I have a habit of thinking compulsively, sometimes in circles. Reacting to seemingly small stimuli, for example a negative feeling in the pit of my stomach or a tinge of longing, I fabricate a story to explain the emotion. People who know a lot more than me call it "rationalizing". I condemn myself for being affected by the impatient driver who cut me off or becoming irritable with a family member. For admiring young lovers enjoying the newness of their relationship and comparing it to my own relationship, or observing a peer with enviable confidence, looks, success, and wondering if I am enough. The cycle is potentially damaging because everyone has something we haven't. More so, everyone's different. We forget to give thanks for who and what we are, flaws and all.
I've eased up of late though, because there is an odd liberation in acknowledging unsavory human tendencies. Identifying simply, " I am in a bad mood; it will pass." Admitting when I am jealous, critical, or angry. Finding peace in a burst of fury or caddy impulse before releasing them. Feelings like this remind me that I am fallible, at the same time encouraging acceptance and personal growth.
"I am broken, and that is ok. I was made to be imperfect."
It is gratifying to be honest. In the deep recesses of my mind, what goes on isn't immediately available to others; I can choose to make it their business or keep it filed in my personal folder. Thoughts are powerful, but I've seen first-hand that thoughts don't make the person. Actions and words released in to the world make the person.
The struggle is constant, to make the right choice over the easy choice, to act with compassion and patience. Thankfully, every day is another chance, as my Nana told me once. You can wake up and begin again, carrying the weight of the days prior until it is too heavy to bear.