A boss I had back in 2000 was fond of saying, “No good deed goes unpunished”.  I used to think he was cynical, negative, or just wrong.  Turns out he was right, about 80% of the time.  I’ll still keep doing what I do, because the 20% of good deeds being appreciated make the rest worth it.  Sort of like accepting heartbreak as a price tag for love, or the fine line between pleasure and intense pain. 

I own my role in the mistakes I’ve made.  I’m hopeful that one day, owning my role will turn into changing the way I approach things or people. 

A friend of mine has a mother who is fond of saying, in the most guilt-inducing way possible, “I give and I give and I give . . . ” and it’s probably followed by a long sigh.  I found myself feeling the same way on a number of levels.  If that’s truly the way I feel, then perhaps it’s time to stop giving so much, being so focused on the outside, and take care of the things I can actually care for.  Chances are, the people I am giving to don’t want what I am forcing down their throats.  An old relationship of mine taught me to look at the actions, not the words.  Actions, in my opinion, are the best indicator of what is really going on.  I get so passionate and caught up in what I think will help that I forget others may not want that kind of help, or be bowled over/silenced by my enthusiasm to “make it all better”.  It’s both a flaw and a strength for me.

A while back, Robey asked me if I was listening.  If I was hearing what was being said, even without words.  As usual, she was right.  I wasn’t listening. 

Simplicity is underrated.  A small house, friends who will stay with you and buy you ice cream, sending flowers to someone just because.  Slumber parties on school nights with two warm and snoring girls.  Farting labradors and long runs with just the sound of your feet and a nose full of pollen.  I’m happiest when I’m simple.  I need to remember that.