The Power of the Words "I Am"

The Power of the Words “I Am”
By Z Zoccolante

This week I’ve been reading a book that reminded me once again that our words have power. As someone in the psychology/recovery field I know that the things we say to ourselves become the most important voice we will hear because it’s with us the most.

Most of us have an unkind, critical voice that tells us when we aren’t living up to our standard or someone else’s. Over the years I have learned to give power to the softer, kinder voice – the one that speaks to me with love and encourages me when I’m not at my best.

This voice is the voice that we build during recovery, or whenever we have had enough of being harsh dictators to ourselves. This is the voice that says I am (all the lovely, wonderful things I am and will grow into becoming).

In the Bible God says, “I AM” and uses it as His name. These words have power and whatever we put behind them can either build us up or chip away at us. When you talk to yourself say great things after those words. Claim those words for yourself. I have friends who say, “I am a child of God. I am strong. I am worthy. I am free. I am smart. I am good.” … Whatever you say behind them make sure those words build you up.

Here’s a little free write exercise I’ll share with you guys that I did for myself while journaling this week.

I am joy, love, happiness, health, beauty, kindness, play, adventure, gratitude, magic, creativity, laughter.

I am the wind through my hair, the sand through my toes, salt crystals drying on my tan skin after a long day at the beach. I am a field staring at the sky from my pocket of earth. I am fire and smores and crab hunting. I am a sky full of stars.

I am the cliffs overlooking the ocean where you go to hide and be seen by the soul of the world. I am heartbeats and oceans and deep black holes. I am belly laughs and warm chocolate chip cookies and red laminate countertops. I am baking cookies with my mom. I am Psalty tapes and play dough and little summer forts made of sticks. I am forever young. I am grape slushies and rollerblades and baskets of lychee. I am sinkfuls of mango my dad shaves with a pear knife.

I am paint-and-swirl and books read on the couch. I am blanket rides and Friday night movies with TV trays. I am the small wooden sign with the bear hanging by my bed that says kindness matters. I am electric kisses under telephone poles and marriage vows by the ocean and laughing till you cry. I am all the love that will fit in your heart and then the overflow.

I am colored crayons and origami and construction paper. I am Christmas lights on the ceiling at night. I am conversations drifting through the slats in my door. I am Elvis Presley on the boom box, and roast beef sandwiches with pickles on the side, and nerf wars in the living room. I am bike rides and clickety colored spokes on my tires.

I am the tiles on the swimming pool floor in a straight line reflecting my face. I am my hair like seaweed all around me. I am the light on the surface in dancing prisms. I am the tip-top of the swing as my belly falls through the air in a pendulum swoop. I am the moment of suspended animation before everything comes alive. I am carrot sticks and plastic waxy cups and mud between my toes. I am a night of stars.

I am tipped upside down watching the harbor as boat masts hang from the sky. I am warm, liquid sun. I am the joy of feeding fish crackers off the dock, hungry mouths, piles of friends. I am a tiny rat paw held against my thumb, soft pads of fingerprints, touches of love and care. I am held. I am shapeshifting like the moon.

I am the wind through my hair, the feeling of sand slipping through my fingers. I am electric pulse. I am the beginning.

I Am. . .

I AM