Serenity

About a week ago, for a half hour, I was at peace. There was no stress, no anxiety, no anger, no neediness. I was, well, okay with myself in an odd, perfect sort of way.

It had been a strange week. I'd found myself in the middle of arguments between Christians and non-Christians, attempting to be a voice of reason. It was my Truth Reflex, kicking in again, and I was working to tell people on both sides of the dispute that, the people they were arguing with were better people than they presumed they were. Most people, it turns out, are terrible salespeople for their beliefs, mainly because they understand their positions to be self-evident to the point that any properly rational, discerning or ethical person should come to understand them as the Truth, and therefore, failure to come around marks one as inappropriately irrational, gullible or deliberately Evil. And apparently, arguing that rational, discerning or ethical people can disagree on such things is also grounds for being lumped in with the silly, foolish and wicked.

I pushed back against my irritation at being characterized thus by reminding myself that I was always entitled to my own positive self-regard, even if everything that they said about me, and more besides, was true. So what if I was irrational, gullible and/or unethical? Why should I internalize their requirements to see myself as worthy? I heard the voices of my Inner Critic, and, prehaps for the first time in my life, rather than running away from or fighting back against the judgments its voices leveled at me, I embraced them. I recognized that those judgments were a part of me, but they were not me.

And for thirty beautifully peaceful, serene minutes, it worked.

I knew at the time that it would not last, and I did not attempt to cling to it, instead focusing on staying in the moment, and letting it run its course. What was done once can be done again, and desire runs counter to self-acceptance. I know now that I have done it, and that, for now, is enough.