Confessions of a Self-Help Addict

My shelves are filled with self-help books. I don't really remember when I started collecting them. I can't remember a time when I wasn't. Everytime we'd enter a bookstore, I'd gravitate towards that section and be lost in it. I would comb the shelves looking for the answers, for that next book that would help me get to... I don't know where. A better me. Each book would reveal the author's wisdom. Each would have some answers. None had it all.

I think that there is truth in all of them but sadly no single book will have all the answers I need. Wouldn't it be much easier to go to the store and buy "An Owner's Manual" written just for you? Instead of piecing together the puzzle with a bit of knowledge gained here and there, wouldn't it be much more efficient to buy one single book. Hopefully that book would be a heavy volume and not a flimsy pamphlet!

Lately I am choosing to believe that I'm pretty ok the way that I am, right now. No improvements required. Yes, I could see the real me more clearly but that's coming slowly now. No amount of self-help guru advice can get me there any faster. I'll get there when I get there. What I have found are words that help me understand and hear my own heart. They help me clear the chatter that goes through me head so that I can listen to that little voice that has been inside all along. Now as long as I am fully present and in this moment, I am awake and ready to hear it.