It is said, by a wise old fella, that every heart has its grievance. It’s impossible to pass through the Harry Potter like trial of human youth without emerging with a wounded heart. Poor us.
Many people hold their grievance in their bodies and never identify it. It simply permeates their personality and later their romantic relationships. We all make choices; we all get hurt and sometimes we don’t know why. We wander and we live and sometimes, we don’t learn.
My grievance, my wound, is being overlooked, or not noticed. I could tell you the boring circumstances under which it developed; or the ways I have noticed how it manifests in me adult, but it doesn’t matter. It is what it is. We all get one, and mines that flavour.
I have found my grievance and I like that I can feel it. I make space for the gremlin. When I am ignored at work, I embrace my annoyance and frustration. When my lover is distracted on the phone, I feel the temper (and likely end the call). And I breathe the pain into my heart. It feels very real; I can see why people avoid it. It’s digging fingers into old wounds.
My goal, in having the felt experience, is to embrace it and then to reconnect to the love I have lost for myself. The idea is that grievance is always a disconnection in yourself. The pain is a gift. The grievance is the pathway to self-love.
My behaviour might seem ridiculous, but usually I find value and purpose in my frailty.
Today was a little tough one for me. And I learned to love myself a little more. It’s all good.