A southern girl in the Pacific Northwest

Today I am trying hard to have a cheerful demeanor, but generally failing and just grinding my teeth and faking it as best I can. It turned out this morning that I made a HUGE mistake yesterday and sweet fuckall do I look like an idiot. I am trying to learn something and let it go and move on, but the fingerprints are there. My shoulder still hurts and I cannot figure out what I could have done to it.

My friend Christie referenced this poem in a comment yesterday, and I went looking for it. Of course as soon as I read it, I understood why she loves it, and why it is appropriate. Thanks again. ❤

The Journey (Mary Oliver)

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice—
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world
determined to do
the only thing you could do—
determined to save
the only life you could save.

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