lost touch and disconnected

It has taken weeks for me to sit in this chair and find my blog voice and then ofcourse I couldn't find my blog page or password or log in or interpret those silly screwed up letters that pop up or in any way shape or form contribute to my own blog. When I began this little adventure in the bloggers world I had an sneaky suspicion that I would occasionally neglect to sign in, that my confidence in believing that I had anything worthwhile to write about would wax and wane. With what ease and truly alarming regularity the critical ego demon could persuade me that I had nothing to say. Nothing to say? There is always something to say.  What does this demon look like, what form does she take? I know that she changes shape she increases and diminishes and she enjoys taking the form of a dragon. She has sharp claws that dig into my shoulder and she has a seductive sweet reasonable voice, she is I me myself my ego my shadow my critic and she is persuasive and she is always right. There will always be aspects of ourselves that we dislike that we hate that prevent us from living well and recognising or celebrating our goodness. The 'I am rubbish soup' we can stir and pick bits out to look at in more detail. The 'I should have done that better or differently' bits, regretting, reinventing the past, inventing other scenarios, other outcomes.So hard to include all of ourselves in our vision of ourselves, so hard to accept that it is all of these imperfections and perfections that we can call me. Too easy to hate and so tough to love.