Some loose change? A set of keys? A receipt or two? Your wallet? Maybe your phone?
What if you lost that stuff? What would happen?
You’d probably worry about it, fret about it or maybe curse like a drunk dock-worker. You might be upset that you lost some of your stuff. You’d sigh as you realise you have to get going replacing it all.
But what about you? What impact does this have on you, other than some momentary frustration?
When it gets to the bigger stuff, like a car, a friend, a house, a job, a partner or your health, the stakes get a little higher and the frustration, anger and hurt can grow to match.
But there you are, in the middle of it all, going through it one second at a time.
Hurt when you hurt and miss what you miss, but don’t for any one of those seconds think that you’re any less or any worse as a result.
Instinct will urge you to cling to the hurt of what you’ve lost as a way to keep it close and keep the past alive, but the only thing that brings is the diminishing of your self and the growth of fear.
You have the right to make mistakes, lose everything and start again
It’s actually kind of a miracle if you think about it; a right that lets you experiment and a right as essential as breathing or free speech, but a right that’s pulled back from out of fear.
I hope you flourish and I want the best for you. But the only thing to be afraid of—with genuine, heart-stopping fear—is that you go through your life as if this right wasn’t yours, as if losing everything would see life standing over you, pressing its boot down onto your beaten chest, and that it would be that way forever.
You have the right to make mistakes, lose everything and start again.
How does that feel?