How would you talk about yourself if you knew that you were a piece of god?

Just one tiny piece?

If god is a beam of white light and you a single fragment, a sliver. A single hue in the symphony of the full rainbow,

then how would you talk about yourself?

The roses we praise for their redness,
the violets we acknowledge for the blue,
What would you be romanticizing about the creature that is you?

Lately in my coaching practice I’ve been asking people to celebrate themselves, in ways large or small. And it’s amazing the long practiced resistance I encounter.

I couldn’t talk about myself like that, it would be rude, unbecoming, unattractive.

Even the people I love are sometimes set off by it,

You sound full of yourself, obnoxious.
Who gave you the right?

This is the question that I keep finding underneath it.

Who gave you the right? Who gave you the right to love yourself so much? Who gave you the right to declare yourself worthy of all you desire?

Who took it away from you?

I gave me the right to love myself. And you can give you the right just the same way. It doesn’t have to be so hard. It doesn’t have to be a fight. The only people who benefit from you not loving yourself are advertisers. And that’s not very compelling to me.