I look good made up in my compassion-finery. My spiritual make-up rivals Starlet must-have miracles in a jar.
But, naked, my thoughts challenge any great thriller writer.
My heart burns with a sense of outrage, a point of finger to the offender. At times, I have held a chronicle of the ways someone has wronged me. I keep score. I decide to cut my ties. But, I don’t really let go.
I am the person I describe above. I’ve allowed her to be that ..no one, nothing has ever chastised me for this, because I hide it so well.
My brother has been one person who I hold to account. Lots of reasons, to be sure. I have prided myself at times on the ways others would back me up if they had the “facts”. I have felt so entitled to be closed off to him. Maybe with cause..maybe not, maybe I should just fucking let it all go to the grudge commode in the sky, for proper recycling.
My brother may be in straits that anyone might shudder from..he may be sick. And, I am sick if I don’t rise to the occasion and try to find a way to let go of the crap and hold close the light. Because the clock waits for no one, especially someone who understands the power of intending to forgive like me, but passes on the chance to do it.
I know things about Things. I am spiritually educated, one might say.
So, I am going to task myself to be a better person. Do the really hard things.
Let go of the stuff I could not control,
the things that happened that angered or hurt me,
recognize the pain in people that blind and disable them,
be grateful that the stuff is forgivable,
ride high on the most insightful thoughts any of us have ever shared,
become a better version of me.
As you read this, you are reading a transformation. Because as I write this, I have decided, I am going to forgive.