Dear Disappointment,
No offense... but you SUCK. Mainly because I know that I 100% brought you into my life, with a good ole' expectation. You don't breathe, exist or show up anywhere without it. You're like the teammate of Expectation! A partner in crime! A loyal spouse! Or a leech that sticks around even when it is not wanted... To relieve myself of you means to never expect a thing. And to never expect a thing means to never dream about a possibility, a change, an elevation of some sort - an elevation that goes somewhere. Do Zen monks get to know you as much as I do?! Is anyone relieved from the misery that is your existence?! I realize I am coming off strong and vilifying you quite a bit... but I am speaking from feeling YOU entirely in my veins, and the feeling of you is so dreadful and full of regret and sadness. So if I act out - that is WHY. And I apologize. And I guess I also thank you for showing up if only for the lesson of relieving myself of expectations to begin with. Any form of futurism that is set in stone more than the occasional dreaming and fantasizing and strategizing is a dangerous tempting avenue to embrace some expectations that will bring nothing but YOU into my mix. So bring it on, Disappointment. Bring YOU on. Me.
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AuthorIn April 2020, while experiencing her first ever global pandemic, Tamar Pelzig pledged to write something every day, even if it's only a word, so she welcomed to the world a daily blog to keep her creative writing wheels rolling. Categories
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