self-contempt

What a shock it is to trace back problems social, spiritual, emotional, occupational, or otherwise in and around me, (with myself and others) all the way back to self-contempt. That, or pride, which is rather the a kind of funhouse mirror image are really the main things going on. Both are sin, if you will. The type that is both human (and not making us worthless) but unavoidable, brokenness that cries out to be whole and remedied, and, of course, one always hopes, forgiven. One wants to be spared, even from one's self, if possible, sometimes. But I don't know if we realize this "why" of how we suffer silently, or very loudly, or drag others into our perils and haunts. This odd barb of contempt is just under the skin, but with little, or big, veins into the deep of us, the muscle of our hearts, sometimes hurting and squeezing us.

So, I wonder at the hugeness of it sometimes. The cloud of it, and it's great undoing. I push breathlessly against it, if truth be told, far too much than I have been aware. And much more than I wish too. And I am beginning a journey to untie knots, even if my fingers callous and bleed.