The fallacy of forgiveness is that when we seek it, that action alone is equal to redemption.
Writing every day for 120 days is all right. It’s not a burden, but it does require clarity. Sometimes the fog settles in. It has this week. Outside it’s soupy,…
I think December makes me acutely aware of that from which I feel trapped. It’s place in the evolution of the calendar year nudges us to look back and forward. Both directions bear weight.
I decided before I even went to sleep what I would write this morning. Though I have listened to the song a hundred times, it struck a chord. “I never thought I could fail”.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Her mother was supposed to be with him, but he drove her away for years. And this year she finally left. Sad and heartbroken,…
“I’m rubber you’re glue, whatever you say, bounces off of me and sticks to you.”
Milestones are ours to make, define, and delineate which are meaningful and meaningless. Mystery riddles most milestones, many of which we never unearth.
It took me a while to claim this room, this space. And I wonder why it took so long? Because time heals all wounds. That’s the mystery of love.
At face value, when I read this step some months ago, I thought, yep, I did that. This week I remembered why and how and where I was when I took this step. And why the first step is always the hardest.
I felt like I was fire dancing between earth and water, grounded nowhere, fueled by both, and extinguished inside.
That’s a big step! It requires honesty, humility, vulnerability and everything else in between. When we are in crisis we viscerally tamp down all of those things, every moment of the day to carry on a life with the appearance that we have our shit together.
The movie disturbed me for days after. It was chilling. I felt that grief and anger watching Three Billboards yesterday with Bridget, and without saying it out loud, the thought “My God I pray that I die before you” was omnipresent. I touched her knee, physically connecting myself to her, looking at her, reminding her that she is a part of me.
I smiled. We all smiled. The other three agreed. In unison, oh yeh, he was my favorite, too. They went on and on, and I told the story of my regret, and how I just found pictures and a letter of and from him, and yes, I admitted I had thought of him, both recently, and often.
My opening quote struck a chord with me this morning because when I read it I didn’t think of myself at first, I thought of two women who I shared the evening with last night. I think they are both courageous.
We are always told to “Put yourself in their shoes” or “Walk a mile in their shoes” or some other iteration. And I have tried over the years to do just that. I recall sitting in court at 26th and California, listening to the public defender plea with the judge or jury as a death penalty was considered and begging for forgiveness. Those moments almost always made me think about how we choose our paths, and ultimately how our environments contribute to our behavior.