Dates on the calendar can be such emotional triggers, can’t they?
Now that I FEEL my feelings rather than stuffing them into a dark crevice of my soul to be more easily ignored, I “get gotten” regularly.
Instead of skipping along in merry oblivion, life and its memories stop me dead in my tracks and instead of plowing through, I stop. And I feel those feelings, as messy and soppy as they may be.
A “memorial day” of sorts just passed; it would have been my 15th wedding anniversary. I know, I’ve mentioned it before, but for an entire week I felt like I was walking through emotional quicksand.
Another is right around the corner: The one year anniversary of when I left.
Every memory can be weighed on a scale, balancing all of the reasons why and, alternately, why not.
Ask ten other people to view the same set of circumstances and their judgments rendered will run the gamut. They bring their own biases and projections as they view the evidence, which is why I am not a fan of judging.
To one observer, we are heroines of our own stories.
In other versions, we are the villains.
Some days, I see myself as both.
Because I am well aware of my imperfections. And I refuse to try to pretend that I am without fault (though I became QUITE adept at pretending happiness and have since given that up for good.)
Someone recently chastised me – not intending cruelty – but these words plucked at my heart: “You could have done it differently.” (This was in reference to how I left my marriage.)
My reply? Yes, perhaps I could. But at the time, I couldn’t see any other way.
And maybe it WAS the only way.
None of us will ever know because it went down as it did and it can’t be undone.
Which leads me to another “memorial day.”
September 9th marks the day I finally let go of all of the trappings of pretension; looked my soul square in my heart and said, “I love you.”
Yep, I am aware of all of my stuff – the good, the bad, and the ugly.
And I love you.
I forgive you.
Now let’s get on with this thing called life and start feeling again, start living again, and let love start winning.
Our word these past two weeks has been flexibility, and sometimes it is painful to dislodge from our fixed position of how we see things. Or to entertain someone else’s view of the choices made.
I can see your point of view. Perhaps it could have been done differently.
These close encounters of the heart are all part of the bumps and bruises of life. From my current vantage point, I believe a life unmarred by such wounds reflects a life not fully lived.
I could have died, long before my physical death, by not rocking the boat. And I could have existed the rest of my days without really living, only to get to the end of it all and find I missed the point.
May I always be flexible enough to admit when I’m wrong. To leave – anything – when it is time to move on. To own up and apologize, but most of all and always, to forgive. Everyone. And especially, me.
After all, I’m the ONE person I’m definitely stuck with for the rest of my life. So I might as well make it a love affair!
And I hope you will, too.
On a lighter note, some less profound matters can easily make us anguished, irritable, emotional, and altogether flummoxed. I talk about them in these closing thoughts on FLEXIBILITY (and ushering in a new WOW):
Ah, finding joy in the right here, right now.
Wishing you all boatloads of contentment these coming two weeks!
(And Happy Memorial Day Weekend.)