Of love and dreams to share. (Day 7)

And behind door number seven we find… poison. (Hey, I never said they would all be harmless little surprises, did I?)

While walking down the street this morning, I came upon a discarded flyer with the heading, “How Toxic Are You?” And though I have no idea what the flyer was referring to (that was the only part I read as I walked by), it got me to thinking… Just how toxic am I? And what does that mean, exactly?

Are we talking about being toxic in terms of having a toxic effect on the world and those around us?

I mean, it sucks to even consider the possibility that I might be seen as “toxic” to some of the people in my life, or in some of my relationships. But at least that’s something I ultimately have control over.

Or are we talking about, god forbid, the extent to which I've absorbed toxins in my life?

In other words, the extent to which I’ve allowed the toxins of others to enter and affect me. And here’s the thing about toxins: they just keep building and building inside the body, until they reach fatal levels. And we all know what happens then.

So if I really think about it, and am really honest, there have definitely been times in my life where I’ve been truly poisonous. It’s sick, and doesn’t make me proud, but it’s the reality. And I think we’ve all been there at one time or another.

Even more shameful, though, are the instances in which I’ve willingly swallowed the poison of others, thinking I had no choice. Thinking, it’s a bitter pill to swallow, but suck it up. Someone’s got to swallow it.

But see, the thing is, we always have a choice. Though we may not be able to control the actions of others, we sure as hell can control our response them. We can’t control whether what they put out there is poisonous, but we certainly can decide whether we let it into our blood.

Anyway, I hope that my answer to the question, either way it’s posed, would be “Not very.” I think that it is.