A Chance To Let Go

The longer you hold on the harder it is to let go.

...

It wasn't the ice cream.

I just wanted to clear that up. For those of you not at my house, something happened last night and Esther snapped. Everyone in my family thinks it's because I couldn't have ice cream. Let's face it, that's a really petty reason to go silent (aka - clench my teeth, shut my mouth, and glare at everyone. Esther's version of an angry outburst). And I'm not that petty, so it wasn't the ice cream. 

But I can understand why everyone may think it was the ice cream. It was when I found I couldn't have the ice cream that everyone else realized I wasn't happy, but it wasn't the ice cream that made me unhappy. It was the dinner that I'd cooked for my sister instead of curling up on the couch because my body was aching. It was the letter I needed to write before the day was over even though I really wasn't in an inspired writing mood. It was the friend who'd come over, but neglected to tell me so I wasn't around to visit. It was the moment around noon when I'd wanted to make ice cream for my family since they'd been out in the sun all morning, but they weren't home and I had to leave. It was the couple hours at work when I'd been aching all over and nauseas but had to keep working because things had to get done and I was the only one who could do them. It was just life being a little harder than usual. And I wasn't even unhappy. I really wasn't! You must believe me. I was worn out. I felt sick. And I guess I just didn't realize it. And if I can't realize when I'm worn out, I really can't expect anyone else to realize when I'm worn out. 

That's one problem with me. Even when I'm worn out and really ought to be sleeping, I generally find something else I'd rather be doing, so I just keep pushing myself to keep going. I wanted to make dinner for my family. I wanted it to be delicious, healthy, and filling. I wanted it to include ice cream ;) I also wanted to write that letter, just maybe not that day. And I wanted to work and make sure that everyone got their t-shirts on time. I also wanted their t-shirts to look good. So I wanted to keep working.

And I wanted ice cream. Friends, you have no idea how much I wanted ice cream. I was going to make the ice cream, and then curl up on the couch in comfort while I ate it. That was my plan. So, after dinner was eaten I went to the freezer to discover that the key ingredient was missing. A few days before there had been just enough milk ice cubes to make the ice cream. When I got to the freezer they were gone. There was only enough for a one person batch of ice cream. 

And that is when I made a mistake. I made it all about the ice cream. I made an enormous fuss about the fact that I couldn't make ice cream and while my family made and enjoyed an orange julius, I curled up on my bed and cried. Half an hour later I roused myself enough to sit on the couch and begin writing the letter - the last thing on my list that day. Sitting on the couch in sullen silence I thought about the ice cream. That's when I realized I had a choice. In my mind I could see the choice very clearly. This could have been a turning point in my evening. I'm not sure how to describe it, but in that moment when I contemplated letting go of the anger it was a very real possibility. I was laughing at how ridiculous and petty I had been. I had realized that this was a stupid way to receive gratitude for my efforts. But I also thought I had a reason to be mad and I wasn't quite ready to give that up. I could have let go of the anger and frustration I felt and realized that the ice cream really wasn't worth ruining my night over, but I felt justified in my anger. I felt like all the things I'd done for my family had gone unnoticed and unrecognized and that the only way to get noticed was to remain mad about the ice cream. So I did. I remember thinking that if it was such a simple choice to let go then a few minutes or maybe an hour I would be able to make the choice to let go and move on with life. 

Twelve hours later, I realized the unfortunate truth. Somehow, I didn't have the same ability to let go of the anger that I'd had the night before. Sleeping on it hadn't helped. Crying into my pillow had done nothing. Rejecting my family's offers to prep the frozen milk for the next ice cream batch is probably the most stupid thing I'd done, and it hadn't helped me feel better either. I woke up this morning even more frustrated than I'd been before. I tried so hard to let go this morning, but every time I saw my family they reminded me of the ice cream. The ice cream that had never been the problem, but the ice cream that I now could not get away from.

And it's worse knowing that I could have prevented 16 hours of grumpiness had I let go when I had the chance. Not only was I grumpy, but I managed to make my entire family feel guilty about the lack of ice cream. That was on me, not anyone else. 

My little piece of advice is simply this: if you have the chance to move on, take it. If you realize you don't need to hold on to the frustration, sadness, and pride you've been carrying around, then don't. If there's a moment when you have a clear choice to let go or hold on, then take that chance and let go. You don't know when the next chance might come, and it's impossible to anticipate all the ways holding on to negativity will affect your future. Take this advice from someone who will now be repairing family relationships for weeks to come. Take this from someone who will remember this experience every time she eats ice cream. Take this from someone who feels like a complete idiot. Trust me, holding on isn't worth it.

Last week I told you I'd decided to quickly remove the next rock that came my way. This experience wasn't the very next rock, but it was close. If anything, this is the perfect example of why it's really not a good idea to walk down a hill with a rock in your boot. It also shows that I've got a long way to go since apparently my tendency is to stubbornly refuse to let go. I guess I'll just have to keep trying.