Rules
and I
have a
love-hate
relationship.
Here’s the thing.
I used to follow every rule everywhere in every which direction.
I did.
It was very safe.
And stifling.
And exhausting.
Until,
somewhere along the way, I realized
I didn’t even know myself.
In fact, there didn’t seem to be much of a me. Just a big confusing tangle of rules.
Which is when I started breaking them.
Breaking free.
It’s been a process.
I still have a hard time
going in the out door
sometimes.
But I also can get
a little riled up
if someone
throws a rule at me.
Just today
I broke another
pretty *big* rule
while I was with
Miss Sarah.
Actually a really big one.
And I didn’t end up in jail. Or hell.
But also just today,
believe it or not,
I implemented
a few new rules
for myself.
By choice.
And although I still
tense up
at the word “rules,”
this feels different.
This time, I’m choosing it.
I’m using it.
I’m putting up some boundaries
that can help me achieve a goal
that I haven’t been able to reach
on my own.
Or I’m at least giving it a shot.
Is that cryptic?
Crazy?
Or is it
just what
it is
for today?
__
Photo taken at Gold Rush Days 2010
by julie rybarczyk
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