holding grudges

Holding a grudge takes at least one hand—unless you stick it under your elbow and pin it to your body, in which case it leaves you walking around with one chicken elbow.

Holding a grudge takes focus, even if only a little, the low level reminder in the back of your head that you need to keep your left hand free. 

You may convince yourself to set the grudge down for just a bit. Stash it on your desk, or on a shelf, or in a corner of the garage. But even then it’s taking up space. Maybe not your hand, but still your mind. 

Or maybe you could think of the grudge like a library book—a book that’s been placed on hold, by request, a hold that is now ready to be honored, and then returned. 

Returned not because the grudge wasn’t warranted, but simply because you’d rather have empty hands and a clear mind.

Thank you. Let’s have a great day.