Courage of Convictions . . .

Or so I thought . . .

. . . then one of my short-comings rears it's ugly head. I've always vowed to be true to the courage of my convictions. I don't know where this need comes from. Self-protection perhaps ... to thine own self be true ... skepticism ... to look strong ... 

I had a long, non-stop conversation this morning with a woman whom I will dub my "soul buddy". We never seem to lack for anything to talk about, anything under the sun! We get off on tangents, but each tangent leads to lessons if one pays attention. (Never mind that I was getting high on the chocolate donuts she brought :))). 

Getting back to what I call the courage of convictions . . . IE: the need to be right maybe? If a person has gone through something and really does have the answer, is said person better off to just not argue? Would I be giving up something of my self? Does that make me less of a person? Would I be a traitor to my true "self"? I realize that there are some people who just can't accept, for their own reasons, that someone else might be right. This is where I run into trouble ... like every one else, I want to be admired and respected, but is it worth the fight?

No.

UNLESS it involves their well-being. Then I will fight to the death! But, through all of my debacles of the past 4 years, beginning in '07, I should have learned and practiced what I preach ... do NOT "sweat the small stuff", and it's all small stuff. Our lives are a spit in the bucket. My friend verbalized my thoughts, but hearing her say it made it stick: I don't always have to be right, but I need to feel safe. No one else cares about me more than I. So I can give up my right to be right if I know the other person respects who I am, where I came from, and what I want to accomplish. If I don't have that assurance, then what else is there. And I, in turn, will give that to them. I would anyway. It's part of me.

I've earned who I am, and so have they. We are the sum total of all that has gone before, and everything that has happened with me has been at my own hand. I let it happen. The same can be said for everyone else, so who am I to say they're wrong about something. Their lessons have taught them differently. So my lips are zipped.

I am humbled . . .