I Forgive You

So, I stumbled upon this quote that struck a chord with me. It might be because the past week has been a whirlwind of ridiculous emotions ranging from annoyance to an anger so fierce I desperately wanted to smash something to pieces, then back to a simple kind of sadness. Life gets derailed so easily, doesn't it? I mean, you're trucking along, then BAM the brakes fail just as you're peaking a monstrous hill, then you notice there are emotional sharks at the bottom waiting to devour you. 

Boy, I am colourful with the words today. 

But that's how it feels. 

Except, there are always indicators. Even when you're trucking along, there are warning signs, and intuition. We sometimes ignore it. Or miss it because we are looking out the wrong window. But it's there. Nagging softly in the back of our heads. 

I am still working through issues from when I was a little girl. Trust issues. Being scared of love being taken away from me if I don't behave a certain way. Fighting for attention. Sometimes I am the overweight, ratty haired girl just waiting for someone to notice her. Other times I am the stone cold, black-hearted woman who throws up a wall when she is disappointed and feeling foolish. I am fighting her. 

Seriously, we are battling it out. She has this double bladed axe of destruction, so sharp it'd slice through metal as if it were butter, and she wields it like a warrior. Just between us, I feel like I'm holding a toothpick in defence. Still, I'm pretty nimble on my feet and quick witted. 

It's as if I am waiting to see who wins this fight before I move forward, or backward. 

Truthfully, I don't have it in me to be mean. It's there in the back of my head, wanting to cause the same hurt done to me, trying to fall back into my old ways. Maybe I just want it known that everything is not OK. The thing is, I want to forgive. I know the anger will not go away until I do. And I know I will not move forward. (See why the battle with the She-Bitch is so important) That's why the quote hit home.  

Forgiveness is the final form of love. - Reinhold Niebuhr

I am working towards forgiveness.  

My sister filled me in on her infinite wisdom. She said forgiveness involves a conscious decision. It's important to pick a time and place, and tell myself I forgive, out loud, looking myself in the eye. This way, when the anger, resentment and hurt bubbles back up, I can remind myself I have forgiven. Hopefully this will sway me from being a jerk or placing blame. 

And, in her words, "The process requires mindfulness and consistent check ins with yourself. In the beginning, you will essentially be 'faking it until you make it' because it takes time to incorporate genuine forgiveness into your practice when your primary behaviour previously was to hang on to anger and never get to forgiveness." 

Yeah, she's a smart cookie. 

It's hard to forgive. I've never done very well with it in the past. Not with others. And most certainly not with myself. Learned behaviour, really. I remember my parents fighting and how they used to unearth all the old dirt. The hurts never went away. They never forgot or let go. Forgiveness is not something I'm well versed in. 

My ex, who knows far too much about me, said people make mistakes. They aren't always out to disappoint us. After all, it is the human condition to fuck up. Still, when it happens, it doesn't mean it was done maliciously, or intentionally. 

Writing this has made my toothpick stronger. 

The Art of Letting Go

Sometimes it feels as though the past has the hem of my dress in its grasp and is holding me back. I mean, there's slight movement. I'm inching along, there is forward motion, but it's a struggle. The past has so much power. Okay, yeah, I know it only has the power I give it and life is all about the now, but it's a lie to pretend it dosn't matter. Because it's a part of us. It brought us to this moment. Surely, we shouldn't let it hinder us, but to pretend it isn't important seems a bit ridiculous.

Am I talking complete nonesense?

And so, here begins the art of letting go. It takes time and is different for everyone.

There's something odd about knowing you must let go. Wanting to. But simply not being able to pull the trigger. Imagine what you want to let go of, let's say it's hurting someone you love, it's a ball in your hand. You're standing there, at the edge of a cliff, this orb of guilt and shame and sadness sitting on your palm. And you release it. But it's stuck there. It won't leave you, no matter how many times you shake your hand or blow it off.

I spend time thinking through the things I've done. The people I have hurt. Mistakes I've made. At times, I think I'm doing a good job. I confront my fear. Mend my fences. Forage friendships from the ashes of a relationship I thought would be my last. Things seem okay.

Then I'm bending over at work, stooping to sweep up a pile of hair off the floor, and I'm thrown back five years ago. Or three. Two. And there are tears in my eyes, and that unnegotionable headache pinching between my brows.

Sadness ebbs and flows. I can actually feel it washing through me and leaving again, like it is a living breathing creature. These emotions aren't necessarily a bad thing, but they can surprise me, because they are ones I fooled myself into thinking I let go off. Set free. Come to terms with.They aren't supposed to come back and knock the wind from me.

The question is there, it's bothering me, prodding me.

Why does it still hurt?

Is it because I haven't let go? Or have I, and I simply won't forget? Can you let something go, only to have it come back to you for a random visit in the middle of a grey Wednesday? There is that saying about how if you love something you set it free and if it comes back it is meant to be. Or whatever.

Does that apply to hurts and mistakes and residual feelings of guilt?

I don't know.

All I know is this letting go business is more difficult than anyone lets on. It's a process. A journey.

Not something done overnight after a cleansing meditation session and a crisp apple. At least that's what I thought it entaild. How wrong I was.