Every once in while, someone pokes you in the heart and it hurts. I think it is a reminder that we need to take stock in what is good and what isn’t in our lives. Perhaps we need to empty some garbage or we need to re-stock the shelves. Maybe we need to redefine what is garbage. This week has been not one but three reminders that I carry my fair share of garbage and that I have been handing out to others unknowingly.
I have never been one to let people into my heart. Trust is not a virtue that I carry well, if at all. I have never had “close” friends until I thought recently and likely as not it has been because I am convinced in my heart, I am not worthy. I vow to change, but then reality sets in not long after and I am back to being who I am and who I will always be. Somewhere, I have read or have been told to accept our shortfalls means to understand them and give up on them. They are hinged to us in ways that we will never undo them. Instead, find the joy and advantages of our strengths. Work on them and make them better. But what if the garbage is starting to smell?
So without copious quantities of counseling, telling my life stories to someone who is paid to sit and hear them and then find some meaningful way of coaching me to solve our own “world disasters”, I am trying to clean up my side of the street. What I learned today, is not everyone wants the street cleaned. So, to whom it concerns, you poked, I hurt. I need to put it in a box for a bit, but I will come back to it, likely soon. I accept I need to move to another street. I am sorry for how I made you feel.
This afternoon I am back to my dye pots. The last yarns for the Tapas Club. The yarns are quiet and for the most part understanding. Thankfully, when they are not there is such a thing as overdying, the results of which are without exception stunning, fresh and usually a complete surprise. I think I might hop in the pot with the yarns. Perhaps the makeover will do me some good, you know, change the smell of the garbage or even better, turn this trash into a treasure for some other soul willing to let me on their street.