It’s interesting how anger must be nursed in order to sustain over time. Time and attention must be paid to its cultivation. It must be nurtured. A 53-year-old woman told me last night that she has finally learned to love her mother without destroying herself. 53.
We can be lousy with regret. Flay ourselves with our victimization. And why? This is what memory is for: to learn from our pain. Learn. Not nurture.
Write a letter to the river. Watch it sail.