In recent posts, I have made realization and reference about the concept of letting go. The most prominent being here and here.
I have been relatively quite since those entries. To me, annoyingly so. I keep thinking to my memory. My ability to remember more than any specific memories. Sometimes I do not understand the concept of letting go and still remembering, but that is little matter. Mostly, I have always found great insight in the little things.
I used to get so angry about that book. That damned book! Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff (And It’s All Small Stuff) It would infuriate me. To my eyes, it taught people not to be courteous. It said ignore small social niceties. So on. I know that wasn’t the point of it. More so, it frustrated me because it taught people how to fall subject to get big trauma and drama in their life. I always found that if I pay attention to (not sweat, but just watch) the small stuff, when big huge events come along I can just sidestep them and let them pass by.
Chemo was my ringing truth of thing. It was disgusting how easily I passed through treatment. Most of the nursing staff agreed. And this light demeanor about treatment let the nurses to fight over who got me on their rounds…
Again, to the point. I am finding myself curious about this letting go. I currently have seemed to manage a release of stress and worry unlike anything in the past four years. Honestly. Although it may just prove to be a calm before another spasm. Still I have these crazy-accurate memories. I have always had memories that seem more dreamlike than anything else. (You know, the dream where you sit outside of yourself and watch things happen) Many of my dreams seem unaffected by my own personal preferences. Unbiased if you will. Some not so much.
And still I find an importance to memories. I remember odd little things about folks. I make no judgment of them really, as a person, but I may slow down my approach as I get near to them, looking for other signs or signals. This is how I keep myself safe from harm, or safe from perceived harm… It may or may not prevent me from living. I suspect only in minor ways on occasional intervals.
I am not sure if this is leading to a point like I may have first thought, but then, I don’t much care if it does… That is very much my brain these days.
I like that I can see huge power in tiny exchanges of words. Sometimes, no one around me seems to see them. I used to try to point them out. Now, I try to simply wait until someone asks me, which is certainly rare. Very few can learn from outside of themselves. People these days wield power like nothing, mostly because I think they are clueless to its effects or even existence. Word have power and people with good word usage have lots of power. A shame to think this may become a lost awareness for most. They hurt and offend when they think they are offering an olive branch. I cannot often explain it well. So now, I try to just sit back and let it wash over me.
My memories will help me to remember to whom I should warm up and for whom I should carry caution. I hope. If not, perhaps I forgot what I meant to remember.
gryphon's hole 