We have a tendency to be our own worst enemy. We so easily beat ourselves up over lots. Why is it that we’re so good at being our own harshest critic? To me it remains a mystery and must be some sort of coping mechanism or something.
We have so many.
Human nature continuously confounds me, although nowadays I really don’t fret about or wonder about it like I used to. I’ve learned to accept it, in both myself and in others. What else is there to do? We’re so easily and mortally wounded don’t you think? We so skillfully push the knife further into our own hearts and twist it around and indulge in the pain and fuss and scream and stomp our feet on the pavement, all the while perpetuating the most ridiculous and selfish of notions.
Maybe we’re good enough exactly as we are, no?
I’m not feeling particularly jolly at the moment. But that’s not to say that I’m feeling “unjolly” either. I know, who asked me, right? But have I grown into and become someone who’s numb to life? I don’t think so but I do think I’ve quit assessing my emotions and the “state of things” at every turn and seeking out what I need to be “better” or happier, and treating myself like some sort of delicate and insatiable being who always has to do something to up the ante. To find that elusive magic pill. Although I’m a person of strong conviction I don’t give my convictions as much stock as I used to.
Except that things are just fine as they are.
None of this means that I’m not one who’s up for a challenge, generally speaking. In everything I’ve ever been committed to, I know how to PUSH and better myself and then some. It’s borne great fruit over the years while exhausting the hell out of me too. But I’m glad I have such a quality and wouldn’t want it any other way. Aren’t you glad you have certain qualities? Well you can say so and I hope you do.
I’d like to hear about it.
I guess I can give lots of examples of this and that and everything else, but I won’t as my coffee hasn’t even kicked in yet. And I can blah blah bah until the return of our very own Jesus Christ, but in this day and age I tire easily from the sound of my own voice. That’s why I type- it’s much quieter. Well quiet except for the sound of my unusually fat fingers banging on the keyboard. But I’ve learned that often less is best and that sometimes the only winning move is not to play. Maybe that’s the difference with me nowadays.
I know I have choices.
And so do you. Yeh so this is my cue to jarringly but gracefully segue into a whole nother subject, a much less preachy one no doubt. And I could too. But at the moment I’m genuinely happy with the way things are.