11/18/2025
💨 The Smoke That Stays
We are taught to believe that hate is a form of release—a way to sever ties, to burn bridges, to cauterize wounds. But hate is not fire; it is smoke. It clings to the walls of memory, staining every surface with its residue. You may walk away from the flame, but the smoke follows, curling into your lungs, whispering the name of what you tried to forget.
In the sacred texts, we are told to “bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you” (Luke 6:28). Not because forgiveness is easy, but because hate is heavy. It anchors us to the very pain we long to escape. In community, we’ve seen this truth: the ones who carry bitterness are never free. Their stories loop, their breath shortens, their joy dims.
The heart is not a vault—it is a mirror. What we press against it, even in rage, leaves a mark. To forget, we must unclench. To heal, we must release. To move forward, we must refuse to carry the smoke.
And so, C. JoyBell C.—a contemporary essayist and poet known for her reflections on emotional alchemy and transformation—offers this echo of truth:
“If you want to forget something or someone, never hate it… Everything and everyone that you hate is engraved upon your heart… you cannot hate.”
What are we still breathing in that was never meant to stay?
🤟 Royce
