Penitent

[sidebar] As loyal readers (ie Liz) know, I'm a big fan of Edna St. Vincent Millay. Love her. [sidebar closed]
Today I was thinking about punishment, and the punishments we doll out upon ourselves. Often we forgive ourselves long after it is healthy or it is helpful; we let those missteps almost define us, or we don't forgive ourselves at all; we live a life of someone perpetually paying penance. I was mulling that around when I saw yahoo's word of the day was penitent; that is, feeling sorry for past crimes or sins. Creepy. It tied in well, as all day I was recalling a Millay poem titled "The Penitent":
"I had a little sorrow born of a little sin
I found a room all damp with gloom and shut us all within
"Little sorrow, Weep!" said I
"Little sin, pray God to die
And I upon this floor will lie
And think how bad I've been!"

Alas for pious planning!
It mattered not a whit
As far as doom went in that room
A lamp might have been lit
My little sorrow would not weep
My little sin would go to sleep
To save my soul I could not keep
My graceless mind on it

So up I got in anger
And took a book I had
And put a ribbon in my hair
To please a passing lad
"There's one thing there's no getting by
I've been a wicked girl," said I
"But if I can't been sorry why
I might as well be glad!"

There are days when I couldn't agree more; others when I want so badly to be done with the Little Sorrows and the Little Sins.