learn to use my past as compost

you know?

Spent several hours today writing out all my regrets, the lessons I learned from them, and the reasons that maybe things had to be the way they were in order for me to learn and grow…

I wrote and wrote, and then I wrote a forgiveness to myself, and I wrote that I release my regrets. I tore the pages out and fed them through the shredder. The ceremonial release of the past.

I know it isn’t that easy, though. I can’t purge the brain cells that hold the memory of those events, and regretting the past has just become a bad habit. To move on, I must actively intervene whenever I find myself now revisiting those memories. I must stop and say to myself, “I have already released that regret,” and replace it with a new thought. Also, when I catch myself thinking about what I should have done, I must replace it with thoughts of what I can do now.

My present life is full of many wonderful blessings that I can’t appreciate if I’m busy looking over my shoulder. My ISH can no longer be “I Should Have” but instead must become “I’m So Happy!” because there is no reason for me not to be.

Yes, I was once young and stupid. Let the mistakes and regrets of the past break down into compost to nurture the beautiful garden my life has since become.

The right time of year for this sort of goal.

I carry around too much baggage. I don’t know why. I let myself be bothered by things that happened years and years ago. It’s so silly.

I want to let go of the past and past mistakes or omissions. I think I will try to do it by creating a “Regrets” book. In it, I will write down an incident that bothers me, explaining in detail why it bugs me and/or what I regret about it. Then I will write down either how I can address it and fix it, if still possible; or, I will write down what I’ve learned from it that I can apply to future situations. When I’ve written it all out, I will conclude by writing something like, “I now forgive myself for [fill in the blank], and I release my regrets.” I will then rip out the pages and put them through the shredder, and add them to our composter bin – that way, my past will both literally and figuratively become compost.

I found the lessons I had to learn, wasn’t easy but worth doing.

‘I must remember that my past is like compost: the most important parts have gone to make me what I am and the rest has broken down to wisdom and experience’

compost…nutrients, leftovers, recyclable rubbish

leading to something that nourishes, what a great idea

... making the best of the past by learning from it

I’m in the midst of saying goodbye to the elders I’ve been learning from and caring for this past winter. Many of them are dear to me. Professionalism demands that goodbye truly mean goodbye: no running back to visit and thereby undermine the new student rabbi. Yesterday was the first big wave of it, since next visit is the dreaded “last visit.”

This morning I woke up feeling AWFUL. Several chronic health issues seemed all to have bloomed at once. I called in sick to school and spent most of the day in bed, reading a little, mostly sleeping, drinking lots of water.

Finally it dawned on me, when I looked at the calendar here on my computer: my beloved grandmother died 33 years ago yesterday. Her loss knocked me off my 19 year old feet, and I still miss her very much.

It didn’t take rocket science to connect point A and point B.

How to compost this? Same way I have for years and years. Remember that she’d be proud of the work I’m doing (she loved to spend time with older people, too, even though she never really got to BE one, dying at 67.) Be a good person, and let her memory be for a blessing.

Take two insights, and get up in the morning and go about my business.

I had my second date in 24 hours with this very nice fella; he came over and we played guitar and sang from Rise Up Singing. He asked me when I learned to play guitar; I thought back and told him the story of the ex who taught me guitar and then dumped me. But as I was telling him it occurred to me how learning to play guitar had really changed my life – I started singing regularly, had a goal for a while of writing and performing folk music (may never happen, but still), and generally learned quite a lot of stuff in the meantime.

And now I have a new friend to share it with! We’re basically at the same level (though I’m a little rusty), and it’s just great fun.

I do this, & it’s worth it.

oh, YEAH!!!!!

Moriel, thank you for a GREAT metaphor! I have to meditate on this one… the more I think about it, the better it gets.