Monday, March 9, 2009

Moving On

When we fall, as we always do, we pick ourselves up and start again. And when our trust is betrayed the only response that is not destructive is to trust again. Not stupidly, you understand, but fully aware of the facts, we still have to trust.
- Dr. Austin in The Young Unicorns by Madeleine L'Engle

I would think that I've had enough people betray my trust in serious ways that I would learn to cope. To reach for the grace that will allow me to move on and not wallow in the hurt. Somehow I still haven't learned that not moving on will hurt me more in the end than the original betrayal of trust.

Perhaps it is something in me that is susceptible to that wallowing in abject hurt, that does not allow me to remember how to laugh in the face of what, in the end, was not meant as anything personal. I extended the trust, I felt the hurt, I will pick myself up and not trust quite the same way again. The sun still shines on us all, and I very much doubt that the other person even realizes that a trust has been broken.

Today I learned to move on yet again. I let the wind play with my hair and laughed as it skittered around me. I let the sun warm my face and the flowers just starting to peek out bring a smile. I made the choice to not let this disillusionment destroy anything but my illusions.

It feels good to laugh.


DebD said...

Those lessons are so hard and painful to learn. God bless as you move on.

(I'm a former Society page person)

Anonymous said...

I don't now why I found this today - I've not looked at your blog before, but I clicked over tonight from an old Daybook list-serve post. . . and this post(and your previous one)were exactly what I needed to see tonight.

Part of the hurt is the grieving, I think, and it's hard to move forward without the hurt -and an acknowledgment of the grief - happening first. Hurting, all, that's what grief is, I think. . . whether the other person knows or cares is almost incidental.

The good (?) news is that through experience, we know it will be over. . . eventually.