"You need to care less," my girlfriend says finally after listening to me ramble on the phone.
Her candor leaves me momentarily speechless. I suddenly realize I've been venting. Traffic is horrible. I've been driving for two hours with my kid in the backseat and I'm still not home from work. My mood has been janky all week. To this set of circumstances, my wise friend interjects this truth ...
"No one else cares half as much. Why should you?"
I am quiet, wondering who else at this very moment could be stressing over the same things that have been weighing me down for months. I come up with one name - my mother's - and only because when I am stressed, she stresses over me (like all good mothers).
"Maybe you're right," I conclude, with a heavy sigh.
Could it be possible that the weight I've been carrying is self-inflicted? I'm exhausted of caring. It takes energy to care. It takes emotion, and mental space, and heart space and prayer time and tears. These and more I have given freely with nothing to show for the investment and nothing left to offer. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. Spiritually.
I've reached the end of my rope and I'm preparing to let go. Only I can't decide if it is harder to keep on caring, or to let go. Caring "too much" can be unhealthy. So maybe I could care less.
Easier said than done.