Home Again

So, I thought I had left you behind, and I was sorry, but when I returned, I realized it was I who had been left. We grow in different directions, yet you all do it together while I must do it alone. It was odd coming back, like watching someone else care for something that once was mine, that once I loved. It was growing, changing one good way after another, and I had missed it. I had missed those changes. It was becoming better yet farther from me. I had selfishly expected it to return to me, but instead had to face the truth that though I may belong to it, it does not belong to me. It may refuse to accept me in its arms agin, if it so wish. It doesn't need me to be what it is, but it is an inseparable part of me.

To what I had wanted to return was a memory of days gone by, a mirage of your former self. I had foolishly assumed that nothing had changed, but in such a short time apart, we had become strangers. What should have been a comfortable slip into familiarity had become an awkward dance of reacquaintance. But, proving it's inevitability, our relationship became clear again.

It is the feel of my favorite worn pair of sneakers. The familiarity of late night drives to clear the mind, empty back roads. It is the comfort of my favorite food and my favorite place. It is the knowledge of when, where, and who I am. It's is my get-a-way, my haven. It was all these things I had forgotten, that I had taken for granted. It is home and I had missed you.

Wounds from Your Perfection

Ow. Ow. OW! I don't wanna sound like I'm complaining or anything, but you're stepping all over my heart, and I'd really like it if you stopped. You're so oblivious to the fact that everything you say, everything you do, adds another crack to my taped together heart. But, I'm not oblivious. I feel every pang as strongly as the first. So please, stop being so perfect and wonderful. I can't compete. Sometimes, I feel like you are the sun and I am the moon, a pale reflection of your brightness. But, even though it hurts, I don't want you to change. I love your warmth, but I wish you would think the moon is beautiful in her paleness, her coldness, her isolation. I wish you could see that she is in love with the sun, though she can only gaze from afar.

Forgiveness

So let's talk forgivenesss. Someone very important to me is struggling with this right now, and I wish there was someting more I could do for them besides sympathize. I wish I could give them the peace that I have. Instead, I would like to tell them what I learned when I was struggling with forgiveness. And, with any luck, maybe it will help or maybe it's something they've already heard before.

But, what I have learned about this so far, as I'm sure I still have much to learn, is that forgiveness truly is an act that sets the giver free. I know that sounds like what they all say, but it is so true. When you finally decide to give it and truly give it, you are free. You lift away all the negative feelings you had about the matter. You get to let go, knowing you've done all you can and that your forgiveness may help the person forgive themselves. You are only hurting yourself by holding a grudge.

Also, I've found that when the transgression is great enough, foregiveness is something you have to work at. It's not something that can be given instantaneously when the emotional cut is deep. It takes a lot of work and time to put yourself in a position to forgive. It's not easy to give because emotions make it so hard to let go of the anger and hurt you feel. Even when you get to the place where you can forgive, it doesn't erase the wrongdoing. You'll always remember it, and so there will come times when you find yourself resenting the person again, times when you have to work for the freedom of forgiveness. Resentment is an ugly beast not easily slain, you will have to fight again and again.

Lastly, I don't think forgiveness absolves the crime. Actions have consequences and some have punishments. Just because someone is forgiven doesn't mean they didn't committ the crime. They are responsible Just because you give someone forgiveness doesn't mean you should continue to subject yourself to suffering at their hands. To me, forgiveness is something done for the future of a relationship. It's recognizing that person's wrongdoing and loving them in spite of it. Maybe your relationship, whatever it may be, breaks because of that wrongdoing, but forgiveness is being ok with that. Loving someone though you had to let them go, keeping hatred for them out of your body. Forgiveness is difficult, but it is worth it.

Here are some who said it better than I:

To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover the prisoner was you.—Unknown

Anger makes you smaller, while forgiveness forces you to grow beyond what you were. --Cherie Carter-Scott

Forgiveness means that you've decided not to let it keep festering inside even if it only comes up once in awhile. --Doc Childre and Howard Martin

Forgiveness is giving up the possibility of a better past. --Unknown

You will know that forgiveness has begun when you recall those who hurt you and feel the power to wish them well. --Lewis B. Smedes

Let's Stop This

I'm not sure, but this dance feels a little dangerous. The atmosphere seems a little volatile. When you're around it feels like emotions could flare any second, our tenuous peace instantly shattered. When you're around, everyone tiptoes,  but it's still not quiet enough for you. It's so weird. Sometimes, I think I get you; I understand you, but in an instant you prove me wrong. Things I thought would appease you actually grind your gears. What is this game we are playing? I don't like it. Tell me the rules, so I have a chance of winning. Oh, you don't know either? Huh. It's like the only rule is: everybody must lose. Why? Why can't you let things go? How can you not follow your own advice? I'm tired of spinning cirlces on this twisted dance floor, always having to apolgize for stepping on your toes. Sorry, I guess my feet just keep growing. I guess your toes will never be safe. Sure, you can stomp off the dance floor, but you are the one losing a dance partner, not me.

Any Advice?

Dear Me,

            Today I am terrified; terrified I will never make it. I will never achieve my dreams. All of the hard work I have done will have been for nothing, destined to leave me with only arduous memories. For a while now, it has felt as if all I’ve been doing is struggling. Struggling to motivate myself, hanging from a cliff by only the smallest strand of faith that I will be able pull myself back to safety, that I will ever be on sure footing again. I am afraid that if I jump and am able to fly that I will awake to find myself crushed by the weighty realization that all my success was just a dream. There are so many things I want to do and people I want to meet, but I am so afraid that once I begin my journey I will make a wrong turn, never realizing that it was wrong. I am afraid I will lose myself in an illusion that I’m making the right decisions to procure the future I so desire. I’m also filled with fear that only after I have achieved what I want, I will discover that it does not fulfill or make me happy, that it was never what I truly wanted. Do I know myself? Will I ever know myself? Is what I think I want now what I will still want in the future? What if I change my mind and that change only throws me to rock bottom? I’m scared, but of what? Am I scared of failing or of succeeding? Can I be afraid of both? It’s paralyzing, this fear. It’s suffocating me, yet I still have room to fear that I will never break its bind. I’m sick of being afraid, yet day after day I continue to stagnate in inaction. I guess I’m not sick enough. Why? If I were to shed my fear, I think I could be amazing. I think I could achieve all I want and more, so why don’t I? Why?  If I was truly honest, I guess I would have to say it’s because though this fear is draining me, it is something I know and can recognize, something familiar. It’s comfortable. It feels like a shield that is protecting me from being duped, from being led astray; it feels like trusty caution. And… now that I think about it, that feeling is of what I should be most wary, mistaking fear for caution. Caution can be helpful, fear never will be. Fear is what holds me back; it is the kiss of death. So, dearest me, my advice today...?