Life is like a backpack. You travel through life, and gather items from all around you. You sew on badges from lessons that you've learned, places that you've been, and from the people that touch your life. You can carry with you the things that you never want to lose, but also along that path, you can collect things that you really should have passed over.
That's the toughest part about having that backpack is learning what you should be putting in that backpack. It has the ability to carry the beautiful things that you want with you all the time. The memories of sunsets and moments at the lake and rides on the gondola and mud baths are all beautiful things that you can bring forth at any time to enjoy. But it also carries around with it old fights, old scars, moments of pain that your heart has taken a snapshot of. Instead of reminding you that this is where you don't want to be, it can start to become a place where you are trapped.
You still mull it over in your mind, turning it over and over again like a Rubik's cube trying to figure out how it all went so wrong. And then all of a sudden, you can't remember why you are trying. It's something that happened that will never go away, and isntead of just putting it down like a book you've read a thousand times, you start to carry it around and read it over and over like a bible. It's not teaching you what you need to learn, it's teaching you how to stay in that moment and cherish the hurt.
I've been carrying this backpack around for a long time. There are things that I struggle with sometimes on an hourly basis. I can't help it per se, it just happens. I'm at a crossroads where my backpack is at its limit. I have to start taking the stuff out that is hurting me, crippling me and cherishing the moments where I felt as beautiful as I feel.
I am trying desperately to remember the lesson and forget the class if you know what I mean. I don't have to relive that moment. I learned what I learned, and it's time for me to move on from there. I should know what is important in my life, and I should move that way. I know what makes me happy. I know the feel of a path beneath my feet, the feel of wind in my face, the heat of the sun on my face is what makes me happy. It's feeling totally alone in a place crawling with people and being able to only hear the sound of my heartbeat in my ears.
It's being in the kitchen and cooking to my heart's content. It's finding a new recipe and trying it out. It's going for a run - even if it's in split times, and feeling proud of myself when I'm done because I did it.
Over the years, I've given up a lot of myself in order to please other people. And I've grown to resent it. I've given up curling and weekends, and evenings with my kids for the sake of a job, for the sake of taking care of a husband, for the sake of avoiding situations and people that hurt me. When I'm working downtown right now, I'm nervous to go home but when I get here, I remember how nice it is to make dinner for my family and see them eat. I remember what it is like to see the clock at 9pm and know that my kids are in bed.
I'm adjusting to getting up and getting them up in the morning, and I'm scared as to what will happen when Jenna goes back to school but when we went to Banff this weekend, I remember what it was like to have a weekend. I miss Transit for that. And then I realise that I've only got one more year to go. One more year to having the power to have a job that is day time and an option to pick up one or two shifts on the weekend.
I'm praying and continuing to pray for my husband. Things are looking so up right now, and I'm cautiously optimistic. I'm continuing to pray that God will just give us one more nod and let this tumultuousness rest behind us. I'm praying that the anger and resentment that we feel toward this past year will finally let go.
I'm ready to transform this life. Right here, and right now. I'm one year in, and only one more to go. And from there, I'm praying that God will set out my path, and I will be able to enjoy it.
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