Stewing

A few visits ago, my acupuncturist talked about the energy that it takes to live as a victim. I cringed inwardly as he spoke the words and thought to myself, well this isn't Patti Digh's insightful acupuncturist, is it?! For a week, I laughed that he had even brought that concept up in my presence. A victim? I'm not a victim. Well, I have been, but I've moved on, of course.

During the next week I began to sit with the idea a little more. It is true that there are a lot of stories from my past that I spend time with. I pull them out like party tricks to make people laugh and distract their attention from me. Slowly, I started to accept that perhaps his comment was not just a random statement uttered in my presence.

Over the last few days, I've admitted that I do often hide behind these stories from my past. I could use opportunities to tell these stories as a way to move through them and past them. Instead, I weave these tales and memories into the protective clothes that I wear daily.

I do not want to walk through my days as a victim. I choose to change the way that I present myself and my life to the world. These stories are a part of who I am, but they are not all that I am. And tonight, as I ate a delicious dish of gluten free duck breast and risotto, this all seemed simple and clear.  Perhaps this clarity came from the three weeks that have passed since I was first handed the idea. I admit that it is also possible that this newly acquired understanding simply came from my glass of Chianti.