Reflecting

Just dug up some old photos I took last summer. Reflections of a street fair. Reflections past.

One of the many things I've learned on my long, arduous, incredible therapeutic journey is the difference between reflecting and dwelling, particularly when it pertains to the past. Reflecting involves consideration of events and actions and how they have changed me and what I can learn from it all. Dwelling means living in those events and actions.
I lived in the past for a long time.

Reflections bounce off a surface. You can see them, but they aren't real. And with the nanoseconds it takes the light to bounce off the subject, onto the reflective surface, and into my eyes, that puts it all in the past.
I cannot reach into those reflections and touch them or change them.

When I was dwelling, I was hiding in fake. I wasn't living. Or, if I was living, I was living in fear.

But I'm a big girl, now.

I know the difference between past and present.

I know what it means to be safe.

I know what it means to be me.

And I hope that when I get old I have an awesome pilly frumpy dumpy yellow sweater and a dog that's older than dirt and don't give any shits what other people think about us, just like this lady.

and on and on and so on and so forth and profound and moving conclusions about the meaning of life and the importance of self-compassion and trust and blah blah blah

blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

oh hey look I'm home.

Photos edited a year ago and I could probably do a better job now but I'm learning from the past, not trying to change it.

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