Things happen in my life, some good, some bad. Some in between. The truth of it is I have very little control over what happens to me. And yet, what I do have control over, I give that up too by choosing to believe that I am defined by what happens to me.

If I kill it at work, or with a new client, or on a run or turning laps in the pool, then I feel outstanding and I see myself in that light. And then the other shoe drops, when I have a crappy day and get my ass kicked by a disagreement with my wife, or the stock market dumps, or I am betrayed by someone close to me, then I define myself by those events as well. And so it goes, swinging from one definition to the other, judging myself by these events and all the while, giving up the essence of who I am.

How do I get off this roller coaster? In truth the emotion, whichever direction it is heading, is often more seducing than the antidote. And further, the forensics of unpacking my pathology can be even more beguiling.

“Why? Why? Why do I do this?” I lament, while quietly fawning over my self-absorption.

Forgiveness. It is the knife that cleaves the busyness of the mind, from the essence of who we are.

Forgiveness

I forgive.

I forgive who, and what happens to me.

I forgive myself for wanting to believe that I am that which happens to me. 

I forgive myself for wanting, for it means that I do not see who I am.

I forgive.

This is not to say that I do not feel outstanding when I have a great day, or feel like shit every time something, or someone, conspires against me. But, that I do so with forgiveness. And the ship heading for the iceberg is not me, but me that is the iceberg.