No Lie Left

A little over a week in, and I have already learned this authenticity commitment is a bit more of a challenge than I thought it would be. I imagined it would be a simple matter of proclaiming, this is who I am, what you see, is what you get, here is my truth.  That’s great, however, I discovered this week, there are times I just really don’t know the truth.   Sometimes the truth gets buried under years of protecting the feelings of others, and shame and guilt. 

This is where my Higher Power steps in.  By openly declaring my word, a spiritual pact has been formed between myself and God.  This year’s word, AUTHENTIC, I’ve decided to essentially follow what I call a Four Agreements lifestyle.  For those of you unfamiliar, the four agreements come from the book of the same name, written by Don Miguel Ruiz and published about eighteen years ago.  I read it way back then, and again off and on through the years, usually desperately, when a patch of quicksand on life’s road threatened to take me down.  Its simplicity is perfect for people like me who occasionally spend far too much excavating and then dissecting things in my head.  

The Four Agreements are:

Be impeccable with your word. (A little irony here perhaps)

Don’t take anything personally.

Don’t make assumptions.

Always do your best. 

Simple.  Right? Not at all.

Last week I got to work on being impeccable with my word.  With myself. God thought it was time.  I have to be open to learning more about who this authentic creature is and how she operates in order to not tell myself anymore lies. In an interview a few years ago  Alanis Morrisette said something and it stuck in a random brain cell.   She said, “I hate my own lying.  I need to get to the bottom of it until there is no lie left.”  Being impeccable with your word includes the things you tell yourself.  Authenticity begins at home. 

Those lies aren’t intentional.  I consider myself a painfully self-aware, honest person, sometimes struggling in identifying when the honesty has turned into self-flagellation. Some things are buried so deep, we can’t seem to unearth them on our own, or we don’t deal with them until they begin to affect our lives. They are the subtle tales we’ve woven, usually for many years. It takes a little nudge from an experience or in my recent case, God, to turn those lies into a truth that can set you free.  Last week, His nudge was an inner voice pointing out a few lies I’ve been telling myself all my life that have profoundly impacted me and others.  My lies are:  Love hurts.  I am unlovable. Everyone abandons me.   I can’t let myself be so vulnerable ever again.  

The thing about these internal lies about our character, they usually aren’t really true and we often don’t even know we are telling them.  They have become a part of our belief system and likely began a long time ago. We eternalize them because we think it will keep us safe on some  level  and we continue to breathe life into them.     I’ve fed that impostor all my life, which began in childhood and I refused to acknowledge because of a sense of misguided loyalty, guilt and shame. I thought I had put it all to rest, and essentially I have.  Most of it.   Don’t misunderstand, I blame no one.  I love my parents deeply.  Both of them have been gone quite some time now and I’ve taken the time to put the craziness in perspective with the help of some incredible counseling,  lots of prayer and developing a meditation practice.  They did the very best they could from their level of consciousness with the tools life had handed them. I came to not only know that, but appreciate their lives as well.  They too had struggles. This has allowed me to forgive and focus on their goodness and the things I loved about them. 

My lie apparently has been harder to get rid of.  It isn’t a lie. I have been abandoned.  From the beginning of life.    The insidious evil part of my lie is how I continue to perpetuate the story: I am unlovable, everyone leaves, and I can’t be vulnerable.  What a shock to discover, I keep the lie alive.  I breathe life into it with every choice I make. That awareness unfolded the first week of my Word of the Year. 

As I was vacuuming, and crying about yet another surgery coming up, and bemoaning the fact I would have to walk through it by myself, this internal voice said, you created that reality.  You can’t pick people who are irresponsible, emotionally unavailable,  dishonest, or incapable of intimacy, and expect them NOT to abandon you.  They don’t have the capacity to have a healthy relationship.  It’s not their fault, just like it was not your parents fault. The difference between back then and now, you couldn’t choose back then.  You can now.  If you truly want healthy relationships, pick healthy people.     

Of course, my comeback in this conversation was to  blubber to God about my one healthy relationship, and how he even abandoned me.  God said: He didn’t abandon you, he got very sick and he died.  My response was:  Well, you could have saved him.  God said: His life journey ended.  He did what he came here to do, and it has nothing to do with you. He didn’t leave you, he died.  I haven’t abandoned you.  I never will. Use my love and loyalty as the standard when you are choosing. 

It’s always a shock to realize that we really do create our own life and destiny.  The quality of my relationships are up to me.  I pick them.  If I want a caring, reciprocal, intimate relationship with someone, I have to choose people who are capable of one. I also have to decide, for myself, if I am picking those kinds of relationships in order to sabotage any chance of meaningful, reciprocal, intimacy,  knowing I just might really be content and satisfied with living alone. Whatever the truth is, no more lies. 

I have a feeling this Authenticity gig is going to be a bit more than I initially bargained for.  But, I have a feeling the rewards are going to be too! 

Forgiven.

You can know the truth of something so well, yet, be unable to apply it to your own life.  This seems to be the case for me and a little  left-over negative energy from the past.  All it takes are even a few small drops of negativity to slowly seep into the pores of a life and like a petri dish that reproduces more of whatever is placed in there with it- it grows and festers.  Soon,  it's out of control and you don't have big enough tools to  stop its progression.

 I've been weaving in and out of forgiveness for way too long. As author Anne Lamott calls it, Forgivishness. It's been a half-assed, people pleaser, goody two shoes kind of forgiveness.  I have learned,  a shattered heart heals.  I think it's because God lives there and pieces it back together with his love.  A shattered ego is harder to fix.  Maybe that's the point.   Let it be, this self-righteous ego.  Leave it lying in a mess on the ground humming some sad old twangy tune of being done wrong while it wraps itself up in a poor little thing cloak.  Maybe it's just time to sweep up the ego; sweep it all up,  into a dustpan and toss it out into the ethers.  What purpose does the ego serve other than as a barrier to a loving God who wants to do so much more for me than I am capable of manipulating together for myself.  He sees the big picture because He's already painted the big picture.  Without the ego, I might  not only accept that, I could be at peace with it too.

I always try to ask myself, what is the point? What is the take-away lesson here?  What am getting out of this?  Being human and feeling the range of emotion - from joy to rage, to extreme suffering is the point.  It's our catalyst for growth and change. We don't grow just because we thought about it and think it's time.  We grow because its too painful to stay where we are standing.  Being human and feeling all that indignation and shame and those other unholy terrors -  they lets us know when its time. If we don't hear them, they curse and scream at us until we are on the brink of crazy.   Time to grow.  Time to give up.  Time to accept.  Past Time to forgive.

I live quite a lot from my head.  I do learn some things from that space.  However,  my emotions are a better teacher.  I have learned that.  Suffer long enough and I'll do anything to set myself free.  So, I decided it was a matter of life or death to just forgive.  Even if in my head, I didn't mean it right now.  In my heart I needed to mean it.   Even if I didn't really want to because I was so justified.  I just kept mouthing the words- I forgive you.  I forgive you.  I forgive you.

Somehow, my words became one with God's. You must forgive so that you can live.  

Self- Forgiveness - Part Two - A letter from my Higher Self (an exercise suggested by a recent meditation session)

This morning I languished in the empty space luxuriating between sleep and lucidity. This sweet spot is my favorite time of the day, caught up in the deliciousness of a quiet, empty, mind and the kind of peace that feels soft and silky like the trim on a baby’s blanket. What better place to open the day with a little prayer.  Gratitude softly rises as a natural expression when I am in this state.  I stretched.  I smiled.  I ticked off a few of my many blessings....another day of life, recovery, family, friends, having just enough, and,   the daily expressions of God’s love for me (when I stay alert and teachable). 

 I suspect God appreciated that I finally seemed to notice all this after a summer of what felt like a Spiritual Tough Mudder competition.  Me, feeling prepared after exercising and developing what I thought were some pretty big spiritual muscles over the past few years.  So, it was a big surprise to feel trapped, weak and helpless: the underground drainage pipe filling up with some stinky luck, and blockage as everyone else (apparently spiritually fitter and more deserving) seemed to charge right by me. There were many things that just weren’t easy.  It was solitary, and clearly out of my control and I surmised it was time to work on bigger, maybe steroid enhanced muscles, of long-term patience, surrender, acceptance, faith, and courage. I thought I was failing miserably at even my amped up workouts. I needed much bigger guns than I apparently had.   I did recognize a good part of my depression was my own head chastising me for a million things that I thought should be happening and weren’t.  I was either just unworthy, or being karmically punished for every mistake I’ve made in my life - since birth. Joan of Arc and I had a lot in common- in my distorted mind.  Only I was hardly a saint, just a self-professed martyr. 

This creepy, prophesy fulfilling self-talk, revealed I still had one huge forgiveness opportunity festering away waiting for me to put to rest. Of course someone had to be blamed, so I picked me.  I knew my slate was clean with everyone else I'd had a resentment towards for real or imagined harm done.  But, I didn’t really have a clue how to forgive me, or exactly what I needed to forgive me for. If I chastised myself, wasn’t that okay and way of keeping me accountable?  In a blinding flash of clarity, the thought drifted into my head, “Would you use such negativity on your loved ones to hold them accountable?” The answer of course was no.  I wouldn’t dream of demeaning my beloveds thinking that would produce the empowerment and acceptance that comes from good self-esteem.  Furthermore, don’t I believe resentment blocks peace of mind, clarity and abundance?  So, why wouldn’t  holding a resentment towards myself be part of the problem recently?  I clearly needed to forgive myself... for everything. 

The question was, “How can I do that?”  The Universe answered. The same way I have forgiven everyone else I needed to forgive in my life.  By  putting myself in God’s immeasurably large shoes and looking through His eyes at the person I needed to forgive.  This time it was me.  

So, this was the morning...  He must have sensed my peace and comfort and thought it a good time to remind me of my commitment to work with Him on a forgiveness letter, written in my hand, from His compassionate heart.  He suggested we do this and pay no attention to the crazy blonde lady who often party-crashes inside my head.  

This is what We wrote:

My beautiful child,

I hear your words and they cut like a Samurai’s sword.  Oh, the evil things you say about my creation.... YOU.  Life is not about your mistakes, failings, and poor choices.  Life is about experiencing, learning, growing and moving through the good, the bad and the devastating.  I see that it is often in the pitchiest blackness, you’ve turned to Me and learned to trust my guidance and voice.  Why do you question that it is My voice?   I’ve seen you flourish with little light, and grow beyond your perceptions of your limitations.  It’s time now, to walk into the Light and see that for yourself.  No human being enters into this material world all knowing.  I placed you into this classroom to learn, grow and recognize your true spiritual nature.  I gave you Life and experiences to be your teacher.  I signed My name in blood on your life contract so that YOU would never know the suffering of unforgiveness. You learned the importance of forgiving  others, but you diminish MY gift to you? Do you realize, when you do that, you block the power I give you to live in abundance, peace, and joy.   You must recognize, my love, when you know better, you do better.  Your self-talk is so vicious about many of your life choices.  My precious one, don’t you see, it has been your choices that have helped you to grow and evolve into your spiritual skin?  The choices you have made, while you may see them as negative, have cultivated your intuition, compassion, loving spirit, and many other spiritual gifts that I placed in you.  How would you know what sacred love looks like without seeing what it isn’t?  Look to Me. I have shown you the kind of love you have craved, so you can NOW pick people that respect and honor you as I do.   I see you focus so often on your perception of what you haven’t achieved.  Why do you not celebrate all you have achieved?  I do.  Everyday I give you breath, I celebrate a woman who has overcome many obstacles and turned her life into one of hope, possibility, tenacity,  authenticating My work by being who she is, the woman I created -- In big, bold, cursive writing for the world to see.  I see a woman who is honest, strong, loving, capable, kind, generous and deserving of all that she already offers to others.  I see a woman whose needs, desires, hopes and dreams have a right to be acknowledged.  You just have to speak up, my dear, and claim them.  I see a woman who yes, has sometimes fallen, but always picks herself back up, wiser and more compassionate to the human condition. Let Me help you put away the pommeling stick.  It doesn’t honor either one of us for you to continue to reject My perfect Grace.  I forgave you for every sin before your sins were even manifested.  Today, I am asking you to forgive yourself and remove this Samurai sword which continues to break My heart.   Today I am asking you to take My hand and the two of us will wipe your slate clean.  Can I hear you say... I forgive, I am forgiven, I forgive myself?  I love you. 

Thank you,
Your Greatest Fan (aka God)

Forgiveness Part One - Let it begin with me.

I’ve spent the past 26 years on a Forgiveness mission.  I’ve gotten pretty good at it too. I’m not saying I’m an expert because sometimes it takes me a long time to realize I need to put forth the effort, AND do the work. I don’t fool myself anymore into thinking it’s not work. It’s hard work; sometimes more difficult than others, it just depends on the impact of the damage done and how I perceive it affects my life.  A belief I’ve acquired which takes some of the sting out of   wrongs committed, is the understanding that life is a school and sometimes the best lessons are learned through those Forgiveness opportunities. 

 Honestly though, every now and then I think I rather like splashing in the mud puddle of thoughts of creative revenge, karma, and little self-pity... for awhile.  I figure I must get some payoff from it.  Or maybe it’s just part of the way I learn my lessons...  rehashing and searing into my brain cells, why I don’t want to go there again. On that path, with that particular person or institution.  After awhile, I am alerted to the suffocating fog of poisonous anger overtaking my life and I miss the way the light feels on my skin and in my heart.  Blindly groping my way out of it,  sometimes I feel hopelessly lost and forget how to even begin to forgive.   Many times I’ve had to ask God to help me with it because I just can’t get there on my own.  My pitiful, yet heartfelt prayer would go something like this.  “God, please show me what you see in this person/situation, because I don’t always see things like you do and I am not seeing anything redeeming in this individual right now.  I would rather get out my voodoo doll and use up an inventory of sewing pins.”  It’s honest and I believe my communication with my Creator needs to be that, even if it's raw and real.  I am still human and need Him to transform the impure to a purer vision.   We may hide who we are from others, but, there are no secrets from Him... He knows my heart.  That plea occasionally got repeated for a long time before freedom set in. I’ve just learned through the years, how incredibly important Forgiveness is to any kind of fulfilling life.   Bryant McGill professes, “There is no Love without Forgiveness and there is no Forgiveness without Love.” I want Love to be at the center of my life. 

Forgiveness, for me, is the golden key.  I can't afford the luxury of resentments and any unfinished Forgiveness business just blocks the gifts of the spirit I have come to treasure.  Years ago, before I learned the power of Forgiveness, I adorned myself with resentments and masked the pain of their weight with a few addictions, for a time... Especially the ones that broke my hurt into a million pieces, or threatened the basic needs in life of safety, food, shelter.... healthcare. But, I did learn about personal choices, and I don’t do that anymore.  Once you enter the kingdom of heaven on earth, it’s hard to go back and live in a self-imposed hell. The sooner I got rid of that negativity, the better.  

I thought I had the Forgiveness skill mastered.  Furthermore, there was nothing currently swimming around out there waiting to sink its gigantic teeth in and suck the life out of my joy. 

A few weeks ago, I took part in a 21 day meditation challenge designed to transform relationships.  I’m not a newbie to meditation; Guided, Mindfulness, and Kundalini, even dabbling in a little Transcendental in my younger years. Way back then, any excuse to leave my body was a way of life and welcome!   Each day during this challenge I anticipated the day’s meditation and lesson plan- sailed right through each one, and savored the peace it brought.  Then, along came Day 14 or so.  The topic....Forgiveness.  I thought rather cockily... “I got this down.”  In the midst of the meditation, I felt unwarranted tears streaming down my cheeks, and saw my own face within, sad, and pinched. It shocked me. What was up with this?  Then came the journal writing part. The first question, I wrote:

I have forgiven many people through the years.  My parents, husbands, employers, friends, institutions, family members, even God.   I know how important it is to not only my serenity, but also my health and well-being. I am confused why the meditation impacted me so profoundly with tears, sadness, and sense of unfinished business. I think my slate is clean.   

Well, well, well.... Apparently not.  My body and reaction was telling me otherwise.

The next question in the journal led with this thought provoker.  “If the person you need to forgive is YOURSELF, consider writing yourself a letter from the perspective of your true (Higher)  Self, offering compassion and Forgiveness.  Holy cow!  Forgive myself?   I knew how to Forgive others, but me? I sat cross-legged on my mat and again, the tears flowed. Had I hung onto that voodoo doll and been using the pins on me?  I pulled out a notebook and pen and wrote with abandon, feeling disembodied from my thoughts and hand.   I wrote this list:

1. I need to forgive myself for speaking and judging myself so harshly. 
2. I need to forgive myself for having unattainable expectations, ones I would never ask of someone else.  
3. I need to forgive myself for allowing others to treat me with unwarranted disrespect and going back for more. 
4. I need to forgive myself for the incredibly poor choices that have peppered my life from time to time.  
5. I need to forgive myself for failing to speak up for what I believe in.  
6. I need to forgive myself for thinking that perfection was an attainable and an admirable goal.   
7. I need to forgive myself for forgetting where I came from, and what my task is while I am alive.
8. I need to forgive myself for treating the grandmother of three of the most beautiful little spirits on the planet, with such loathing and disregard.  
9. I need to forgive myself for believing my needs and desires weren’t as important as everyone elses.
10. I need to forgive myself for not forgiving myself.... 

Part Two, over the weekend---  Write a letter from my True Self, the Holy DNA I came into this world with, accessible at anytime.  The One who sees all as it truly is, doesn’t judge,  loves unconditionally. The Teacher.  The Lover. The Father/Mother, The Source of All.  

God, I ask for wisdom to write my letter IN YOUR WORDS extending Your compassion and understanding, and ultimately Forgiveness....for myself.  The same Forgiveness I know I must extend to others, I now recognize I need to give me. 

St. Francis of Assisi and I go soul to soul.........

 

St. Francis - my guy

I've had this secret crush. I met him a few years ago.   The introduction was so mystical and unforgettable, in all honesty, it didn’t occur to me until later that our connection was one of those rare, ethereal soulmate hook-ups.  Call it a past life, or alternate universe experience, I can honestly say I have never fallen so madly in love with someone I never met. Our introduction touched parts of my soul with an unspoken magic that moved me to tears.  Maybe that’s what true love is all about.  Something far beyond physical chemistry; a deeper, inner knowing that this experience/individual  is happening for you, and to you....  breaking down the barriers and defects of the ego and teaching you things you’ve waited your whole life to learn.  They say God shows up in ways in which we will recognize Him.  I needed this mystery man to arrive, leading me to a greater understanding of the bottomless well of spirituality I was so frantically seeking then.  Ready to throw off the limitations of fear based doctrine, and the five senses, believing in my heart of hearts, there is so much more to this boundless Universe; both playground and school to all of creation. I was also slow-cooking, in a thick, tasteless, stew of regret and self-flagellation; needing to forgive (myself first and then a laundry list of others)  so I could dance in the playground again.   God knew I was ready and He sent me to Italy.   

The Pieta

A two month trip through Italy and southern France took me to some of the most noted religious spots in Europe as well as the privilege of feasting my eyes on Art created for God’s pleasure... or the current ruler of the day.  By the end of our Italian sojourn, we joked that we were ready to venture away from some of the religious Art and the myriad of “ugly baby Jesus” pictures.  Some artists must have been trying to score brownie points as they painted a grown man’s face; a dictator, Pope, or even their own, on a soft, pink, dimpled baby body. Frightening.  The churches in Rome, the Vatican Museum and the Sistine Chapel were greeted with wide-eyed wonder as visions swirled of ancient times.  I have a relatively active imagination, and was capable of re-creating  the history in my head, as I stood before many of the saints, great thinkers, and artists tombs;  St. Peter, Michelangelo, Dante, Galileo, Raphael and so many more.   St. Peter’s Basilica alone is a hot bed of spiritual energy, a papal resting place, and vibrant history dances through all its sculpture and artwork.  The Pieta could bring even an atheist to tears, in its depiction of the unimaginable sorrow of a mother, cradling and grieving the lifeless body of her Son.

All of it, relayed a story to my curious mind, engaged and awed me.    Yet, when I returned home and was asked what my favorite place was during this once in a lifetime trip, I had to respond, visiting the crypt of St. Francis of Assisi.  My experience there was so much more than imagination and personal storytelling originating in my head. It was visceral, perceived in my heart and every fiber of my being. It was here, I now know, everything for me, began to change.  Spiritually, nothing would ever be the same again.  It was here, I began to learn to stop minimizing my intuition.  I discovered it was as important as the other five senses. 

Visiting Assisi, I had no expectations, and don’t even know if I was consciously aware St. Francis’ remains were cloistered away beneath the massive Basilica of San Francesco.  I wasn’t particularly intrigued by St. Francis, or even necessarily a devotee of any of the saints.  I knew next to nothing about his life. I knew he graced many gardens, his concrete form enticing the birds to land on this lover of animals and the poor.   I had no idea he came from a wealthy family and had a colorful past as a self-indulgent womanizer, drinker, and party dude. A sinner for sure, apparently redeemed in several conversion experiences.  Nonetheless, I was excited to visit this massive church.  

St. Francis crypt

The cathedral was beautiful and reverently still, even though it was teaming with tourists.  Nestled deep in the bowels of the church lies his crypt.  As I walked down into the cavernous hallways of the church, I began to feel enveloped in peace.  With every step I took it deepened, like a fog thickening around me, seeping into every pore in my body. The sensation, I can now relate, felt very similar to a meditation session, consciously breathing relaxation into each part of the body.  Only this shroud of peace wasn’t a conscious act, nor did I have to work at it.   Rounding the corner into a small chapel, I stopped, awestruck by the earthiness of the surroundings.  What was it about this simple sanctuary, housing the remains of St. Francis, that drew me magnetically inside to a seat on the humble, carved, wooden pews.  The room was cool and the lighting was dim. My eyes were riveted to the circular, stone altar straight ahead, candles burning brightly, inviting my heart to open up and let the light enter.  Five minutes seated in the pew, silently praying a prayer I had never prayed before, I asked for St. Francis kindness and understanding to envelope me.  I asked for my heart to open to the possibility of forgiveness and putting it to rest. I asked him to be an emissary to God and requested unconditional love. I asked for direction for my life.  A warmth radiated from the center of my chest and my body couldn’t sit any longer. I moved towards the circular altar, feeling a pulse of energy emanating from the stone and put my hand out, open palm, ready to receive.  As I slowly moved around the structure, my body bathed in energy, I could see St. Francis, his uncannily familiar face, eyes gentle, but a mischievous grin dancing on his lips.  He raised his hands to bless me and then reached out with one, and touched the open palm of mine reaching towards the burial shrine, as if the contact would feel familiar, and I would then remember.  Droplets of tears slid down my cheeks in recollection and gratitude.   I was forgiven.  I am not perfect.  I made a mistake.  I’d made many of mistakes.  But, I am not a mistake.  My soul not only heard this, but gratefully received that grace.  I heard that I need to listen with that same soul and my heart from now on. I heard that redemption is always possible... Witness St. Francis' life. 

The connection to him and this experience has remained with me. Did St. Francis and I party together in a past life when he was just Francesco? He was a bad boy in his younger days.  I was a wild child. We had a lot in common, something I wasn’t aware of until I returned home and read his biography.  Or, is it just we are all eternally connected, and sometimes, we don’t even need to ask for a miracle.  Maybe it’s as simple and easy as  being in the right place, at the right time. I know if I want to fully experience the majesty and limitless power of God, I have to at least be open, get rid of the closed mind, and clear a pathway to my heart.  This time I unconsciously chose to observe through the eyes of intuition and was blessed to receive a mystical moment that has changed my idea of spirituality forever. 

God does answer our prayers... sometimes through a centuries old sinner, turned Saint.  

Afterthoughts:  Five years later, I still dream of my affair to remember with St. Francis. I'm convinced we've been soulmates lifetimes ago.   I have to confess... He now does have competition. I find I am strangely drawn to the new Pope Francis.  When I see him in the media, I feel the same connection and familiarity I felt on that summer day in Assisi.  What is it about my attraction to these Francis’?  Who wouldn't be attracted to all of that genuine humility and  palpable empathy?  There are worse things than to be in love with a Saint and a Pope. 

Forgivishness- Anne Lamott

I like to multi-task.  I know there is something to be said for being fully present, in the moment, but when I'm on the treadmill, I want to be somewhere other than the moment.  Anything to distract from the redundant slapping sound of my tennis shoes as they hit the rubber.  Listening to music is great... sometimes.  But, even if you have over 500 tunes on your I-Pod, if you're like me, you’ve sung them all.  My new love are podcasts. The free ones I can find on I-Tunes are the best especially if I can get them for the length of my workout.  I discovered a few of these writers' interviews this past week and Anne Lamott was one of them.  The interview was forty-five minutes long, just perfect.  I am a huge fan of Anne Lamott’s work.  I’m not always right there with her political beliefs (other than her stance on peace and ending the killing and war) but her relationship with Jesus, self-deprecating humor, sarcasm, humanness in striving towards spirituality, and most of all, her honesty, make me feel like I’ve found my soul sister.  She tears open her shirt and lays it all bare; every defect, insecurity, and struggle.    

In this particular podcast, she was discussing what was her newest book at the time of the interview,  Grace (Eventually): Further Thoughts on Faith.  The interviewer’s questions circled around to her liberal beliefs, her Christianity, and her personal relationship with Jesus.  The conversation headed in the direction of when others hurt you, the resentment it brings, and forgiveness.  Ann told the interviewer forgiveness for her, is more along the lines of “forgivishness”.  A process that went something like this...  I sort of forgive you today to the best of my ability, but I may be royally resentful of you tomorrow especially if the affront and pain pop back up in my head again.   Hearing that, I actually whooped.  And, jumped up and down on my treadmill.  Note to self as I tumbled backward and let the wall behind me stop my fall... with my head:  Don’t do that ever again.  

Forgivishness!  What a perfect term to describe the process of forgiveness. I can stop beating myself up over my inability to put the past completely behind me.  I've surely tried as well as handed it over to God because I seemed powerless.   I wrote about a recent "blue moon" experience a week or so ago and it was a perfect example of forgivishness at work.  Forgiven today.... pissed off again tomorrow.    Anyone who knows me well, will tell you, I’ve tried setting it all up in flames, but not everything burns so easily.  Upon further introspection,  do I really want it to?  Maybe my inability to annihilate chapters of my life, forgive forever, and move on completely, is a gift.  Because fire doesn’t burn everything and sometimes what’s left after the flames burn out, is the charred memory of spectacular moments, times of real love and intimacy, and the soul of another human being, just like me, capable of making mistakes, hurting others, and navigating their learning process.  All of this might still remain, just waiting for the soot to be rubbed off, so something of beauty can be revealed.  Do I really want to set off a nuclear bomb to all of it, just to move forward?  Wouldn’t it be better to do my best on an ongoing basis to gently squeeze the poison out, a bit at a time?  Let it ooze to the surface, rather than cutting it out and taking parts of the heart and soul that were present too and equally a part of the experience, or relationship, along with the excision? 

When these hurts, offenses, and pain from the past arise, isn’t it better to allow myself to experience it briefly, extract what that pain is trying to teach me.... maybe I played a role and I need to learn how to not play that role again.  And, then, do my best to forgive... myself and the others?  If I played no role and still was harmed, perhaps it behooves me to look for the love in the aftermath, in the arms of others who stood beside me, comforted me, and loved me into life again?  Doesn’t true healing really only arrive on the wings of love?   So, if we burn away or cut out the good along with the experience, will healing ever take place and can forgiveness ever really come? 

Forgiveness for me hasn't been like a one act play;  rich with colorful language, thoughts of creative revenge and prayers for karmic payback.  Final scene.... fairy dust drifts down on the stage and poof....it is finished. I tried that.  Forgiveshness is a process, an epic production of tragedy and comedy, and hopefully when we are finished sorting through the rubble, plucking and tossing away the anger, resentment and hurt, we retain the lessons, the memories... and most of all the love.  Forgivishness.. Finally, this feels authentic, and honest, much more in alignment with the peace, and positive energy I am trying to draw into my life. 

The pressure is off.   The guilt is gone. No longer do I need to beat myself up when I revisit unpleasant events and times I thought I had put behind me.  It can take a long time, perhaps even a lifetime  to clean off the charred remains of a past.  I think it might be so worth it to process it this way.   Gold doesn’t burn and never loses its value.  Sorting through the rubble from time to time to extract something priceless, well, somehow it all seems worthwhile,  even if I have to revisit the pain of the past to find it.   There’s always forgivishness.