Why does the past have such a strong hold on me? Why do I hold on to something long gone, long finished, or someone who should be long forgotten? Why do negative ties to the past bind me so tightly, even hold me back? Why can I not break free from those bonds?
When the children I teach come to me in distress about personal hurts caused by friends and I attempt to mediate or ease their sadness, I always clench my hands then open them palm up and say “Don’t hold on to the bad feelings. Let them go”.
If I were to hold a butterfly cupped in my hands and open them, the butterfly would take its beauty and fly away.
Why can I not let the butterflies of the past fly free?