We spend our lives learning how to rationalize our imperfect behavior, but let me tell you something: It all boils down to the three sizes of guilt.
When it is small, we can slip it into our pocket and not think about it for the rest of the day. Didn’t do your exercises? Or write that letter to your mother? Make the call? Fix the nice soup for the family you had planned? Screw it—the day was hard enough and you did your bit.
Medium-sized guilt doesn’t fit into the pocket and must be carried awkwardly in the hand like an iron barbell or, when it’s really bad, a squirming live animal. We know it’s there every minute, yet still find ways to lessen or shift our discomfort. Having an affair and aren’t so nice to your spouse because you’re spending too much energy on this new love? Go buy the old love some obscenely expensive, thoughtful gift and what time you do spend together, be so passionate and concerned about them that you glow in the dark.
Large sized guilt either crushes you or bends you so far to the ground that, either way, you’re immobilized. No shifting *this* weight and no getting out from under it. — Jonathan Carroll
Love never dies. Hope springs eternal. The one thing we should have learned by now is to put a seat belt around our heart. The road is dangerous but we never put the damned seat belt on. — Jonathan Carroll