Am I doing this for attention?
I retired in 2013 and set the intention to step out of the starlight and into everyday ordinariness. I no longer want to be the leader. I want to be one of the group. Now it’s 2022 and that still hasn’t happened, although my attendance at a recent Unity Convention felt like I might be getting close.
I noticed during the convention that I felt ordinary, sometimes invisible, and it was sweet. I was not a star, and I noticed how much fun I was having encouraging the stars I knew and the ones I met for the first time. It was an extraordinarily five days.
The day after arriving home I ended up in the hospital and was given a healing opportunity in which I asked my inner Self, “Am I doing this for attention?” The reply was a memory of a moment from my little-girl life.
When I was in first grade, I and my brother had our tonsil’s removed. In 1952 they had us stay in the hospital ward for a week to recover. We had a blast.
When I returned home, there was a brown paper grocery sack filled with get-well cards from my classmates. As I brought this memory to my present moment I could feel the excitement of receiving such a gift.
I could smell the construction paper and crayons. The paper sack was taller than me as I sat in the middle of the bed, pulling the cards out one by one. Mom read every one of them to me and in the end there was a tall stack of cards that my classmates had made - just for me.
At that time in my life I didn’t think anyone knew who I was, I didn’t have any friends then, yet I had become a star! I never ever felt so loved.
I never ever felt so loved being in the hospital, and my little-girl self took this to mean that being the center of attention was being loved.
In our very young years we are imprinted cellularly by strong emotions and traumas. We carry them with us for the rest of our lives until they are loved enough to allow them the sacred space to have their voice.
I was 5 years old when I decided that being a star was being loved. I was 75 as my little girl and I spent time together in the hospital bed of that now moment. I loved her enough that she was finally able to let go and know she doesn’t have to be a star to get love, she is Love. It was later that the puzzle pieces fell into place. Perhaps now I’ll be able to step into the ordinariness I’ve so longed for.
Lovenough, katherine