Shredded Papers...

Sometimes there are thoughts in my head, and I’m left wondering why they’re there. Pages which you’ve turned, chapters which you’ve ended – and it just sorta pops up and hangs out for a time. I’m not sure why, but I’m always curious of it. I’m one of those people who try to always reach out when someone is on my mind. I remember one time I heard Adam Ant sing “Wonderful”…and I called Sarah. I told her I wasn’t sure why I was calling, but I heard that song and it made me think of her. Sarah told me that that particular day was her brother’s birthday – “Wonderful” was played at Jason’s funeral 2 years earlier.

I’m not sure why, but I’m not really inclined to reach out to Meryl.

Over the last couple of months, I’d call myself a scholar of men. Having an incredible opportunity, I was able to attend a workshop suggested to me by a therapist who thought it’d help me understand men better. He thought, because I never had a constant male influence in my life, that I really had no basis of understanding them – so I’d make up how I thought they should be, and then be disappointed when they weren’t that way. So true. And I will attest to the viciousness of this cycle. So I went to the workshop. My world was rocked. I signed up for the next one, believing that this particular one would help me with my intimacy issues with men (ps, intimacy does not equal sex…it does equal being vulnerable. To date, I have never ever allowed myself to get close to any one man wholly. That poses a problem when you’d like to get married and have babies…). I took the course. Again, my world was rocked. In that particular course, I did a lot of forgiving – of myself, of my dad who wasn’t there, of George who wasn’t really there either, of men who’ve hurt me, men whom I’ve chased and men who’ve just not been there.

We wrote down all those who we knew we needed to forgive and to let go of, and in a bold move after articulating the forgiveness, those papers were ripped up and thrown away. Meryl was one of those whom I forgave – I saw my part. I saw how my actions, determined his actions – how his determined mine – and looking back, I see that it was never, ever what I thought it was. His name was ripped up and thrown away. Yet, he’s image is hanging out in my mind. Maybe I need to write his name again, rip it up and throw it away. Maybe by letting him hang out, I’m letting those moments, that friendship and that relationship determine my future.

In my heart, I know he was a piece of the story – probably not even a whole chapter, and DEFINTIELY not the whole book. Ok, so I’m writing his (real) name down now – did you really think I’d have someone named Meryl in my life?? And I’m ripping it up, throwing it away…and then taking the trash to the trash compactor outside. I know he’s having a happy life, and I deserve for those moments to be memories – memories which got me to where I am, but will not hold me back from where I’m going.

Try it...it's pretty powerful - articulate it out loud...then shred the crap out of it...and toss it!