Today I was thinking about how we sometimes get in our own way and refuse to just take one for the team (or ourselves) and we lose to win. This short musing came from that…prompt. Please enjoy.
The Hardest Word by René Guerrero
I remember when I was a kid, and I would fall and take the skin off of my knee or shin, and I would cry. I was so sure that the pain would never end and I would be maimed forever. Yes, I was a crier. Shocking, I know. Today, while I was in the shower, I looked at my knee and my shin at the site of those bloody battles, and I could not see any sign of that devastation and the disfigurement that I was sure would last a lifetime. I have long since stopped crying about it. In fact, truth be told, I was pretty easily distracted, and a simple “Sana Sana” and a little attention from my mom could fix just about anything.
I remember when I was a teen and I would fall in love, sometimes weekly, and I would have my heart broken from the unrequited youthful emotional devastation. I would cry. I was sure that the pain would never end and I would be alone forever. Yep, still a crier. Today, I stand so deeply in love, looking back at the young man who was sure his heart would never love again and was destined for solitude and loneliness. I do not see any signs of the devastation and hardening of the heart that I feared. I have long since stopped crying about it. In fact, truth be told, I was pretty easily distracted in those days, a simple smile and a little attention from, well, anyone could fix my broken heart.
I remember as an adult, waging secret wars for a variety of reasons on a variety of people. Feeling justified in the protection of my dignity, my integrity, and my right to be right at any cost. I cry. I mourn the loss of time, of friendship, of family. I mourn the resilience of my younger self, who should have learned that the pain and discomfort are temporary. In fact, truth be told, I get stuck. I know healing is possible. I know it is not always personal, and I know sorry seems to be the hardest word, but I am frozen in regret, fear and anger. Why can’t I fix it with a Sana Sana, a kiss and time?
I have experienced several losses in the recent past, and this idea of healing, resilience, forgiveness, taking a higher path, and well, time has been forward in my mind. Wasted time, Wasted days, months, years. I am also mindful of the collateral loss of time and relationship and happiness. Punishing myself by avoiding groups, events, missing milestones, so I don’t see this person or that person. But who is really missing out? Who is being hurt? Rehashing old resentments or frankly making up new ones beause I don’t even really remember why it started in the first place. So am I just mad that I am mad? Am I mad that they are not hurting the way I am hurting? Am I mad they don’t miss me that way I miss them? don’t love me the way I love them? Am I mad they they don’t care enough to say I am sorry and take responsibility for their actions?
Mostly, I am mad at myself for just not understanding that “they” are “me”. I am afraid that I am wrong. I am embarrassed that it has gone this far. I am angry that my ego had stolen my life’s most precious gift, time, and I am scared to say I am sorry.
Sorry. Saying, “I am Sorry” doesn’t mean I am wrong, Saying, “I am Sorry” doesn’t mean I am weak. Saying, “I am Sorry” doesn’t mean that I am less than. Sorry takes back the power. Sorry opens the door, and truth be told, sometimes Sorry closes the door and allows the scrapes and heartbreak to begin to heal.
the words that scare me
keeps me frozen in winter
Drip! Crack! time to thaw
rennygspot 