All That We Don't Leave Behind

or "Hints, Allegations, And Things That Would Have Been SO MUCH BETTER Left Unsaid"

Sometime after high school age, I guess, one becomes aware that one cannot simply shed ones past like some far-too-restrictive snake skin. The lessons that are offered (and, ideally, LEARNED) from our pasts can become part of the formula with which we conduct ourselves in the future. Telling a child "the stove is hot" means nothing until they touch it and realize that "hot" means that "the strange silvery box-thing will burn me". Telling a teen not to drink means very little until they experience their first hangover and think (painfully and quietly think) "hmmm, actually this ISN'T cool ... and I really don't remember eating THAT."

I'm not saying these lessons don't require reinforcing from time to time. I'm saying just the opposite, actually ... and, for me anyway, it's that reinforcing that causes the biggest heartache, even today.

These ghosts from lessons past that return upon occasion serve as reminders of what was being taught ... or to keep us from making the same mistakes ... or to serve up a niiiiice big steaming plate of humility and humbleness, also known as "crow".

Yummmm, crow. Don't forget to add a little touch of self-loathing with that ... because crow tastes just oh so much better with just that extra dash of self-administered flog. Oh, and pass the lemon pith, would ya'? *munch* *munch* After all this time, I find that I almost don't mind the taste of the stuff.

So, adding to my "things I just don't understand", I guess I need to include something along these lines:
When the ghosts of lessons past come ahauntin', what exorcise puts them to rest permanently?

Because a few of my demons really need to learn recipes that DON'T include crow. And I wouldn't mind if they just didn't come visit at all, honestly.