If there's something wrong with you , you deprive yourself of feeling at home within your world. Home is a place where everyone is recognized and loved. Where everyone has the right to be in their own form and attitude. A place, all the elements of which: people, animals, and things, are convex, voluminous and, as it were, “registered” in the microcosm of this small universe. And the grandmother in a dress, the front of which is longer than the back; and a cracked spoon rest; and a cat quietly shitting under the sofa; and a brand new alarm clock with winding bells, and everyone else and everything else has an equal opportunity to exist here. They can stick out from the required volume, get in the way, plague them with inconsistencies, but no one questions their right to stay at home. The meridians of people living side by side, and the objects, things and things that accompany them are so intertwined that the loss of even the slightest detail creates a feeling of loss. Not because it was very important, maybe you didn’t even use it, but it was there, it occupied space and view and in some strange way balanced the house, introducing its own unique color. In a house there may, of course, be disagreement between its inhabitants, as well as diversity of family members or unrest in the atmosphere; but it wouldn’t occur to anyone to throw someone out the door, to pretend that he doesn’t exist, or, worse, to greet every day with a tirade about how they hate him and dream of him being gone. But that’s exactly what he does. a person who does not accept any of the natural manifestations in himself. Despising criticism or softness, helpfulness or hot temper, isolation or, on the contrary, nakedness of the soul; in a word, having chosen one particularly irritating trait among his scattering of features, a person is inclined to try to get rid of it by any means, from simple denial to cynical self-ridicule. It should be noted that people are very inventive in uprooting inclinations that have fallen into disgrace. Someone rapes himself with endless training on remaking himself into a non-self, someone shows hatred for part of his self, conducting monologues after the next unsuccessful performance of the “devil” on the topic “What an idiot I am or what a fool I am.” Some manage to convince themselves that they cannot have “this”, and therefore “no”. But the majority simply do nothing about it, silently despondently despising the property they have inherited from nature or from life. By “writing out” in one way or another a disliked trait from their inner temple, a person ceases to be whole. And no matter how much he tries after this to feel at home inside his world, this usually does not happen. Of course, after declaring getting rid of a part of yourself, you cannot actually destroy it; As long as your psyche exists, all its sides exist. Getting rid of them can only happen at the moment when you all leave this world, taking with you all your manifestations. Until that time, banished to the outskirts of your soul, littered with junk, a small part of you will sing its melancholy song as an outcast, and even if you learn to turn off your inner hearing so as not to hear mental pain, you will always be missing something. Something that was not so important and maybe not very useful, but without it your soul stepped from the daring fullness of life towards emasculated sterility, making your appearance more ethical, and your inner home more dead... When you next want to get rid of a part of yourself, imagine that it is your child to whom you say something like: “Sorry, baby. But my boss doesn’t like you, or you distract me on a date, or it’s hard for me to do work with you, so I’m getting rid of you.” Imagine this, and maybe your attitude towards yourself will change, and your inner home will not be empty this time…