“Forgiveness doesn’t make one person better, or the other guy smaller. Forgiving is just letting go. It’s turning back toward being what we really are.” – From “The Gardens of Ailana” handbook for healers & mystics
My love/guide told me today that if I hadn’t had all those years of suffering and crippling doubt I couldn’t have written the books that I do, and could’t have reached the people I reach. I write books of hope for the hopeless; stories of deep meaning for the lost and out of touch. I couldn’t have come to them in compassion and empathy if I hadn’t myself felt disconnected, and like God and all meaning had turned from me.
When my arms grew long and strong enough I started pulling myself up onto the roof to lie back under the stars, praying for their vast peace to drain off some of this hurt. I ached for something higher, richer, undeniable, and there were moments when I was teased with just a glimpse. I could lose my heart in a picture of Jesus or Mary, in a rainy autumn sunset, or a field of stars, and it was like I’d gone home. Everything dissolved into pure, aching sweetness. How vast love can be when we don’t hack off a chunk and hoard it, call it ours, or chain it to someone; when it isn’t love for some thing or someone, just love.
I was only allowed brief visits to this world beyond worlds, though, and couldn’t bring the bliss back with me. Trying to hold on to that soul piercing, excruciating sweetness was like tearing my heart apart; but maybe that was exactly the point. Broken hearts show us we’ve grown out of one stage, by ripping us wide open for the next.
We’re forced to choose what we do with all that pain: turn it against ourselves, aim it at someone else, or tap all that power and reach higher.
– From “Entertaining Naked People”
Life drew my attention yesterday toward someone I know who has long been at loggerheads with her family and friends. Of course she always sees this as everyone else’s fault; they are just not living the way she tells them to. I thought of how miserable that could leave someone, though I doubt she would see herself that way.
How healing it can be, what a joyful moment, to feel humbled, in tune with the truth, apologetic, and then be forgiven. To come clean and be released. It is so freeing, such a feeling of lightness.
She may never experience this.
However; although my caring may briefly slip just enough into her pain to connect, I don’t choose to get stuck there. My job is to feel and share Joy, and Light.
This lady brings up slights and failures (real, exaggerated, and imagined) from times now long passed. She wants to keep them alive and drag others into them. But in doing so she shines light on certain choices each must make for himself: Do we wallow, or do we climb free? Do we dull, or do we shine? Do we anchor into old times and relationships, or do we embrace the new? Do we crawl back into our moldy old caves of sorrows and shadows? Or do we fly open-armed through bright open fields of delicious possibilities?