(no subject)
I think instead of allowing myself to ruminate over all the hurt, imagined or real, that I have experienced in the past, I want to do some work on letting go.
I know that resentment is one of the biggest stumbling blocks in my life.
I know that everyone is imperfect, and that people who love each other inevitably hurt one another.
I put myself above others, forgetting that I am often hurtful to people I love.
I use anger to protect myself from further hurt, but also from further hurting other people. If I'm angry, they stay away.
Pretty much every tip I've found to let go of resentment is this:
Write down everyone who you have resentments towards
Write down what it is that caused you to resent them in the first place.
Write down the areas in you life that have been affected by the resentment.
Write down how you contributed to the problem.
It's an intimidating task, but one I think would probably be important for me.
It doesn't always control me, but the last two years of obsessive thinking and rumination about all the "wrongs" done me (and some were wrong, but sometimes I really did have a part to play) and how hurt and terrible it all has been.
I'm not in a place where I want to squeeze fake gratitude out of my pores and seem all smiles and cheer. I want to heal.
I think I've done some of that work just by quitting drinking. Honestly. It's a very convenient substance for avoiding reality and emotions. Readily available, and it numbs the heck outta ya.
Starting to think about spirituality and religion in ways that my brain has been hardwired to understand seems to help as well. I pray again, often. I ask The Devine for help. Even if I'm only talking to myself (and at this point, I don't know if I am or not. I'm skeptical, but hopeful), the repetition of the intentions to forgive and be at peace can only do my good.
So, instead of indulging in a loop of, "Fuck this person. They hurt me so bad!" When my mind inevitably tries to take me down that neuropathway, I stop and say something like, "God, help me find peace from and forgiveness for the wrongs done to me." Or sometimes a simple, "I don't want to think about this any more." Sometimes I shake my head a recide the Our Father, the prayer I remember best and find comfort in no matter what simply from the repetition. I'm sure if I'd grown up with some other prayer that was more central, it wouldn't bring me the same kind of immediate peace.
It's interesting to be going down this road, one I never thought I'd walk again. I'm dubious, but like I said, hopeful. I'm recalling parts of my childhood filled with wonderful things. Church was a place I LOVED when I was young. I liked the priests, the ritual, the pomp and circumstance of Mass. I liked going to CCD and being around other kids and learning things about the Bible and Saints, et cetera. I never dreaded it. It was my spiritual home, and I loved it there.
I was EXCITED to make my sacraments, even into high school and being confirmed. I loved researching Joan of Arc, and because I am named for her (my middle name is Jean, and her name in the original language is Jeanne D'Arc) it gave it special meaning. She is my patron saint, the saint that I chose to dedicate energy towards and who (in the Catholic Tradition) will intercede for me before God. Hats off to my mom for passing down her middle name, and a powerful woman from the past to look up to, who also defied gender binaries.
I think I've said this before, but it feels like coming home to let myself think about these things and to pray. It feels more warm and comforting than I would have thought. It's nice. It's more than nice.
And. . . I remember being full, almost overflowing, with love. I understood the lessons of "Love thy neighbor as thyself," and "turn the other cheek," and the Good Samaritan, and all the other lovey lessons at a base level very young. It spoke to parts of who I am intrinsicly. I feel like a lot of that love has been stripped away by both circumstance, and decision. I have given in to being small and petty, when I wouldn't have before. I have been selfish rather than giving. Truly selfish. Not "selfish" in a way that is simply self care, but selfish in a way that hurts people. I have put my own needs above other people and used them to meet those selfish gains.
I can't do it any more.
This spiritual revolution is about more than just what god I choose to worship. This is about coming home to parts of myself that are Good and Worthy, and that I've left starved in the cold for too long. This is about healing and feeding and MOVING FORWARD.
I scoffed when my dad told me the only way to be truly happy was through God. I still find that a little reductive, what with mental illness and mean people. . . But I also see what he was trying to say. Again, had I been brought up differently that may not be true. But I wasn't and I have a set neuropathway for God in my brain that is DEEP. Like, infant baptism DEEP. Trying to rewire those pathways has been painful and fruitless. For me to be happy, I have to live in those grooves. The difference is that I don't have to blindly accept teachings that make my morals and ethics metaphorially voimit in my mouth a little. I can be in relation to "God" and the Curch however I want and need.
Also, I am going to start studying religion in my free time. I went to the library today and picked up a translation of the Quran. I want to read the Bible too, but I've never read any of the Quran and I'm very curious about it. I plan on reading the Vedas, the Bible, the Chatecism of the Catholice Church, and some analysis of religious texts. I want to know more and my brain and heart are thirsty for knowledge. If the passion for it burns out than so be it, but until then I'm gonna throw myself in.
I know that resentment is one of the biggest stumbling blocks in my life.
I know that everyone is imperfect, and that people who love each other inevitably hurt one another.
I put myself above others, forgetting that I am often hurtful to people I love.
I use anger to protect myself from further hurt, but also from further hurting other people. If I'm angry, they stay away.
Pretty much every tip I've found to let go of resentment is this:
Write down everyone who you have resentments towards
Write down what it is that caused you to resent them in the first place.
Write down the areas in you life that have been affected by the resentment.
Write down how you contributed to the problem.
It's an intimidating task, but one I think would probably be important for me.
It doesn't always control me, but the last two years of obsessive thinking and rumination about all the "wrongs" done me (and some were wrong, but sometimes I really did have a part to play) and how hurt and terrible it all has been.
I'm not in a place where I want to squeeze fake gratitude out of my pores and seem all smiles and cheer. I want to heal.
I think I've done some of that work just by quitting drinking. Honestly. It's a very convenient substance for avoiding reality and emotions. Readily available, and it numbs the heck outta ya.
Starting to think about spirituality and religion in ways that my brain has been hardwired to understand seems to help as well. I pray again, often. I ask The Devine for help. Even if I'm only talking to myself (and at this point, I don't know if I am or not. I'm skeptical, but hopeful), the repetition of the intentions to forgive and be at peace can only do my good.
So, instead of indulging in a loop of, "Fuck this person. They hurt me so bad!" When my mind inevitably tries to take me down that neuropathway, I stop and say something like, "God, help me find peace from and forgiveness for the wrongs done to me." Or sometimes a simple, "I don't want to think about this any more." Sometimes I shake my head a recide the Our Father, the prayer I remember best and find comfort in no matter what simply from the repetition. I'm sure if I'd grown up with some other prayer that was more central, it wouldn't bring me the same kind of immediate peace.
It's interesting to be going down this road, one I never thought I'd walk again. I'm dubious, but like I said, hopeful. I'm recalling parts of my childhood filled with wonderful things. Church was a place I LOVED when I was young. I liked the priests, the ritual, the pomp and circumstance of Mass. I liked going to CCD and being around other kids and learning things about the Bible and Saints, et cetera. I never dreaded it. It was my spiritual home, and I loved it there.
I was EXCITED to make my sacraments, even into high school and being confirmed. I loved researching Joan of Arc, and because I am named for her (my middle name is Jean, and her name in the original language is Jeanne D'Arc) it gave it special meaning. She is my patron saint, the saint that I chose to dedicate energy towards and who (in the Catholic Tradition) will intercede for me before God. Hats off to my mom for passing down her middle name, and a powerful woman from the past to look up to, who also defied gender binaries.
I think I've said this before, but it feels like coming home to let myself think about these things and to pray. It feels more warm and comforting than I would have thought. It's nice. It's more than nice.
And. . . I remember being full, almost overflowing, with love. I understood the lessons of "Love thy neighbor as thyself," and "turn the other cheek," and the Good Samaritan, and all the other lovey lessons at a base level very young. It spoke to parts of who I am intrinsicly. I feel like a lot of that love has been stripped away by both circumstance, and decision. I have given in to being small and petty, when I wouldn't have before. I have been selfish rather than giving. Truly selfish. Not "selfish" in a way that is simply self care, but selfish in a way that hurts people. I have put my own needs above other people and used them to meet those selfish gains.
I can't do it any more.
This spiritual revolution is about more than just what god I choose to worship. This is about coming home to parts of myself that are Good and Worthy, and that I've left starved in the cold for too long. This is about healing and feeding and MOVING FORWARD.
I scoffed when my dad told me the only way to be truly happy was through God. I still find that a little reductive, what with mental illness and mean people. . . But I also see what he was trying to say. Again, had I been brought up differently that may not be true. But I wasn't and I have a set neuropathway for God in my brain that is DEEP. Like, infant baptism DEEP. Trying to rewire those pathways has been painful and fruitless. For me to be happy, I have to live in those grooves. The difference is that I don't have to blindly accept teachings that make my morals and ethics metaphorially voimit in my mouth a little. I can be in relation to "God" and the Curch however I want and need.
Also, I am going to start studying religion in my free time. I went to the library today and picked up a translation of the Quran. I want to read the Bible too, but I've never read any of the Quran and I'm very curious about it. I plan on reading the Vedas, the Bible, the Chatecism of the Catholice Church, and some analysis of religious texts. I want to know more and my brain and heart are thirsty for knowledge. If the passion for it burns out than so be it, but until then I'm gonna throw myself in.