Forgiveness

The old adage “when you point a finger, three are pointing back at you” never rang more loudly or more true than this month.
It seems that falling in love irreparably clouded my brain and my judgment, in so much that it precluded me from remembering that people are human and thus prone to error, myself included. Love does not provide a waiver, with its establishment, against imperfection. And as much as I want my partner to be perfect and never disappoint me, this is as assured as the snow dropping in San Diego, unrealistic and futile. I get wrapped up in my self righteous indignation over real or imagined slights that fate decides on a painful intervention, my conscience, which reels its ugly head much like a stinging scorpion. Deceiving as the initial bite does not seem fierce, a mere piercing of skin, but the poison infiltrates and once it reaches fruition, boy does it smart. Providing a well needed reminder that all armor has chinks, and your white knight upon the strongly referenced steed is not perfect, and will make mistakes which you should ultimately forgive and disregard. I ask myself, am I not forgiven when I am at fault? Especially from the one who endures my moodiness and sometimes judgment prone nature. The one who cooks my dinner, takes care of the house while I am traveling, and takes time every day to remind me that he loves me and is thinking of me, no matter how busy or overwhelmed he may be. . And this is where I hang my head in shame, for I am sometimes quick to anger, slow to forgive, and like the blasted proverbial elephant, I seem to remember and thus hold onto everything negative as my protective shield. This habit, though fruitless, is something developed and perfected throughout my single years, which consisted mainly of me giving what others willingly took, with not much return on my investment of time and attention. I am accustomed to disappointment and thus expect it. No excuse, but the gods truth. And how does that serve me-with a building of resentment and anger grown massive in proportion and hardly the equivalent to the incident that spurred its unnecessary and ridiculous growth. Thus causing misdirected anger over the most trivial of “sins”.
I shall try to remember that the one I love does not keep a tally of all my wrong doings, and there is no benefit wrought from harboring sadness and resentment. When a mistake is made, unless the gravity of the error causes permanent damage and destruction to trust, I shall endeavor to let it go and remember that I am never reminded of my flaws and always blessedly forgiven for my multitude of mistakes, with nary a mention of their occurrence by my other and “better” half.

The forgotten bloom

I get so caught up in the obsessive planning of my life and tasks related to my job that I often overlook the important things. Much like a single rose that lay blooming alongside the path, nearly trodden by a clumsy footing that is so involved in calculating and strategizing the tasks and trials to accomplish and overcome that the innocent rose is nearly obliterated, a wasted bloom, an overlooked glorious scent, with no regard for texture of petals or luminating luster to an otherwise grey and colorless landscape. The single flower that if one stopped to notice, admire, a mere second of effort in a self absorbed and singular pursuit would lend credence, inspiration and truth to what really matters in this fleeting existence.
The rose can be a lover, friend or family member that needs the smallest recognition or validation of importance, strength and truth, and the smallest effort would lend such light and sustenance to a blossom nearly wilting from thirst or buried with thorns.
Stop to smell these flowers, lend your light to wayward blooms that may seem to trip your footing for a perceived careless need that is truly a cry for attention. Don’t let the thorns of life so consume your thoughts that you overlook the love and need that lie wilting at your feet.
Today I was reminded of that which is truly important, my lover, my family, my friends, and I am ashamed for my selfish lack of recognition and humbled by the strength wrought from the simplest effort of release of what thought I needed to accomplish vs. what I really needed to do.Humanity, family, friends, loyalty and support are what you will remember at the end of your days, and how you showed your love and support to nurture the flowers in the proverbial garden of your life.

Hello to your new fairy tale

I recently moved in with my fiancee and his children after having lived alone for ten years, with solo establishment and absolute domain over my space, my time, control over every circumstance in my life down to the number of tissues used while blowing my nose. Relinquishing this control has been both an extremely gratifying and extremely difficult adjustment. Especially for a freakishly controlling and orderly person such as myself who has to re-hang a blouse if the collar is facing left rather than right . I find it hilariously ironic that finding your heart's desire and implementing a lifetime of wishes come true also requires compromise and a yielding of will that has governed your thoughts and decisions throughout your single life. No one, including myself, ever thought beyond the white knight, the stalwart steed and riding off into the proverbial sunset, that even fairly tales are grounded in reality and affect change with the implementaton. Part 2 of that happy ending is thinking of sunblock to protect against said sunset, a new pair of horseshoes for the steed as the poor horse is now carrying 2, a new drawbridge for the moat as the wood is rotting, algae treatment for the moat, and consideration for prince's hunting spaniels, queen mother and obnoxious falcon collection. Cinderella has lived alone in her own condo for so many years that she has forgotten how to funtion in a family unit, with the noise, laughter, fighting, frustration, tears, joy, i.e. all the wonderful components of a true family. Cinderella is about to become the stepmother and is a little terrified of the implications of this uncharted territory. However as we know, Cinderella is a trooper, vanquished an evil stepmother and won the love of a handsome prince in the space of a week. I think she will previal in this latest endeavor.
The other side of this sometimes terrifying coin is the introduction to solitude on behalf of individuals newly single, divorced, those who have spent years within the confines of relationship and/or family unit now relishing or dreading the prospect of living alone. No pitter patter of footsteps and exultant cry of a child joyously greeting the day, no task driven list of "to do" items provided by one manically organized spouse to another. Quiet mornings sleeping in, the only noise to greet you with the dawn's light the sound of coffee sputtering and the morning D.J. ringing in the week. And having spoken to individuals who went from one transition to another I find it quite amusing that the things I took for granted are the things these folks relish the most. From walking around the kitchen in your knickers (my British friend) for the first time as no one is around to claim that you shoudl be "dressed" around the children, to having the ability to run to Taco Bell at 2am on impulse as you have a sudden chalupa craving and no controlling husband to consider. These folks are enjoying the unknown freedoms life changes bring while adjusting to the challenges that are also presented.
I shall find joy in possibly guiding and influencing small children having none of my own, thankful for the opportunity to experience even the smallest element of parenting. And I shall wistfully bid farewell to my overabudance of alone tme, as too much solitude is unhealthy for anyone. Cinderella still has her own side of the moat for occasional "me time", with a blessed view of prince charming and his daughters playing on the castle ramparts, reminding her of her exciting new life and the challenges and joy it shall bring.