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One of the best parts of aging is perspective. I was thinking yesterday about how sometimes--many times--doing the right thing is difficult and painful. This is even true when trying to do the right thing for yourself.

Like letting go.

This week, though, has been a bit of a struggle for me. A younger version of me would have caved to the sinking feelings and succumbed to the internal message that something was wrong with me for not being able to see something--a relationship, a project, an idea--through to the bitter end.

Instead, I am well aware of the feelings raging within and willing to let them roar up from time to time in a wave of anxiety over my body, tears in the corners of my eyes, or a far off look into the unseen world. I'm still unsure of what the future holds at the moment. I'm not quite completely decided about what action to take next...or not at all.

I am willing to let the thoughts run through my head with the knowledge that they will eventually find a home in my head. I am willing to be still. If I've learned anything, it's that tomorrow and the following months and years will take care of themselves as they unfold.

Perhaps this is a byproduct of going through a divorce and being forced to carve out a new life for myself. Maybe it's just the years of experience of gains and losses under my belt. Then again, this may just be part of the process of growing.

It's scary and painful and very raw right now. It just *is*. I've shared before that one of my favorite parts of the Spanish language is the two different verbs for "to be"--one describes temporary situations; the other is for permanent descriptions.

So for now, I am (estoy) temporary...and when the sorting is complete, I will again be (ser) permanent.

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