It has nothing to do with me.
Remember this phrase when the temptation to measure your life, your work, your creativity against someone else’s shows up.
And it will.
No matter what someone else has accomplished, it really has nothing to do with me or you.
Our work is to show up and do our work. Period.
We live in the times of everything being measurable. Quantifiable. Surrounded by so much measuring, it’s way too easy to awaken to a feeling of worthlessness.
We measure. We calculate our own work and worth, in the attempt to see how it compares. We apply those calculations as a way of measuring our value. It is a way, I suppose, of validating our existence. Confirming that we are here, and not just existing but doing better, perhaps, than the next fella.
Intuitively we know that this is not what the plants and animals are doing. I scarcely think a bird is discussing his neighbor’s nest. Wondering how many hours were put into the building of it. I doubt he angsts over whether his net (yes net, not nest 😉 ) worth is greater. Or if he’d be more highly esteemed amongst his peers if only he had a nicer, newer, bigger nest or perhaps if it were painted better.
Same goes for flower conversations. Or rocks. Or trees. Dogs, cats, deer, and bumble bee. This is not how they spend their day.
We look everywhere outside us.
Attempting to set a value on our priceless self,
we forego the interior sweep
which is where the wealth resides.
In our spirit, in our thoughts, in our hearts.
In our love and compassion.
In those moments when our breath is taken away by sudden beauty and hearts made glad by the laughter of a child.
Rich, rich, rich. Wise, wise, wise. Not book smart. Not an education made by man.
But a wealth of divine intelligence placed in us by the ONE that designed us. Each one of us a treasure that can’t be priced. Simply by virtue of our existence, we each matter and are as valued, equally, by the love that made us.
As flowers, bees, birds, cats, trees, rocks, wind and mountains don’t have to prove or assess their value, for they are indeed priceless, neither should we.
We are whole, beautiful, invaluable—as we are. Our love is what binds us as one whole. Just as unimaginable as the earth would be absent of trees and water—so would we be without love.
If we have a price, a value, it is that of love.
The great, one mysterious thing that moves, knits and holds everything in its rightful place.
What a gift to need to be nothing more than we already are.
Love has made us thus and thus we shall walk.
Perfect, priceless…made with love.
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