i can be a mess, to be sure, but i am also well-versed in constructive criticism and can execute perfect form even when my opponents aren't playing fair.
it is true that i have worked diligently to complain less frequently but i always wonder if i still complain too much.
i find it near-impossible to want to bring attention to things that are good, when they are good. this is multi-faceted, this is not news. i'm uncovering the reasons why, however, because it's been difficult to give a voice to my blessings that rivals the voice i've given my grievances. often the sound of my grievances has completely overpowered that which was good, that for which i gave thanks.
this was never more evident than the other night when i started the task of gathering all of my notebooks and journals together. i am feeling the need to pare down, always in an effort to hold on to only the essential.
i have gone through other periods of purge and cleanse but in the last couple of years i started buying journals again.then i put them everywhere, in every room. carefully put away on shelves or in drawers but unorganized and all over. i was a little embarrassed but final count was something like 114, some had never been written in. i'm discarding a good portion and giving at least half of what's left away.
|this is not even all of them|
i was gentle with the clear display of excess. i forgave myself. i had to build a mountain to see the molehill. i ignored myself for so long that i had to repeat myself. a lot. the story is there, now the excavation begins.