I bought myself new slippers. I feel really good about this.
My old ones were so worn in that I could feel the ridges on my feet and they hurt every time I wore them.
I kept wearing them anyway.
Sometimes I forget.
It’s okay to spend a little money on something that isn’t a dire-I-will-die-if-I-don’t-buy-this sort of thing.
Sometimes I forget to stop being afraid.
It’s the little things. Isn’t it?
That remind us that we’re human.
And we are.
We mess up.
We circle the same thing that we know is hurting us, trying to believe it isn’t what it is.
We’re already grieving its death anyway. We just don’t want to let go.
We hold tight, even as it cuts into our fingers and saps the energy we need to survive.
We’re not really grieving what we think we are.
We’re grieving the illusion.
What we wish it had been.
What we always wished it had been.
Isn’t that what we find with every unhealthy thing we must let go of?
I bought myself new slippers and I feel really good about it.