Sometimes it is hard to see where someone else is coming from. We find ourselves irritated by the actions of another person, holding onto unnecessary angst and carry that reaction around like a backpack. A heavy heavy backpack.
We all have our own story. A wound we can't heal, a problem we can't fix, a story that belongs only to us. It is uniquely ours no matter what we do with it. How we see our story ebbs and flows and changes as we change, but it - the story- always remains the same. All of these pieces and parts and feelings and thoughts inject themselves into everything we do. If we let these pieces take the path of least resistance, well, then we end up all crooked.
It takes work to remember to be mindful, it takes work to remember that what we do with our story matters. It takes work to remember that everyone has a story, and everyone is dong the best they can with their story.
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