All that’s needed for happiness is love for oneself.


In every situation, the answer to the question, “What would be best for me?” is “What would be most loving to me (to both this thing I think I am, as well as the thing I actually am)?”

I think I need to protect myself:

Is it loving to me to scare myself with the thought of an enemy?

I think I need to be more:

Is it loving to me to think of myself as not enough?

I think I need to stock up:

Is it loving to me to tell myself I need to hold onto things and cut myself off from the joy of experiencing the flow of things into and out of my life exactly when they should?

I think I need to be careful what I say and do:

Is it loving to me to hide my true nature from the world? Is it loving to me to tell myself the world would attack or reject me for being what I am?

I think I’m frustrated:

Is it loving to me to snap at myself and at the people I love? Is it loving to me to trouble myself with “shoulds?”

I think the world’s gone mad:

Is it loving to me to tell myself stories of a scary world with mean or stupid people?

I think someone doesn’t like me:

Is it loving to me to believe it’s even possible for someone not to like me?

I think I need to prepare for the worst:

Is it loving to me to tell myself I won’t be okay?

I think I need to adjust myself to sync up with others:

Is it loving to me to tell myself I need others’ love, acceptance, understanding, approval? That these things aren’t always eternally available to me because they come from within?

I think “This sucks.” (or “I suck.”) “I need to make this (or me) better.”:

Is it loving to me to constantly look for faults to improve in myself and others? Is it loving to me to tell myself the world is faulty and it’s up to me to fix it? Is it loving to me to tell myself that what I’m experiencing is not exactly as it should be?

I think “This is going to end badly.”:

Is it loving to tell myself I need to head off disaster? Is it loving to me to tell myself that a disaster is possible?

I think “I need to armor up and fight back.”

Is it loving to me to tell myself I need to protect myself? From what? Is it loving to me to scare myself with stories of an enemy?

I think “I’m falling short.”

Is it loving to me to tell myself I should be anything other than what I am? That I should do more than I do? That I should care more than I care? That I should love more than I love?

I think, “I need more money, more friends, I need to have more impact on the world, I need more status, more appreciation, more customers, more clients, more followers, more press, more likes, more credibility, more understanding.”:

Is it loving to me to tell myself I need anything other than what I have? Is it loving to tell myself that I ever need what don’t I have?

I think I’ve done “wrong” or “poorly.”

Is it loving to me to tell myself that I know better than the benevolent flow of reality what should and should not be, to tell myself that what happened should not have happened? Is it loving to me to put my singular limited perspective in charge of determining “right” and “wrong” for the whole universe?

I think I’m losing at life. 

Is it loving to me to tell myself there’s anything worth winning that I don’t already have? That isn’t already immediately available to me? That it’s possible to ever lose those things?

I think I’m obligated to someone:

Is it loving to me to tell myself to chain my options to some perceived scorecard rather than to my true nature when the universe is always in balance?

I think I owe someone:

Is it loving to me to rob myself of my inherent generosity with a story of obligation? Is it loving to me to tell myself that the world is out of balance unless I do something to balance it?

I think I’m falling behind:

Is it loving to me to mentally place myself anywhere but “right where I’m supposed to be?” Is it loving to me to tell myself there’s such a thing as “behind” or “below” others?

I think I’m sick:

Is it loving to me to judge my body and not support what it’s doing to care for me?

I think I’m injured:

Is it loving to me to judge my body and rush it through the miracle it’s enacting to be exactly what it should be, much less even exist?