Guilt spelled backwards is still guilt

I've been thinking about guilt a lot lately.
If you haven't figured it out yet, this is not a funny post. Beware ye, all who enter here.
When you feel guilt, you twist it around and shake it, drop it on it's hind end,
and it's still there.

You say, "It's not bad," or "It's their fault," or "It doesn't matter I should just forget it" ("IT" is involved a lot with guilt). But, it hangs around anyway.

This didn't start with my own guilt, actually, but thinking about other people's guilt.

On Saturday I took Amaya around and tried to make a whole girls hanging together (GHT) morning, and on the way to the North Shore to get acai bowls, we hit some traffic. In Hawaii stand still traffic means wave scoping, or accident, big accident. Traffic was moving through one lane only and took a while. When we got through I saw a car, a bike, and a bike kid trailer. Guess which ones were smashed up really badly.

Police were everywhere and areas roped off, and the woman in the car was sitting there, in her car.

My thoughts kind of bounced through hoping kids were not in the trailer (there were) and feeling terrible for all parties involved. Over the next couple of days I looked through the news articles about it on-line and found one article where people could comment on the story.
Really, why I was so focused on this one accident is the mysterious working of humanity. Tragedies can only be let in to weigh on the mind so much. There are so many things I think of that press my heart or sicken me and make me feel very helpless in regards to the wrongs in the world.

Before I read through the comments on the story I had been thinking about the woman who hit that mother and her two children and how completely awful (really, a word worse than awful, but what that word is, I don't know) she must be feeling about what she had done. And she will have to live with that for the rest of her life, even if all three of those people live.
The comments on the story were surprisingly hateful to the driver. Maybe I should have found it unsurprising. Everyone seemed to think this woman was a total idiot in expletives (maybe she was) and should be locked away forever.

I don't know. I had a hard time feeling that way. I don't think I can even imagine the guilt this woman must be feeling. She was probably putting on makeup, talking on her cell phone, eating, changing the radio dial or any number of things that complacent drivers tend to do. I myself have done all of those things while driving (except put on makeup since I don't wear it).
Certainly what is happening to that poor family is terrible. No one questions that. Still, it's hard for me to put an accident in the same category as someone who willfully harms another person.
The miscreant, sociopath, and/or criminal is less prone to guilt. Less likely to admit it. Less likely to even be caught, than the person who mistakenly harms another person and who must immediately deal with the consequences of their actions.

This whole train of thought made me consider the guilt I feel and have felt. It's a hard thing to shake. I don't really buy into the idea that guilt is only associated with sin or even when it is because of sin that it leaves completely when you are forgiven. He probably tells us to forgive one another because He knows that we have to deal with each other and ourselves in the more immediate sense. The idea of forgiveness is even more important for us with this world.

I think God is more forgiving than mortals.

Cutie

Me: "You are such a cutie, aren't you?"

Amaya: "I not an orange!"

Me: *laughing* "You're not?"

Amaya: "DON'T PEEL ME!"

To Be Adored

Jake certainly has built up a reputation for himself on Valentine's Day. I consider V-day to be similar to our anniversary, since that's our first kiss--restaurant and a movie--bring me flowers anniversary.

Every year (if nature allows) Jake secretly picks me some nun orchids. Nun orchids are hard to find, except at this time of year and except from Kahana.

You'd think I'd catch on by now, when he was doing this.

This year he had Amaya, which is why I didn't expect it, and neither did she. I guess the whole time they were tromping around in the bushes she was pleading, "I wanna go home, Daddy. I wanna go home."

He also drew me a very flattering (if I may say so) picture, and even Amaya identified it correctly. So if I ever lose 10 more pounds my family will most certainly still recognize me.

I thought I should point out what I did for Jake this Valentine's Day, because he is not the only romantic one in the family.

1. I stayed in the bedroom and left Amaya and he alone in the early morning so they could spend some quality time together.

2. I blogged about my students and edited pictures so he could plan and get ready for a barbecue at Kahana.

3. I made some french toast for myself and allowed him to have a couple of pieces.

4. I surfed at Kahana so he could make hamburgers and keep Amaya warm as it was extremely windy.

5. I allowed him to take me to a movie I wanted to see, and then run and get the car to pick me up so we would not be late for our dinner reservation.

6. I bought myself a dress just for the occasion, and we all know a good look at me is romance at its finest.

7. I graciously let him eat half of his own dessert and a few bites of mine.

8. I let him drive, so he would feel like a man.

9. I gave him an ipod shuffle so he wouldn't have to use mine anymore.

Isn't Jake such a lucky guy?

Bad Mood Medicine

1. Beat the level you've hated with the depths of your soul.

2. Weigh yourself to find you've lost 1/2 a pound.

3. Wear your favorite shirt

4. Watch the new FOTC video

Bad Moods are so Difficult to Keep Up

I was woken up by a very well meaning person who was preparing the room for her sweet, elderly mother who is coming to visit today. Why does she think she needs to get the room ready? I mean, just because everyone's been in a big hurry to get the room redone after the flooding disaster and having to deal with the ripped up floor and mounds of stuff? I got up and decided to exercise, so I promptly got out my Nintendo DS to beat a level I could not get past 2 days ago, despite 9,000 tries, and sat on the chair. After 5,000 more tries I unclenched my furious fingers and put it down for later. Jake had to go to help the young women hike so I had to stay home and watch Amaya, and I was annoyed about it even though he was doing service, and I was going to be able to actually have some time with Amaya.
Amaya was hungry, so kept opening the fridge, and I was mad at her about that so she went in time out about 20 times. I mean, 2 year olds should know by now that the only thing I have in the fridge that she even cares about eating is cheese.
While Amaya ate 2 pieces of string cheese I checked my blogs and let her make a mess of the house. Then I became annoyed that she was making a mess and even more annoyed that she refused to help me clean it up. Hence 10 more time outs.
Then I decided to exercise again, and Amaya insisted on also putting on exercise clothes, but got mad at me when I put in P90x in the DVD player instead of Toy Story 2, and I was doing the warm up when Jake walked in.
I started to tell him how I was having such a bad day, especially the part about how I was concerned about my now sore and metallic tasting (for the last 2 days) mouth and spent hours on the internet looking up my symptoms only to find out that I either have cancer or heart failure or possibly cold sores, all of which are depressing, and he started to close the door on my ranting because he had been holding his pee for an hour already. The NERVE.
I turned off P90x and said I was going to run to Cackle Fresh for vegetables and eggs. Right after I walked out the door I walked back in to get the car key, because I'm not walking back with a bunch of eggs in my hands.
But Cackle Fresh is CLOSED, for some "emergency", or so it says on the sign.
So I come back home and tell Jake I'm going to exercise, and I look around for my yoga mat. I can't find it, and Jake says it's on the porch. He even goes to get it for me.
I'm going to eat lunch, I say. I make myself a sandwich, despite my no carb resolution for today (the 2nd of the day), and cut open the very squishy avocado. But it's a farce! Only the skin is squishy. The avocado itself is as hard as a rock. I try to eat it anyway, and I bite into egg tasting rubber on my second bite.
Then one of my nursery workers calls to tell me that she can't do the lesson tomorrow, and I can't do the lesson because I'm also primary pianist as of last week, but I'm supposed to take care of it because her son is sick. Sheesh.
I sat down prepared to beat that level and I beat the level, but die on the next, so I have to restart at the previous level. I beat my chest like Donkey Kong. I looked up techniques on how to beat the level and could not figure out why the results wouldn't show up, even though I searched through every result it pulled up, and after 20 minutes realized I was writing "Donkey King vs. Mariko" instead of "Donkey Kong vs. Mario."
I find it insulting to be a 'k" away from a squat Italian painter with a bad moustache. Plus, he has the worst jumping skills.
I finally start reading essays, since I have 50 left in my stack, and I throw them down after the first one and say, "Why do these essays SUCK?!" I mean, describe and define are totally different types of essays!
Sometimes, I just hate myself for hating everything, but I still can't help it.
And people who are not in bad moods always say, "Go exercise" or "Must be PMS" or they try to be nice to me or tell me to snap out of it.
Those people should be shot.