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Sometimes I have this. Imbalanced hope. I keep showing up with a smile even though that situation or individual has kicked me in the teeth seventeen times. All seventeen times that I have shown up. Kicked in the teeth... every time. Well, maybe it was only sixteen times, but either way, the ratio is unfavorable and at the very least, I should be showing up with a mouthguard and headgear.
What is funny about abusers teeth kickers is that they seem to get off on treating the people they love like crap. I have had the honor privilege painful experience ... I have been able to observe this ridiculousness first hand for almost fifteen years. *cue violin*
In a nutshell, it's painful to behold or experience and it sucks because the relationship is a one way highway to hell where you give and give and give and it's never ever ever reciprocated. There are moments that at first glance seem to be reciprocation, but once again, it's a swift, hard kick to the pearly whites. I don't know if these people/situations are psychotic, narcissistic or what exactly... and I'm done trying to figure it out really because it's their problem, not mine. And, I have mucho bien amigos. Mucho, mucho bien amigos who inspired me to write this post about the ways to be a fab friend. This past weekend, I got to live out the awesomeness of fab friends at a reunion of sorts via wedding with some of my college pals who are equal parts hilarious, loving, honest and utterly amazing. It was heaven on earth and I will share *some* of that soonish... But for now, back to the craycray peeps... Dealing with them is downright dastardly and devilish and I have the scars and dental bills to prove it. *violin solo ends*
So, in trying to find the healthy ground between showing up for a teeth kicking (again... hopefully not... this time could be different is how it usually goes in my head) or showing up dressed to play goalie for the hockey team (which makes me feel protected, but looks downright cray), I realized this: my hope was never supposed to be in the person/situation anyway. Duh.com. My hope is supposed to be in my higher power, the one who is greater than I, the Creator of this world, the universe... all that is seen and unseen. How did I forget that (again)? So as I take off the goalie uniform, I realize: my hope is and always will be imbalanced if it's resting on anything other than the divine, the spiritual or the miraculous. Anytime I hedge myself on anything else, I am instantly bolted into imbalance and who wants to feel dizzy and out of sorts all the time? Not me. Let's place our hope in the One who created the butterfly and the Milky Way, shall we? The One who holds the world in His hands so to speak. The One who keeps it all in check by managing (read: balancing) the tension and sorting out the proportions. Whenever I come to this realization, one of my favorite prayers comes to mind:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time, accepting hardship as a pathway to peace. Taking as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it. Trusting that You will make all things right if I surrender to Your will, so that I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with You forever in the next. Amen.
There was a time when that prayer pissed me the hell off, but that was then and this is now. And now, that prayer and my belief in it are synonymous with one thing: balance.
XO Sharita
