I’ve misplaced my willingness to forgive. I am cynical. I have thought for many years that forgiveness is the key to everything, but I’ve come to believe that willingness is the cornerstone. I didn’t just decide this.
In my everyday life I am lazy. About everything. I want no responsibility. For myself or anyone or anything else.
Like my mother before me, I want only to retire to my chair, with the television for background noise. Forever. I no longer care about politics, or making plans, or having goals, or even going outside. I don’t twitter, or insta, or FB. I don’t want to expose myself to any possible hurt. I’ve had enough.
For the most part, I don’t trust in the goodness of others. It scares me to death that we can never really know what’s going on in another’s mind. I would be lost without the few friends I trust, who sustain me.
Each day I pray for the willingness to fall in love with life again. That has come to be my solution to life’s toughest roadblocks—willingness—and eventually it always comes. But the wait for willingness is uncomfortable. It requires faith.
I choose to be kind or not. To be loving or not. I choose to have hope and faith. I frequently fall short with my choices.
Forgiveness is the endgame.