I was having lunch with some new and old friends in a sleeveless sundress. Let's unpack that for a minute: lunch, outside, which means the time of day when the sun is its strongest. Sleeveless, which means well, no sleeves. Half of me was under an awning, so I didn't pay attention to the part that was NOT under the awning. Anyways. Foolishness. But I wouldn't have traded that sunburn, since it was a delightful hour or so of fellowship.
Somehow, because it is raining this morning, it reminded me of another foolishness, a day spent in Annapolis under a huge golf umbrella. It was a first date, and despite the rain, we were determined, hence the large umbrella. Though I am no longer in touch with the person under the umbrella, the day was a delight. Worth every wet moment.
The point I'm trying to make (yes, there is one...) is that we do foolish things. When we are happy we do foolish things, when we are sad, we do foolish things. It's a part of the creature part of our existence. Hopefully, though, we are wise, we wear our wounds, knowing that either we wouldn't have traded that lunch in the sun or that day in the rain, and knowing that we can't go back in time.
These are some of the things I'm thinking about these days, as I continue to heal from this depression, which lingers, waxing and waning like the moon in its cycles. Yes, I have wounds. But I also have joys, moments that I would not have traded, moments that would not have been possible if I had been well.
It reminds me of that quote from Silver Linings Playbook, a movie I saw in the theatre many many times, even dragging my mother to see it on a snowy day in January, when the roads were a little bit iffy for driving. (Foolishness.)
I was a big slut, but I'm not anymore. There will always be a part of me that is sloppy and dirty, but I like that, just like all the other parts of myself. I can forgive. Can you say the same for yourself, fucker? Can you forgive? Are you capable of that? (Tiffany, as played by Jennifer Lawrence)
I think I'm getting there. Forgiving myself for the sloppy and dirty parts of me that will always be there. And smiling about the foolish things I've done when I was happy.
