"The giving of love is an education in itself." - Eleanor Roosevelt

Thanks to Louise L. Hay, I can tell myself, "I love you, Sheela," and not flinch. Too much. In the beginning, I looked into my own eyes staring back at me from the mirror, and I literally felt the self hate coming toward me. I had to sit down and consider just why I hated myself so?

But after telling myself "I love you, Sheela. I really do," those feelings have shifted, evaporated, and are not the ocean they once were, but instead a lake, a manageable lake, being drained.

Being able to give love to one's self is as good as it gets. If you aren't in love with yourself, you won't be able to love anyone else. Now that I can see myself as a loving person, other changes have begun. I am giving on several levels and letting go of the terror of fear and worry. Even as I just typed those words, I found myself starting to chew on a fingernail (or what is left of one).

It goes deep this notion of self hatred.

"It's all about love," my father told me the morning after he passed. So why should I separate myself from love and enter into the land of fear, so far from the light and depth of love?

It seems to be an Earthly problem. I read that we leave stress when we die. Time to die now. Time to live because I do love you, Sheela. I really do.

Giving me this, I know I will succeed and give back.