Even Me

Sometimes I am bitter.

Sometimes when I lay in bed at night, my thoughts run wild and dig up old hurts and old grudges and painful things from my past.

And then, I shake my head as though to shake the thoughts away.

But then sometimes in the early mornings when Roy has left for work and I am once again entertained by the conversations in my head, I return to the bitterness. And once in awhile, I engage in conversations with those who have hurt me, stung me with betrayal, rejected me.

It's painful.

I have managed to work myself into quite a state frustration in these times over hurts that are, sometimes years old, and yet--clearly run deep. These rivers of pain have dug deep channels in the crevices of my brain and in quiet moments I easily slide down the slippery banks and coast on its ripples.

Now don't get me wrong. I am not prone to depression and I am quite sure nobody would dare to think that these dark thoughts plague me at times. I do well at putting on a happy face. But, like everyone, I wear a mask that disguises my truth: I have pain. Deep pain.

We all do.

And so this past week I have focused on it. I have tried to get to the root of it, unbury the pain and really feel it, so that I can put it behind me once and for all. I am tired of the same conversations with the same people that go nowhere. Because really...I will never have them. I will keep smiling in their presence, keep pretending...

And in the midst of my journaling and such that I do when I am trying to get on top of my own feelings I realized that I have forgotten one of my pillars of truth:

Compassion.

Everyone does the best they can with what they have.

Somehow when I say that phrase and put their face behind it, the pain is eased. It doesn't change the rejection or the betrayal...but it does change the way I see it.

Suddenly words take on different meanings and spiteful actions become less about me and more about them.

And I have found that, at least for the moment, I can let go. I can breathe. I can feel joy again.

Life is such a tangled web. My life is beautiful right now. My kids are thriving. Roy loves his job. I work with great people and enjoy what I do from 8-5 each day. My home is on a beautiful piece of property and within the year my sister will be my neighbor. My world is filled with laughter and great books and quiet evenings. The view from my porch beholds sunsets of blazoned skies and frolicking pets.

And yet...my thoughts betray me and create a world of angst. I know we all suffer from it. All that I have to do is turn on the news and shake my head at the divide in our country right now. Or scroll through Facebook. Or read the headlines. Or have a heart to heart with a dear friend.

We all carry pain.

Choosing happiness is a bandaid that works for awhile...but it doesn't clean the slate.

I have a friend who has a deep wound in her heart. When she thinks of it, tears well and she immediately changes the subject. "You need to go there," I have said more times than I can count. "You need to allow yourself to feel the pain so that you can move beyond it."

But that pain? It's just so painful. And sometimes it takes courage to stare it in the face.

But when we do...when we finally allow ourselves to feel its angry surge, to bask in it for a moment and allow it to wash over us like a cleansing flood, we are able to finally see with new eyes.

And then we can choose a new way, a better way.

A compassionate way.

Because if we choose to believe that everyone does the best they can, even those that hurt us...well, it allows us to breathe.

Because everyone means...even me.