Putting It Behind Us

Putting the past behind me, letting pain, guilt, and misplaced blame go, and focusing on now is something I genuinely struggle with, dear reader. For years, I have considered myself an overthinker. I reflect on past mistakes, lay blame upon myself for the choices I have made, take responsibility for the actions of others, and rehash old hurts. Being in my head is a tough place to be, especially if you are me. Nobody is harder on me than I am on myself. 

Recently, I have learned a lot about what I always considered a personality trait. Overthinking is not what I am supposed to be doing with the days I am gifted. None of us should do this. I won't go into a lot of detail, but when I attend church, more often than not, I feel as though the day's sermon was written just for me. It's like Pastor Brian is in my messy little head, picks out the most difficult aspects, and speaks on them. I will simply say, dear reader, this has brought me more peace than I have known in years. 

On Sunday, I declared I was done living in the past, the pain, and the mess of emotions. 2026 is the year I will live in the present, live in grace, and become comfortable with peace. On Sunday, I felt so confident in this declaration. I felt so hopeful for the upcoming year and my newly budding faith. That confidence was a brief flickering flame. Welcome, Monday, and the forces that be slam me with a reminder of a weight that drives me to my knees. What do you do when the person you adore holds your hand and tearfully tells you their foundation is cracked? 

Let me tell you what you do: you question everything you have ever believed. You question your role in their cracking. You carry the blame like an albatross. You resort to the spiral of self-doubt, anger, and contempt. I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin because I had so much negative energy swirling around inside of me. So, I walked. I walked along silently, concentrating on the sound of your footfalls on frozen ground. I walked on, despite the cold, my face burning because I deserve to be uncomfortable. I walked on regardless of my feet being so numb that they hurt because I deserve the pain. I walked past the door of warmth and comfort and remained in the punishing cold. 

I walked along the field and woods, and all at once, I stopped dead in my tracks. Before me stood a buck, a noble, wise, obviously skilled in survival buck with horns as thick as a tree branch; he doesn't move; he stares. Even the dog stands still, not moving a muscle. I've seen this buck before. He walked towards me last fall. He showed no signs of fear then, and he doesn't now. He stares at me like he can read every thought. I stopped my spiral. He stopped my spiral. We stared at each other, and suddenly, it all fell away—that blame, fear, guilt...just gone. I remembered what the pastor said. I remembered the process, and I remembered, this is not how I am supposed to live. The buck didn't run off in fear. He ambled into the woods, stopped, turned, stared a moment longer, and walked off over the hill. What just happened?

I feel shaken, but I feel a quiet confidence in my ability to get comfortable with peace; to live in grace. It's not a bright, burning flame. It is more of a quiet glow; it feels steady. Something inside me, maybe that little voice I always say one should listen to, said it's time to work on this again. Without hesitation, I called and made an appointment with a counselor. It's time to unpack this baggage. It's time to ask for some help because 2026 is going to be a year of change. It's a year of living with intention, grace, and becoming comfortable with peace. I can't do it alone. I'm not alone. I just need a safe space to feel all these feelings and let them go once and for all. 

On this cold January day, stay safe, be smart, look for the signs, live with intention, get comfortable with peace, put it all behind you; that's where it belongs. Oh, and of course, keep washing your hands.