We’ve had unusual seasons–a lot of rain, snow, cold and too little sun to suit me. I’ve spent many days in my apartment sorting out my files and organizing my closets. When I first moved here I merely threw things into the drawers with no thought about whether that was the best place for them. It’s taken me over a year to finally get satisfied.
Now I no longer look back, but am constantly looking ahead. I’ve decided that thinking about my past perceptions of myself and others have no value. Instead, I see others and myself in the light of true forgiveness and humor. I am determined to see things differently; I am not a robot—I am free! Free to go and do as I please; free to take on new challenges; free to think what I wish; and free to join or not join with the thinking and actions of others. It’s good to feel free!
I want to experience peace of mind right now and am happy to let go of negative thoughts, choosing peace. I am not a victim of the world I see. This instant is the only time there is. The past is over and the future is yet to be. Peace cannot be found in the past or the future—only in this instant.
The past is over, behind me and cannot touch me. Fear and love cannot co-exist—you cannot be afraid and still feel love, nor feel both guilt and love. By forgiving and letting go of the past, I free myself of the difficult burdens I have carried into the present. What a relief it is!
I now realize that thinking about the future is really living in a fantasy world—I elect to change all thoughts that hurt and am determined to be free from fear, guilt and condemnation.
I, and I alone, am responsible for what I see. I choose the feelings I experience, and I decide upon the goals I set for myself and everything that seems to happen to me.
Perhaps I sound a little like Pollyanna, trying to see the good in people and things, but in so doing, I have come to the conclusion that I feel happier and more content with who I am. Recently I’ve been more aware of the people around me—the ones I pass in the hall or see in the dining room. I’m referring to the ones on their walkers, or gripping a cane, leaning over, faces taut and grim and sometimes with a worried or painful look on their face. As I pass them, I make a point to smile and say, “Hello.” I’m always delighted to see their faces light up as they break into a smile and acknowledge my greeting. Sometimes we stop to talk, and I walk away with a deep feeling of contentment that I helped someone feel more upbeat.
It’s taken a number of years to reach these conclusions about me and my life, and I feel good about the results. Maybe there’s something to be said for the saying “Older and Wiser.”