Armistice Day

 I want to let you in on a gold-plated investment. And you don't have to pay a dime. It's my own private holiday, scheduled for March 17. That's right, tomorrow. No, not St. Paddy's Day, though I've got nothing against the wearin' of the green.

It's Armistice Day.

It's got nothing to do with the war in Iran, or any war, except my personal wars, your personal wars.

It's the day I forgive anyone any wrong they''ve done me in the past year. I lay down my sword and shield. I shed the weight of all those grudges.
Does this mean forgive and forget? No. To forget can be dangerous. You can let yourself in for further wrongs, further hurts.
But it does mean giving up playing those hurts over and over in your mind, indulging in revenge fantasies, crossing the street when you see them coming toward you.
It means shirking the work. Doesn’t that sound nice?
And you'll find it harder to form those grudges in the first place, knowing they've got an expiration date.

And here's a bonus: while you're forgiving that person who's hurt you, or forgiving the world that's wounded you, you can forgive yourself, too. Give yourself a break. Don't forget what you've done to hurt other people, you have to learn from your wrongs, so you don’t repeat them. But forgive. It doesn't help to beat yourself up.

Set down all that baggage. Straighten your back and move on down the road with your load lightened.
Armistice Day. Yeah, it's a thing.