You were always a ghost. A faceless and formless puff of miasma inhabiting the emptiest corners of my life, your presence lingering undisturbed in the safety of being at the bottom of a very long list of things to resolve and attend to. Still, I did know you were there. Niggling on the periphery like one little burned out 15 watt bulb in a brightly lit cathedral ceiling. Yes, it tugged at me that you were not illuminated, but enough to go drag out the ladder, climb it's length and change you out? I told myself I would do it the minute another bulb near you went dark. That. Was. A. Mistake.
The day I realized I was no longer willing to neglect the areas of my life that included you- places that rightfully belonged to me- I wanted them back with a vengeance. I saw with new eyes that the territory I'd relinquished (seemingly in my sleep) was vast. Mold, cancer, dry rot... you were this and worse to me. You were no longer in that one small troubling spot, you were everywhere. Eradicating you meant taking my life down to the studs and (once again...) finding courage to take responsibility for the part I played in my own pain. Had I rooted you out the moment I began to notice the lack of light, the action to correct would have been minimal- but those far corners can seem so empty and I could always talk myself into some version of, 'I barely notice', or 'it's harmless ' or finally (and worst of all), 'better the hell you know...'.
The truth is that it is not an easy thing to be always brave enough to do what is right. It's difficult to be ever vigilant about not straying from your 'best path'. The humans, we are fragile and we like to be affiliated with our tribes and tribe members, we're hard-wired for that. Letting go of the attachment to outcome and truly living in the moment has always been my happiness. I think it's time I stop forgetting that.
