Press On

There's this one very cool thing about "growing up" and that is being able to have your buttons pressed (or smashed) and have the wherewithal to just sit with it. Sit with the anger, the wrongdoing, the bruised ego, and simply marvel at the experience. Sit with the knowledge that you have let this experience into your consciousness somehow, for some reason or non-reason. Sit with the process of discerning the pathway in, the doorway through which it came, the locks and windows on the door, and deciding if that's a good place for a door, anyway.

I am really digging this "honoring-my-feelings" bit. I had a colleague step on my toes out of self-proclaimed overactive OCD, and for a good while, I really let myself BE ANGRY. I called her names, I flipped her off, I sang nasty songs to her, I plotted humiliating revenge tactics for her (all in the privacy of my own home, mind you)...and then I laughed. Out loud. A lot. Because this girl is my friend and her honesty combined with her desire to run a smooth-sailing ship is admirable and honorable and I really love and appreciate every single thing she brings to the table and I know I am very blessed and grateful to have her in my life. I laughed again. All of the anger fell away so easily after I was able to reply honestly, and witness it being received in an honest, open and nonjudgmental way.

It's really hard to be angry when your needs are being met.

Anger = Unmet Desire (thank you Char)

So now that I can sit with getting my buttons pushed, the next thing might be to become bold in saying what is so. In commanding the flow or a moment as opposed to subjecting myself to it. In disciplining myself into self-love and self-respect...or maybe it will be just to stop smoking...ah geez. When the lessons all have similar roots, it's hard to know where to start...so let's start everywhere. Make small changes every day, and make every day worth learning about and worth living from.

*beaming bursts of loving ecstacy for you and me and everyone in between and out there somewhere*