Dear Guilt

Today I am dreaming. I am trying to decipher the Wants between the Shoulds. I filter every decision I make through what I think I should do, or what I think everyone else thinks I should do. And although a lot of the time I end up doing what I want to do regardless of whether it lines up with what I think everyone expects of me, I end up feeling guilty for not living up to their supposed expectations.

Guilt is like bitterness, it is not meant to stay in our hearts longer than the time it takes to say

I’m sorry

or

I forgive you.

So...this is addressed to the shadow named Guilt:

I’m sorry not to tell you this in person, but the truth of the matter is that I don’t know where you live. If you appeared to me plainly then I would address you to your face, but you are transient and incessant, a chameleon of a ghost that shows up in my words and actions, in my wake and my sleep, and I can’t detect you the way I can jealousy or sloth. You don’t follow me around like nostalgia or selfishness. You are the wall between me and my tomorrows, the widows clothes I should have taken off years ago, the childs blanket I am afraid of falling asleep without. So, dear guilt: this is me tearing you off like a band aid- please don’t come back next time I have a wound. There is a much better way to heal, and I choose grace.