I've had time to reflect on some of the morals my parents attempted to set in my heart while I was growing up. My dad always told me to image the day I die, being presented with a video of flashback clips of my whole life, then being sent to judgement. What he basically says to me is, spend every day like everyone is watching. My mom, on the other hand, always told me to never hate.
I'm not sure why these two things seem to pop out in my memory so much. Maybe it's the fact that these are the two absolute hardest things to live by.
If you watched my every move and heard my every thought, you probably would shake your head a few times. You might think "Why is she still thinking about that?". or.. "Why does she keep waiting for something to happen, but does nothing about it?" Don't get me wrong though, my good thoughts out weigh my bad ones.
On the other hand... The lesson my mom tried to teach me didn't fully sink in. It is true, I've never hated anyone. I have, although, hated the things people have done. Hated them so bad that I couldn't eat because my stomach was empty and cold. A feelings of anger and disappointment sinking into the bottom of my tummy.
It's okay to mess up. It's alright to think bad things about people. We are just human.
Just trying my hardest to be humble to everything that life throws at me.