It’s so easy to slip into a habit of comparing ourselves to others and wondering what in the world is wrong that we can’t seem to get right.

Much more constructive however, to dwell in the place of what’s right, what’s possible although temporarily invisible.

It’s at these times that we need to learn to encourage ourselves.

One of my favorite, well-worn books is The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. She wrote a poem for the end of the book called: Words for It

I wish I could take language

And fold it like cool, moist rags,

I would lay words on your forehead.

I would wrap words on your wrists.

“There, there,” my words would say –

Or something better.

I would ask them to murmur,

“Hush” and “Shhh, it’s alright.”

I wish I could take language

And daub and soothe and cool

Where fever blisters and burns,

Where fever turns yourself against you.

I wish I could take language

And heal the words that were the wounds

You have no names for.

Cameron captures something about ourselves that is so true. Our deepest wounds have no names. And, we can become our own healers of those wounds. By practicing to think about what we have instead of what we are without, by making possibility maps* (coming soon) for ourselves, for remembering the qualities of the ancestors that have walked these paths before us and passed on their assets of adventurousness, of integrity, of appreciation.

Most of all, it’s important to find three things about yourself that are part of your own uniqueness that you can be grateful for. This is where the shift starts.