Bridges

This week I made a foolish mistake.  Instead of letting grown adults take care of their own problems, I decided to use my state-of-the-art bridge  building tools, and build them a bridge. And it all went exactly as I thought I’d hoped.  One side started over the bridge and then the other did the same, tossing misperception and hurt into the burbling river below in exchange for understanding, acknowledgement, and happy.

Like I said, foolish, stupid, misguided, unwise, and just plain dumb.  I sat in my rocking chair and swished back and forth.  Resentment, irritation.  Resentment, irritation. Resentment, irritation. It all seemed so necessary.  Such an easy fix, especially for me, with my thousand and one nights of tools, and people whom I love who felt unloved, unwelcome, and misunderstood.

The only consolation, I remind myself still swishing, is that you haven’t gotten yourself into this fix for a very long time, and obviously, there is still something you must learn here. A lesson that when fully learned will become its own bridge to a new place of freedom and peace.

I try swishing freedom and peace a time or two, and I like it.  I want it.  I commit to forgiving myself which is not easy.  I commit to feeling lovable again.  I commit to be willing to allow people I love to suffer, struggle, fall down, feel pained, misunderstood, mistreated, and unloved without trying to fix it even if I can.  Even if I really, really want to.  Even if it will only take a minute. Even if I have the perfect tool.

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