Forgiveness

Written April 5, 2021

Forgiveness

“Having a grievance or resentment is like drinking poison and hoping it will kill the enemy.” - Nelson Mendela

There will come a time one will understand they have created their life. All of it. All the moments of strength and all the moments of stretches, expanding who they are toward becoming.

It is a humble moment.  

It initiates in glimpses.  Like glitter from the kid’s craft project years ago, stuck in small crevices and small spaces yet it illuminates with exception at just the right angle. So much so you back up to grab the same perspective, questioning it’s existence. Realizing one creates their life, all of it, is too much to see at once. Dosing was in the design of one’s journey.

There comes a point looking at the pain and reality of the residue on one’s soul, the redundancy, that smudge keeps them squinting, asking for clarity to see who one really is with detail.

No condition.

No circumstance.

No situation.

No person.

No thing.

Even the shoes have to go.

Just them and who they are fully.

One comes to understand they have spent a lifetime looking outward to feel fully. They have exhausted resources, relationships and reality seeking what they carried with them each step of the way.

Each moment they resided in their primitive brain, looking for a path to survive their circumstance, condition, and situation, perhaps summoning a partner to join, these doubts and decisions were the best they could manifest. Those perspectives protected them from what they were not capable of at that time. In this awareness, they thank each excursion for their service, each road taken and decision deliberated, knowing each stop gave a richness to their experience, especially the challenging ones.

To point outside of themself for pain and pleasure made as much sense as the sunrise and sunset, it just was. Seeking the outward elation became habit. The motion of doing was the path of least resistance, activity was easy. Planning, prepping and packing was controllable. Device deluge was devine. Eating brought a smile. Exercise alleviated stuckness. Vaping took no thought. A drink invited fun.  Shopping looked sensational. It provided the illusion their internal world had organization. A bit like after the cleaning crew comes and the fresh smell of lemon flows in each room, surfaces cleared but God forbid if anyone was to open the bottom drawers and cupboards. Illusions seeped into their soul.

Justification, this folly met them most often. It dug deep into the neural pathways. Patterning surrounded them, society and culture were loving parents, modeling - if you own me you will feel more - conditions, situations, circumstances, people and things. The idea of control was calming. Total drug-like. The hamster wheel was self propelling. They sought control in ways to keep their external sources fueled fully.

In relationships, accusations wore justification’s undergarments and puffy jackets. Defensiveness became the beanie when too much discomfort was anticipated and overwhelm decided to speak up. Judgement is quite clever, making manipulation seem like it was your idea. The ego, all of them,  are excellent that way. It’s challenging not to think one is relevant when they dress it all in good or bad, lining up the cousins of blame and shame., making sure their podium height is just more elevated than others. Cozy became comfort. Comfort became the goal. One doesn’t get curious in comfort.

Fulfillment was declared, it remained to be demonstrated.

Addresses, adventures, diseases, friendships, death, births and break ups created continued distractions from the illusion. The illusion being the cycle of their dissolution and rebirth, resides outside their internal being.

The glitter kept catching their eye. Once one speck appeared inspiration found focus and more was seen. Once seen, never again unseen.

Silence became their practice.

Silence of each dance.

Silence of complaining.

Silence of discord.

Silence of time.

Silence of sunshine.

Silence of sex.

Silence of music.

Silence of projecting.

Silence of each circumstance, condition, situation, person and thing.

What remained? you. us. me. always a place to connect.

Perhaps there is a word or phrase that resonates in this writing. Nothing more, nothing less.

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