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Note: Shrinkage is not gender-specific, and it’s not limited to body size.

Anyone who has ever tried to take up as little space as possible with his belongings, for example, knows this shrinkage problem.

Anyone who has shrunken her personality to suit the comfort of others.  Each smothered laugh shrinks the space she takes up. Every careful step lessens her sound wave ripples.

Heck, I wonder if hoarding is both defiantly taking up space while crushing the person smaller to minimize the space s/he takes up….

you think you are not enough

This was posted as a quote on Facebook.  I have displayed it as a poem, emphasizing where the words sang for me.
It’s from Shiloh Sophia, an inspired writer and artist.

You think You are not enough
and so that what you do

Is never enough.

I think the story “I am not enough” is a lie.

And I am wondering why we,
intelligent lovely brave souls that we are
would go on believing a lie?

And so today
is a day for miracles
and the shedding of old stories and

I am wondering
who is ready to shed that one?

Or another one?
Ready. Set. Go.

When you are done with that
you can join me in inventing a new story.

One where we choose ourselves
right where we are.


And choose to tell the truth
about ourselves to ourselves and others.

The truth is
we are more wonderful than we can imagine

and it is nothing short of a miracle
that we were born.

We have lived long enough thinking not enough
is a way of being.

It’s not.

A way of being
is to love the fragile
sometimes broken
confused and still
self that we are.

A way of being
is to re-invent
from this moment
a story about who we are

that we love to tell.
~ Shiloh Sophia

Maybe this thinking that we’re not enough is what makes us feel insignificant when others don’t notice our contributions.  It shouldn’t matter if anyone notices, not if we know what we’re doing is important.

I’m buried in the chalkdust of this lesson.  I don’t like it.
It’s hard, learning that there’s a strong chance that what I do will go unnoticed.
It’s hard, too, being asked for more.

A way of being
is to love the fragile
sometimes broken
confused and still
self that we are.

Love our fragile, broken selves, and see the beauty
–so we can see others’ beauty, too, and know that what we do is significant, even if it remains unacknowledged.

Funny how my own ego prevents me from loving myself properly.
Time to work on that new story….