changing poison into medicine was the term the last blog used to talk about changing the past, in one’s mind, from a source of suffering, to a force for positive change.
Since i’m the historian of my own history, i’m the one writing history. the telling of history powerfully creates its influence on the future. is that not a major function of the past? to influence the future? and, since, to the past, even the present is the future, influencing the future means influencing the present.
In this way, we can see, the dissolution of the differences among past, present, and future. they are continuous, chronologically, but, taken a step further past, present and future seem to loose their differences, and become one ball of time.
but i digress. i thought of another example of changing the past and what it can do for one’s mind and outlook and, therefore, spirit. changing the past is a game on a vast personal panorama that anyone can play.
i’ve been playing the game of changing the past and having fun with it when i regard my relationship with my mother. I would have liked an easier time of feeling grateful for my mother.
I know that for my own sake, let alone anyone else’s sake, the importance of feeling gratitude for my mother is inestimably important. persons in my family have been against my efforts to feel grateful for her. they have wanted me to join their ‘i hate mom’ club’. my refusal to join has caused friction and has made my path towards gratitude almost as difficult as is theirs.
Yet this family influence has itself modified, and is a source of comfort to said mother. So, now, shedding its influence should be even easier, and perhaps it is. that’s another issue.
time is helping me in this quest of mine to shower my mother with my heart grateful enough for my own life that i see that my gratitude for my own life must necessarily include gratitude for hers.
in this pursuit. time is helping me. my mother is still alive at the age of ninety five, bless her longevity, and thus time has sandpapered away the sharpness of her feelings for others, including me.
Her hearing is less than acute so if she can’t make out what my voice is telling her, she tells me, adding,”but i’m sure you’re right.” her sense of humor is still sharp, so can be her tongue, but her severity and harshness are gone.
i say “thank you” to her a lot more, and she seems gratified. i, too, am more gratified for the hard times that grew my familiarity with suffering and unhappiness and thus the ability to be as happy as i was miserable. the contrast, the comparison, give me a range that not everyone is privy to.
i can laugh at my previous misfortunes because now they are so trifling compared to the richness of inner resources that only overcoming difficulties achieves.
i can positively influence others who are suffering, assuring them that the future can be better, listening to their tales of woe with understanding and compassion.
But i need a lot of work on this point. perhaps the work i need to do has to do with changing the past. i hope so. changing the past, all of a sudden, seems easier than changing myself as if i sprang, newly hatched, from a shell.