As a child, I did not ponder on what I loved or did not love. Chances were I was much better off that way because what did I know about anything back then anyway? So many concepts were brand new to me and I had nothing to compare them to.
It is easy to love or not love people. The more one frowns at you, the more likely you are to disregard them. The more they smile and say pleasant things to you, the likelier you are to give them your attention.
I learned, as I matured, to distinguish my emotions about people and things more explicitly, making a multitude of categories on the positive and negative side of my impressions of them. The word, love, became reserved for only those special items, pets, and human beings.
My appreciation for things [not people] changed, sometimes, on a daily basis. There are times when this still occurs, which makes me question how flighty I am at times. I will proclaim I love the color, blue, yet the next day I will change my mind saying green is better.
I had heard it said we are inclined to change our minds with our moods. To a certain degree, I am given to believe this. Although when it comes to food and where I live, I hold on fast.
I can say for certain I do not, in any way, shape, or form like living where I am right now. I do not feel comfortable here. My ways, my personal culture, is just not the same as those around me. Or maybe it is the way my mind is wired to arrive at conclusions. I am positive I would be happier north or west. Yet, here is where I reside and I will not be leaving anytime soon.
I am sure I love coffee. It was a craving when I was pregnant with my son and I still want it. Yet, my body has decided I cannot tolerate it anymore. I even tried adding creamer to soften the effect of it on my system but my insides let me know the trick was not going to work. It was not the caffeine or the acid either. I have switched to tea, which I am having to acquire a taste for in order to get that caffeine that gets me going in the morning. The acid in it is not effecting my system one bit.
Envisioning myself living just a stroll away from a beach or living in a community more suited to my personality used to be my number one daydream. I would sit out under the eaves of the car port gazing out at the activity on my street thinking of how marvelous it would be not to be where I am. My hatred for the surroundings I live in and my desire for other residences were beginning to eat at me.
A similar thing happened with the coffee. Determined, I poured coffee into my mug every morning enjoying the nutty warm flavor, knowing it would be gnawing at my gut later on. I refused to let it make a difference. After reading so many articles on the benefits of coffee, it was near to impossible for me to conceive the notion it was doing me harm. It had to get to the point where fear griped me about what would happen later that day to get me to stop filling the coffee maker with scoops of the processed cocoa beans.
Slowly and painfully I let these things I love leave me and go into the great beyond–well, figuratively anyway. Husband still has coffee every morning using one of those one mug coffee makers. I am using the bigger coffee maker for hot water. The dream of moving still exists in me but I do not allow it audience nearly as often. I am learning to deal with and live in the here and now.
Have you given up something you love? If so, how much of a struggle was it?
“Incredible change happens in your life when you decide to take control of what you do have power over instead of craving control over what you don’t.” ― Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free