Today I threw away a piece of paper I had been carrying in my wallet, for 2 weeks now. I had kept this business card for a long time. I had felt its letters, the thickness of the quality paper on which was printed a name, a phone number, a title. I had kept the card for a long time and today I threw it away.
I felt relieved to throw away the card. Why keep something you don't need? My wallet is overflowing with receipts, papers, (sadly not cash), but still, the coins I carry make my wallet heavy. This card made me heavy. I felt good to let it go.
Why hold onto something you don't need? If it was a job that brought you displeasure, that consumed your public life, then why endure? There are no children to feed, no bills to pay. It is only a useless enterprise for things you cannot take with you when you die. Sometimes it is good to be let go of.. Sometimes, however, it is much easier to hold on to scraps and pieces of something, even when you know it is not the same, not what you wanted. You are happy with something rather than nothing. But how can nothing be better than something? It is easier to pretend and convince yourself that that is what you want, but the mind lies. The heart is not so clever.
I felt intense sadness like I have never felt before. I had cried at the loss of my best friend, but this pain that came last Saturday, the last day of February, was like wailing, an overpowering sadness, loss, and disappointment. A sense of finality had come. The unease, the separation was so great that I called no one. My husband held me as I cried.
The following day was glorious. I felt free. I felt a clarity. I obsessed over the details, found something with which to preoccupy my mind but what is prominent remains so for a reason. I did homework. I went out. I read. I wrote. I worked on my project. I did many things. I cleaned. I cooked. I was alive for the first time in months with responsibility, with a sense of duty and purpose. I loved the feeling of freedom.
At moments when I remembered the past I began to cry, easily because of the happiness I thought I knew. Sadness to the finality of it. I explained to my mother and she said, Why did you say goodbye? There is no reason to say goodbye. So then I wrote, and rewrote, and rewrote my letters. These letters are in many different notebooks, in different handwritings, some typed, some scrawled. These pages I hope to keep with me. There are other pages I hope to keep but never to reread.
I do not want to push away what is best for me. I want to bring what is good and pure closer to me, and keep at a distance from what is not good. I feel that my mother, my parents, my husband pray for the best for me.
I felt relieved to throw away the card. Why keep something you don't need? My wallet is overflowing with receipts, papers, (sadly not cash), but still, the coins I carry make my wallet heavy. This card made me heavy. I felt good to let it go.
Why hold onto something you don't need? If it was a job that brought you displeasure, that consumed your public life, then why endure? There are no children to feed, no bills to pay. It is only a useless enterprise for things you cannot take with you when you die. Sometimes it is good to be let go of.. Sometimes, however, it is much easier to hold on to scraps and pieces of something, even when you know it is not the same, not what you wanted. You are happy with something rather than nothing. But how can nothing be better than something? It is easier to pretend and convince yourself that that is what you want, but the mind lies. The heart is not so clever.
I felt intense sadness like I have never felt before. I had cried at the loss of my best friend, but this pain that came last Saturday, the last day of February, was like wailing, an overpowering sadness, loss, and disappointment. A sense of finality had come. The unease, the separation was so great that I called no one. My husband held me as I cried.
The following day was glorious. I felt free. I felt a clarity. I obsessed over the details, found something with which to preoccupy my mind but what is prominent remains so for a reason. I did homework. I went out. I read. I wrote. I worked on my project. I did many things. I cleaned. I cooked. I was alive for the first time in months with responsibility, with a sense of duty and purpose. I loved the feeling of freedom.
At moments when I remembered the past I began to cry, easily because of the happiness I thought I knew. Sadness to the finality of it. I explained to my mother and she said, Why did you say goodbye? There is no reason to say goodbye. So then I wrote, and rewrote, and rewrote my letters. These letters are in many different notebooks, in different handwritings, some typed, some scrawled. These pages I hope to keep with me. There are other pages I hope to keep but never to reread.
I do not want to push away what is best for me. I want to bring what is good and pure closer to me, and keep at a distance from what is not good. I feel that my mother, my parents, my husband pray for the best for me.
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