I lost a paycheck, the one dated for January 1st that he handed me, along with a bunch of receipts as I drove him to the train station a week and a half ago. Sometimes it's the little/big things that make you feel like a failure. The person who needs to sign a replacement won't be back in the country in time for me to pay the rent on time. So I'm in a bit of a tight spot.
(It will work out in the end I think.)
I think maybe the reason we fixate on such things, beat ourselves silly over the mistakes, is that we're trying to regain control of things.
If only I had put it in my purse. If only I had double checked that everything was back in it properly after Bam Bam tore it apart that day. If only I had examined every piece of paper I swept up or vacuumed out of the van in the past 12 days. If only he had given it to me before we left the house so I could put it away properly. If only I had paid better attention I might remember where I really did put it.
I look for the moment when I could have changed something, trying to find the moment I lost control and wrestle it back into submission.
Only, life doesn't really work that way. All I'm doing is trying to avoid the fear that would seep in and bring despair along on it's heels by maintaining the illusion that I can control the outcome if I just try hard enough.
It's easier than admitting to myself just how fragile and vulnerable all the things that make up a life really are, how quickly all that we work for can disappear.
But holding iron fisted onto an illusion is no life at all, and sometimes we need to open the hand with which we are pummeling ourselves and show a little kindness instead. Perhaps fear, and despair, our old bedfellows, will turn tail and slink away if we stop dragging them along behind us everywhere with a leash fashioned of "if only".
Don't you think it's time to let go?