In Staying Mad, The Past Is Alive

I can’t stay mad at you. I like today’s Daily Prompt over at WordPress. It refers to our focus. Are we focused upon the present, or the past? Staying mad at someone keeps your focus on your perception of what they did. That’s past tense. I know because I’m currently studying Latin and I’m learning once again about verb tenses. It’s easier now, given that I had three years of Spanish in high school and two years of French in college. Not that I can speak a word of Spanish or French, mind you, but at least the process is familiar. It’s a witch thing, Latin. Spells are better in Latin. I’m reasonably good at writing them as long as they’re simple, but I really want to be sure I’m saying what I think I’m saying. So I’m embarking upon a course in Wheelock’s Latin over at Udemy. Self-study is fine, but the instructor offering the course is a retired college professor, and I think I would benefit from a more structured setting.

Anyway, back to being mad. We tend as humans to live in the past, holding anyone and everyone in a place of our choosing. We become not-so-little pockets of resistance, swirling about, never moving forward, expecting everyone else to buy in to our view of things. And we’re shocked when they resist.

Mad words give way to madness as we hang in there, self-righteously explaining the truth to others as their eyes glaze over. We can never seem to let others just be. Our mothers told us endlessly to mind our own business. Did we listen? Of course not. I don’t know if it’s about winning, or being right, or what it’s all about, but if we’d just let people be and stop judging them for everything we think they did in the past, the world would be a much calmer place. Because when what we’re mad about isn’t happening anymore, facts give way to perception, and then it’s game on. And for what?

Thanksgiving is tomorrow. I’ve not cooked a turkey in my new convection oven yet, and I’m eager to see how it turns out. Our two sons are married and not really in our lives anymore. The vision I had of holidays together as our family grows in number has now been relegated to wishful thinking. A mother’s wishes derailed by her sons’ choices. So instead, it will just be us, my husband and me, as it was in the beginning, thirty-six years ago. My husband insisted then on a Butterball turkey, a twenty-two pound Butterball turkey, for the two of us. I considered buying a separate freezer for the leftover turkey alone. I confess to buying other brands over the years, but we always return to the Butterball.

And while the turkey thaws in my canning pot, I wish everyone a lovely Thanksgiving holiday tomorrow, filled with love and family. Let’s leave the mad feelings where they belong, firmly in the distant past, where they belong. And tonight, whether you can see her or not, take a walk outside and receive Goddess blessings as the Full Moon shines bright. Know for certain that you are loved beyond measure!

~Blessings to all!