should Be Better?

Why is that voice there, saying all through the day:

‘You are not good enough.

‘You did not get a job.

‘You did not get savings.

‘You did not get pension.

‘You did not get a house.

‘You did not get other normal stuff that people your age have.

‘You did not realize your skills, life purpose or much of value to anyone but your nearest family.

‘And these judgments are more important than everything you did – everything you did realize – everything you did value – everything.’

Normally I would be tempted to make some kind of statement and then embark on a rigorous mental training to get the voice to shut up once and for all.

And forget my shame about it quickly.

But maybe that is not enough this time. Not courageous enough, I mean.

Maybe I have to dare own it first.