The view behind me is changing
It’s not so much that I no longer regret
But that I understand instead
Who that person was is gone
I’ve moved on
Trying to pin a crime on someone who didn’t commit it is an injustice
So why pillory the present version of you?
How long we hold onto any self loathing is dependent on the self that holds it
And as time goes by and the old self deteriorates, a new one rising, it shouldn’t be surprising that we bid goodbye again and again to all the places and people we have been
and look ahead to someone new
spaces we have never inhabited before
And the hope to become more
I would possibly change this to “if you don’t like who you are, change, you’re not a rock”.
One of the beauties of being a prolific journal writer is that you can’t help but reflect. You can’t help but come up against yourself, as if in a mirror, day after day. Your nose is mashed into your complaints and worries and nonsense, and held there.
There is only so many times you can write about a certain issue before you realise, you simply have to change or continue to moan about it. So you change. It may take awhile and a fair bit of effort but eventually you change.
And then the next issue comes to light. It’s a bit like renovating, always room for improvement. Far from keeping me constantly frustrated with my seemingly endless list of faults, I try to see it instead as an endless capacity for growth and potential
Tolerance and understanding of our own shortcomings leads to compassion for others in theirs. Mostly though, it is difficult to take yourself seriously when you see just how unimportant previously very important things have become when time is added into the equation.
And I refuse to take this version of myself as the end version. We are always updating computer software – why not our own?
Final thought: The word pillory stems from around the 1500’s and refers to the practice of putting miscreants in pillories (sometimes called stocks). People were usually placed in the punishing brace for about an hour, around lunchtime, which was rush hour for the public places where the criminals were displayed. This ensured there were plenty of good citizens around to throw rubbish at the criminal and abuse them for their misdeeds.
Judgement. One hour.
If only we could get over things in one hour instead of shouldering the burden of our mistakes and shortcomings for sometimes years.
If we must put ourselves in our self made pillories then perhaps we should also set a time limit. As in, I will beat myself up about this stupid thing I have done for one hour and then I will reflect on what I’ve learned and move on. Sound reasonable?