Resetting the fracture

I did something last night I should have done long ago, but was too proud, too stubborn, too damn complex to do until now. I had many qualms heading up to it, I doubted it was the right thing to do and feared the response, but once I did it I knew I was right, and the consequences seemed secondary to having done something true and authentic. Funny how often that happens.
I find myself feeling released. I’m one of those people that reckon you’re better off doing something rather than nothing, being ballsy and bold, and no regrets, but the theory is a lot easier than the practice. But here I am having pulled the trigger and I’ve rid myself of that obligation. I don’t know what will come of it. If I were a betting man I’d suggest that very little will happen and my arrow will miss its mark, but I’m cool with that (right now). It resolves something at the very least.

That probably contributes to my state of mind today. I’m pretty breezy and frank. I went out for coffee this morning, exchanged the usual quips with the barista, then went searching for the sausage roll I craved. I went far and wide, inside Melbourne Central and out in the street, the sun shining, the trams rattling by, students and workers lining up for coffee or heading off to class or office.

I wended my way between them on my futile quest. My mind was bright, active. Briefly I reflected on some of the things I’ve been contemplating the last few weeks, the stuff I wrote of yesterday. I recalled something I’d read that Prince Harry had said. He was last week to much fuss and bother, a good bloke I’d happily share a beer with, and an authentic soul. In the interview he’d mentioned how he had sought help for his state of mind. He explained how in the years since his mother died when he was twelve he had held the grief in and never processed it. Much like me he took the decision that ‘right, don’t ever let your emotions be part of anything’. He describes how it led to a fight or flight response in him, which I can relate to also.

All that resonated with me as I read it, but I took comfort knowing that – of course – I wasn’t unique, and what I had experienced was not unreasonable.

As I walked down Little Lonsdale street today I thought that I just healed crooked, for those reasons. When that happens there’s only one thing you can do if you want to get right – you have to reset the fracture. I figure that’s the process I’m in. The good news is that I diagnosed it before it became permanent. All going well in time I’ll heal straight.

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