The man and his wife heard the sound of God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and they hid from God among the trees of the garden.
But God called to the man, “Where are you?”
He answered, “I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid.”
And the Lord God said, “Who told you that you were naked?”
Haven’t I told you
Don’t run away from me
You’ll find me like a fountainhead
Wherever you go in this mirage
Even if you leave me
With anger for a hundred thousand years
You’ll finally return
Since i’m your final home
Haven’t I told you
Don’t be fooled with
The spangles in life
I’m your final fulfillment
–Rumi, “Haven’t I Told You” | The Book of Love: Poems of Ecstasy and Longing
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world [...] And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
–Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of “A Course in Miracles”
Who told you that you were inadequate?
That your desires were sickening?
That your ambitions were trite?
That your needs were un-meetable?
That love only comes when you do something right?
Who told you that your eyelids weren’t worthy of framing your vision?
To pour bleach in the bathtub to lighten your skin?
That your legs were monstrous, instead of miracles in motion?
That the gap between your teeth warranted anything but awe?
Who tore up your trust?
Who extinguished your faith?
Who duped you into thinking that you are not stardust?
Who filled your head with this crushing cacophony?
Who led you away from your center, your light?
Who groomed you for fear, and silence, and shame?
Who’s stopping you, now?
This is your game.