Sometimes we get down. Not in the fun way. Sometimes we start out strong, a few things don’t go our way, and we crash.
My bride reminded me of a secret I learned a little while ago–that smiling tricks the body, the voice, and the mind. By projecting happiness into the world, we take it back in. Our spirits are fascinating engines capable of producing our own fuel.
First time sharing a poem and not giving it a title. I’d love to hear your thoughts, ideas, or suggestions. Let me know what you think it should be called in the comments below!
Been thinking on the nature of forgiveness and resentment this morning. Consider the act of simply letting go something that frustrates you or a wrong that has been done. Simple right? Easy, not so much. How does one actually perform the act of release? It’s a choice but is that the end of it? I don’t think so. I think forgiveness is a continuous series of choices, or perhaps a single choice set on repeat, that is at worst set to an eternal repeat.
Failure to make the choice, however often it needs to be made, results in holding tight to something. Something that might give you power. Something that might burn you from the inside out. Something that might turn toxic and burn people it’s not intended for.
I was asked the other day if I EVER got mad or angry. I do. Only I do one of two things with it. I let it go right away. Or I hold onto it, or a part of it, and bury it deep, where it slowly accumulates like a landfill until it spills over in passive aggressive acts or an unfounded explosion. Probably oversharing here. Just processing this habit of mine, contemplating the effects, and how to prevent it from happening or finding an appropriate outlet.
There is nothing so frustrating as being presented with the opportunity to do what you love, to create something amazing, and finding yourself distracted or frustrated at every turn by countless little things that build up and go wrong until you finally just want to explode. Did not get done everything I wanted to today and pouring my frustration out here. Melodramatic? Probably. Mildly beneficial? Oh yes. Now, if only I didn’t feel like this poem is terrible. Oh well, revisit and revise, right?
The Everyday Poet 