617: If you don’t know me by now

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That song by Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes is running through my head like a funeral dirge. In a way, it is a funeral dirge. The song says to the other lover, “You have grossly and fundamentally misunderstood me yet again, after all this time, and all my examples to the contrary.”

That song is a funeral dirge – a sad song sung at the death of something valued. The thing that died is trust and understanding.

I feel sad, because it is quite normal to feel sad when something that was valued dies. It is even more tragic when it died because it was murdered, with a deliberate choice to believe something of me……that is not me, by inclination or by example.

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After this happens, I have to choose. I have to choose between forgiving/understanding/explaining one more time, and resurrecting what died (and it feels like an un-dead zombie for quite a while after it is resurrected), or accepting that your judgment of me really is the way you think of me fundamentally down deep inside yourself, and let it remain dead, have the funeral, sing the song, and MOVE ON.

Yes, the hardest choice you will ever make is whether to stick with it and give it one MORE try, or whether to finally accept that this thing is dead, was so flawed at the foundation to start with that it cannot be reanimated into an awkward un-dead, but still mostly dead, rotting, worm and decay infested zombie, slowly and painfully warming up to resemble real life.

So, do  I turn the page and keep reading this stinker of a novel, or close the book, and decide whether to choose another, different book, or just swear off reading forever? I have been known to continue reading a stinker to the bitter end, and I have also closed a stinker and found another book. Not sure which choice was the better one – and I am darn sure that I am not looking forward to having to make either choice yet again.

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Time to choose, because not choosing is still a choice.

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602: Stubborn

I understand that things can get difficult. Even when they are first world problems (which means they are issues of privilege), they are still problems. True, mine are generally insignificant ones, compared to life and death problems that many people the world over are struggling with each and every day, that is quite true. But they are still problems, even if they are insignificant ones (when viewed through that realistic lens).  Let’s be real, nobody is holding a gun to my head, literally (even if I sometimes feel like that figuratively). I still have choices (even when it feels like I don’t).

Understanding that most of my problems are small ones (nothing life or death, here!) SHOULD make it somewhat easier to suck it up, buttercup – and MOVE ON. *sigh*

Time to find my inner stubborn, and kick that ass into gear.

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593: Enough

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What is enough?

What is excess – what is not enough?

Can I trust this yearning inside that tells me

yes, this is lacking, and no, that is surfeit?

There is no better judge, no better measure

of enough

than resides in this heart

that beats in this breast

in this body

that is the center of my personal universe.

There can be no better understanding

as that is the only understanding

I will ever, ever know.

Trusting what is within me

to be enough.

531: Too Much

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Usually, I cope well with frustration.

I recognize that a small thing is indeed a small thing, and not worth getting my feathers in a fluff. Frustration is an opportunity to practice patience (ugh), forbearance, understanding, and forgiveness. Generally, even with something that truly aggravates me, I can fairly quickly get over it, even if that takes a day or two to conquer it. And that something is a zinger, to take a day or two.

There are, however, a few times when something little happens, and it zings right down to the fundamental level and refuses to be banished, not even in a day or two. It hangs around and intrudes on my thoughts for quite some time.

Those things, even when they are really, truly, small things – are not small things to ME. Those things are a signal that something much larger is going on, and that I need to pay attention and deal with what is really going on – not the admittedly little thing that set me off. Something is going on that needs some focused thought and effort, because if I get bent out of shape over something little, that something little is a symptom of a much bigger problem.

And thoughtfully and seriously dealing with significant issues is EVERYBODY’S very favorite thing to do, right? Right, me neither.

Dealing. Digging. Inspecting. Weeding. Understanding, forgiving.

*sigh*