I Hate This!

I hate it when ...


I hate ... she's so ....


I hate .... they're disgusting.


According to Mirriam-Webster hate is an: 


intense hostility and aversion usually deriving from fear, anger, or sense of injury.


To me, hating someone or something is extreme. I can say that I dislike the taste of certain foods, but to say I have an intense hostility toward lima beans would be quite an exaggeration.


When I was first diagnosed with an autoimmune disease that destroys my joints, causes extreme pain and exhaustion, and has done irreparable damage to my body, I found myself saying, "I hate this!" Saying that I hated psoriatic arthritis was saying that I hated something about myself - an integral part of my being. Embodying the stress and anger of hatred only served to worsen my health. 


Hatred's tendrils wrapped around my patience, my sense of well-being, and choked my ability to enjoy or even participate in life. Working its way through my body, tension and pain increased. Reaching my brain, my thoughts and judgement clouded, as did my view of others. Seeing only what I couldn't do, and what others could, it wasn't long before my world became a very dark place.


Enter Perspective. Perspective comes in all shapes and sizes. It comes from a friend who extols the joys of funky canes and the usefulness of a set of wheels. It comes from kids who conjure games that require minimal movement on the part of the gloomy mama. It comes in the form of magazine clippings of spoons arriving in the mail. It offers proof that life goes on and is indeed worth living. It transforms pessimism into hopeful inspiration, darkness into light.


I hate that I can't ... became How can I...


I hate that everyone else is / can ... became What if I ...


I have that my body can't ... became How can I help my body ... 


In the movie Labyrinth, the main character, Sarah, hates the responsibility of babysitting her baby brother while her parents go out and hates her brother to the point of asking the goblin king to take him away. She seems not to care for the baby boy, the embodiment of love and compassion, until she realizes how hatred has blinded her. What a shift in perspective she experiences when Jarred does come and takes him away! Sarah journeys through a labyrinth of emotions before coming to the full realization of where her hatred has taken her.

It's not until she looks hatred in the eyes and denies it power that she gets her brother, her compassion, and her life back.

Living in a state of fear or anger does damage to the person holding the hatred and has no effect on the object of the hatred. To hate is to give anger and fear power over you. Hatred steals compassion. If you hate yourself, you can't have compassion for yourself. If you hate another, you can't have compassion for others. If you hate lima beans ... don't eat them. One last thought - if you were to look at the things, situations, or people in your life that you hate, and then let go of your hatred for them, what impact would it have on the objects of your hatred? On you?