I never truly knew how I felt about myself until I spent six days in silence with complete strangers. It’s the faces you see. They become mirrors of your own ill will towards yourself. You tend to project your inner self hatred onto them. Next thing you know the story in your mind is so fantastic it even comes complete with a lynch mob.
Of course I have no real basis of comparison. For all I know it may be the same if you truly love yourself. I don’t know? I would like to think it is a series of warm loving feelings over and over. Every time someone passes you, another feeling of warm loving kindness. Who knows?
What I do know is, that is what I would like others to experience when they pass me.