(the picture? That’s my Memorial Day Maxedon margarita, I just thought you needed to see it.)
Why is it so difficult to just leave shit alone?
Not literal shit, obviously. That stuff is gross and sticky and sometimes white. I remember marveling over white dogshit when I was a kid.
One day I’ll learn to stop going back and clarifying myself, and I’ll just let you all think what you will. It’ll probably save everyone some embarrassment since I tend to ramble.
ANYWAY. I had every intention of trying to be provocative.
My point is this: shit happens. It does. It happens and it sucks and yet why do we have to revisit the hurt?
I have hurt people in my life. I think about it every day.
I have been hurt by people in my life. I think about that every day.
I don’t try to do either of those, they just happen.
Of course if I made a conscious decision to think about hurtful things less, then I’d spend so much time thinking about not thinking about things that I’d finally look around and realize that my kids had all graduated and my teeth needed to be brushed.
And what would that accomplish?
It does us no good to wallow in pain and to grasp onto hurt. Yet I know that it’s just exactly what I often do.
I really can’t decide why. I’ve thought about it and maybe it’s because in feeling legitimate hurt, maybe it’s a safe place? Maybe there’s something to be said for keeping hold onto a pain that you are justified in feeling because that takes away the work of moving on.
I don’t want to wallow. I don’t want to be the wallower and I don’t want to be the cause of wallowing.
I suppose I’m saying that I want, from here on out, to live my life day to day. I want to forget hurt and remember healing. Love. There’s no point in hurting myself or anyone else.
Progress begins today, and I will learn to let be what has been.