Recently, I found out that my gut feeling about a friendship was spot on.  Several years ago I was betrayed by someone regarding a relationship I had with a man I cared for deeply.  I cringe just thinking about all the times I poured my heart out to this woman and I feel like such an idiot.

No matter how all flowers and butterflies we try to spin our world, we really need to listen to our respective guts.  And I take full responsibility for my role/naiveté in this disastrous chapter of my life.  It is not anyone’s fault.  I did this to myself, although maybe she was inadvertently doing me a favor.  Men don’t belong on pedestals.

Now, law of attraction-wise, religion-wise and otherwise, we all know that what you believe becomes your truth.  I ignored how  other people judged her because I was practicing and still try to  promote positive energy values, the kind that eventually lead to desires materializing.

It’s funny how new information erupts those memories.  In hindsight, you see it all clearly, how your actions contributed to the reality.  Why did I overshare?  My consequence was humiliation, embarrassment, isolation…the kind of stuff that heals with a new relationship and better friend choices.  Nobody died.

Reading Sunrise on the Reaping by Suzanne Collins was a wonderful way for me to escape the ruminating and relate to someone else’s decision making catastrophes based on their grim circumstances.   We know Haymitch’s story.  He is portrayed by Woody Harrelson in the Katniss Everdeen Hunger Games trio of movies.  We know he wins the games as a teen and we know he becomes a drunk to escape the horrors of this dystopian premise where children from the Districts are sent to fight to the death for the pleasure of a viewing audience and to commemorate a horrendous civil war.  This is supposedly the future of the United States of America.

The children (ages 12-18) are selected in a reaping ceremony on the 4th of July.  In Haymitch’s case, his selection does not come from the sorting jar and is basically, to him, unfair.  I mean, let’s face it, you care about him from the get-go.  He is a dutiful son and a loving boyfriend to a Covey girl.  He is trying to protect her when it happens.

So here’s the thing:  Suzanne Collins is a self-proclaimed army brat.  She grew up around the military and around conversations of war and destruction and so forth.  So there is a very sad tone to the novels, where people are living in poverty and seem to feel guilty for trying to steal a modicum of happiness.  People are basically, doomed.  And there is tremendous violence in these novels.  I am really not sure how she concocts all these different ways for people to die via weapons, poison, drone attacks, fire, et al.  Somehow she invents new scenarios that leave you completely grossed out.

The Coveys are the only group, a band of gypsy singers trapped in District 12 as we learned in Collins’ previous prequel, who resonate with New Age thinking – eternal life stuff, focusing on beauty, art, music, color, love, etc.

Haymitch Abernathy doesn’t really do that.  The whole time he thinks he will die.  He doesn’t expect to win and basically, keeps complaining about the situation he’s in, all while doing his best to protect others, to trust others.  He wants to be this person who acts in a way that his family and others can be proud of him.   And yet, he doesn’t think he can or will or, well, the inevitable happens.  He does end up killing a few kids.  No spoilers – he wins at the Hunger Games but he loses everything else.  His biggest fear manifests and everyone knows that fears win out in the end.  Is there a way to live without fear?  To commit to a belief system where only good things happen?  Not in Suzanne Collins’ Hunger Games world, unfortunately.

It’s tragic.  I didn’t cry for him because he quite literally goes on and on about the negative implications of his actions, he ends up allowing the negativity to defeat him and finally, he winds up hating himself.

The thing is – his gut is telling him all along what his heart wants to reject.  In the end, he spills his guts and we love him for it.  Great metaphor, Suzanne.

Lucky us in the real world with the power to choose.  Life is supposed to be fun and the whole point is to find what you like and do it.  If it is a family you want, if it is an activity you desire; if it is alone time you crave, you know?  Do that.

And even if you can achieve that rose-colored glasses outlook to life where following joy resides, trust your gut.  Because you are not even supposed to force relationships or chase happiness.  It will all come to you.  It will follow you without you having to/trying to manipulate the outcome.

Lesson(s) learned.  Thank you, Suzanne Collins, for helping me realize that I can close chapters of my life and move into new and exciting ones instead of just waiting/wanting to die.