A tradition is a habit that we’re loath to break, a memory that our hearts continue stubbornly to make. It is our continuity, our chain link to the past. We make a resolution that it’s always going to last.
And yet our lives must segue to what future we might grow. We cannot drag the past with us wherever we may go lest it become a ball and chain that keeps us from what may be an opportunity that may come our way.
Traditions are so comforting. They deal with what has been. They make tiny departures seem a sort of sin, but sometimes they just hold us back, keep us from being free, and we must let loose of tradition to see what we can be.
Revenge can be tradition and one that’s hard to break, causing backward facing hearts to fester and to ache. As hard as it may be for us to turn around and heal, it’s the only course that may enable us to feel.
When we peel away tradition, it gives hearts room to grow. We plant seeds of new memories and tend them row on row. The garden of our consciousness so fertile and so vast that there is room for new traditions as alluring as the past.
I want everything to last forever. When I buy a television, I don’t expect to ever buy another one. I will keep using the old one until it simply won’t work anymore … or someone gently tells me that I really need a new one. “Oh,” I say, “But I just bought this one.” “You […]