saw a post on Tumblr the other day. It read, “This Autumn, let something die,” and it was about letting go of things that have run their course. Although nature can’t seem to decide whether it’s summer or autumn yet, or if it will just skip ahead to winter, I’m going to just make the executive decision that November is an autumn month. After all, American Thanksgiving is typically associated with fall.
The contents of the aforementioned post hit me hard, possibly because I’ve recently started going to therapy. Not for anything particularly serious. However, I felt that there were some emotional habits that I had created which were not good for me, and I decided to seek out a professional to see what we can do about that.
I don’t know as of yet whether therapy is beneficial to me or not, but it has at least made me more aware of myself. Whether that’s good or bad will be up to me, I suppose.
So, this autumn, I will let something die. Maybe many things.
Things to Let Die:
- Old stories that I have outgrown; creative seeds that never germinated; I can dig these up and store them until I can afford more fertile land and better tools.
- Music that no longer inspires; they clutter my laptop, and nostalgia is insufficient reason to keep them. There will always be new music.
- Guilt for failing to be the person everyone needs me to be. I will commit, again, to becoming a person I can be happy with.
- Frivolity; there is always enough time. It’s just a matter of me pruning the frivolity from my schedule. Ideally, I should pull out the weed by the root, but I’ll just do the best I can for now, ahaha.
- Relationships with people whom I find tiresome, especially acquaintanceships. I do not keep friends whom I feel burdened by, but acquaintances get away with too much. In the end, I have to prioritize me and mine. There is a way to do this politely, I am sure.
And if I let these things die, I feel like I will have more of myself to keep to myself, more resources to invest in my own growth. Can’t have every type of flower in the garden – there are never enough nutrients for that. But I can still make sure it’s a healthy garden that flourishes and can produce a fine bouquet.
That was a poor metaphor. Forgive me, I’m sick and my throat is killing me. Adieu, I need to get some medicine…..