Almost daily I head into life as if I didn’t know better, as if history and experience have impressed nothing on me. Lalalala – oops. There I am, right in the middle of humans behaving very badly. Disappointing, betraying, insulting, wounding, being cruel frauds. And I’m not even judging. That’s observation.

It’s okay, though. It takes only a moment of enchantment and my best me is restored. I wonder if this is true for all people.

I hope so.




5 thoughts on “Mistakes

  1. I am a carrier of all things that have hurt me or those I love. Not a quick recoverer. I’m not even sure what my best me is actually, but I guess it must be at least OK. I know myself, but what is best doesn’t always float to the top.

    • Oh, I could not do that – carry the hurt. Not philosophically or creatively. And I’ve had plenty of awful to hold on to. Sometimes, I’m tempted, but … I can’t. In the end, though, I think the only measure can be: do you feel you’re living to your own edges. (That’s my measure, I mean. I don’t really factory ‘happy’ in to it. I’d rather have ten other things before happy. Ok, maybe five. Ha.)

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