This morning, I was in an elevator at the temp agency that hired me and I found a nicotine patch on the floor. As any who know me well (or even if you read the title) could guess, I picked it up and put it in my pocket. It is still in my left front pocket as I am typing this. It has been there for almost 10 hours.
The main question is why? Why did I pick it up? Why did it go in my pocket? Why is it still there now, when I have had numerous opportunities to throw it away?
The answer is very simple: I don’t know. I have no use for it (it’s also a prescription drug, technically; kids don’t take someone else’s prescription). I am not one of those people who automatically picks up litter when they see it. I am, however, a collector of random junk.
It has been this way as long as I can remember, and probably before as well. I can imagine a confused doctor wondering how the baby he just delivered came to be clutching a ball of twine. Although I do not remember it, one of my parents had to pull me out of oncoming traffic because I saw a really neat stick in the middle of the road. For a few years I had a favorite comb that I just so happened to have found in a parking lot.
We have come to the point of the post where you ask: What is he talking about and what it does it have to do with life? To which I reply: You’ve got some nerve, buddy.
My point is that just like the random stuff I pick up, our lives can be full of random things that we don’t really need. Maybe it’s a bad habit, or an old hurt that just won’t go away, or something you did a long time ago that you have yet to forgive yourself for. Chances are that in someway or another, the pockets of your heart contain some worthless, harmful crap that need to be gotten rid of. (That was a metaphor, but while we are close to the topic go get your cholesterol checked)
If there is stuff in your life that is dragging you down, get rid of it. It way be awkward, painful, or gross, but in the end will be worth it.
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