I'm telling myself some truly outrageous lies today. Like about how it's somebody else's fault , and that I can't be happy until somebody else does something they aren't doing. In my heart of hearts, I know none of it is true. My solemn intention for some time has been to release blame because, well, it's like that saying about resentment: it's like swallowing poison and hoping someone else will die.
I know it's hopeless, useless, and, let's not forget, unkind, to blame other people for my own angry thoughts. Happiness is an inside job, I tell my children. It's all "my movie," as my friend Loren would say. Still, the old habits can be so seductive. I find myself savoring this trip down Blame-and-Complain Lane.
And yet, even as I hear my words, I can feel the Presence peering in on me. It looks like a pair of Eyes behind my physical eyes ~ Eyes that see the Truth ~ looking at me from the inside. The "Eyes behind the lies" I call it.
"Are you done yet?"
"Nope, but thanks for asking."
"Are you believing any of what you're saying?"
"Not a word. But I'm enjoying this moment immensely."
"Really?"
"Actually, I'm miserable. But still not ready."
As miserable as it feels to hang onto being miserable, I take a perverse pleasure in choosing it. And yet my conversation with the Eyes reminds me that I don't have to stay here. And I can choose ~ and I always have the choice ~ to let it all go. If I really want to. Now that's the key.
I know it's hopeless, useless, and, let's not forget, unkind, to blame other people for my own angry thoughts. Happiness is an inside job, I tell my children. It's all "my movie," as my friend Loren would say. Still, the old habits can be so seductive. I find myself savoring this trip down Blame-and-Complain Lane.
And yet, even as I hear my words, I can feel the Presence peering in on me. It looks like a pair of Eyes behind my physical eyes ~ Eyes that see the Truth ~ looking at me from the inside. The "Eyes behind the lies" I call it.
"Are you done yet?"
"Nope, but thanks for asking."
"Are you believing any of what you're saying?"
"Not a word. But I'm enjoying this moment immensely."
"Really?"
"Actually, I'm miserable. But still not ready."
As miserable as it feels to hang onto being miserable, I take a perverse pleasure in choosing it. And yet my conversation with the Eyes reminds me that I don't have to stay here. And I can choose ~ and I always have the choice ~ to let it all go. If I really want to. Now that's the key.
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