Like last week, I am still reading Martha Beck’s Finding Your Own North Star.  Also like last week, I am still finding it just difficult.  Huge resistance is coming up.  This is despite being on to the seemingly ‘nice’ chapter where you think about good memories rather than the time you humiliated yourself in front of a vast audience (or even just one special person).  I started off all enthusiastic but this ebbed away the moment I reached the exercises…what is that all about?  All I can figure is that I’m scared of what I might find; or more specifically, what I might *not* find.  What if I can’t remember enough joyous moments to fill out the answer space? Ridiculous, I know.  As French novelist Colette observed, ‘What a wonderful life I’ve had! I only wish I’d realised it sooner’.

 

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