exploring forgiveness
I'm back to the writing page early in the day. It's 7:29 AM and while my sleep hasn't regulated yet (grief insomnia and jetlag things), I welcome a routine of early mornings. (I've naturally been a night owl, so waking up before sunrise without an alarm has been a mighty change).
I started reading the book Greatest Forgiveness by Dr. & Master Zhi Gang Sha -- peering into how forgiveness can help me in this season of grief and surrender.
As much as I try to be understanding and compassionate, I have outstanding sources of confusion, anger, betrayal, pain, bewilderment. The concept of forgiveness -- asking for forgiveness to those I hurt, forgiving those who have hurt me, and forgiving myself unconditionally -- seems important, necessary, essential for healing.
Forgiveness is a practice. Giving and receiving forgiveness is an ebb and flow of loving energy. From what I'm understanding, it is the consistent rainfall that erodes mountainous walls you erect to protect your heart and soul. And as we all know, if you have your walls up to keep undesirables (pain, criticism) out, you also prevent desirables like joy and serendipity.
So if I want to be more open to peace and joy, I must be willing to forgive and be forgiven. I can't keep holding on to the violations of trust, the times I've been taken advantaged of, used and abused, and also the ways I have wronged others in my ignorance and incompetence or my desperate efforts to survive.
I am not perfect. I am human -- we are complex and simple, naive and wise, selfish and selfless. One of the first thoughts that burned in my mind, eyes heavy with weeping after finding out my dad died was: "being human is so incredibly messy".
The life, memories, and future plans with my dad flashed before my eyes. It was an onslaught of every emotion possible, and it struck me to my knees. I must begin to pick up the pieces.
As I go through this work of grief processing, I know that yes -- I must accept the sudden loss of my dad and allow it to move through me. But also, I have become aware of other grief that remains unaddressed.
The finality of losing my dad gives me a sober view of how much grief I have yet to feel. I've collected instances of grief and put them in a box for safe keeping, dismissed with a "I'll sort this out later". Grief has been waiting in a silent queue, piling up spiritual and emotional clutter, patiently seeking relief and release.
Well, past me, it's "later" now. Time to sort it out (at a mindful pace) or risk the weight becoming so unbearable it may one day completely crush me.
This is why forgiveness is important. I must forgive myself for allowing it to compound, to forgive the ones who contributed to the pain, and to ask forgiveness for the pain I've caused which intensifies the grief.
So far it seems that asking for forgiveness and giving forgiveness can be an internal practice, without actually reaching out to involved parties. (I assume this because I wouldn't be able to with my dad since he's no longer here.) If you feel you could benefit from forgiveness, I encourage you to explore it.
If we all could find it in our hearts to forgive one another unconditionally, with intentional efforts to be respectful and loving of one another (also unconditionally), then surely the world will be a better place.
As Jane Goodall said in her final interview (paraphrased from memory): if you commit one good deed, it matters. Imagine that good deed being multiplied by millions or even billions of people -- that surely will transform the world.
Go out there and do one good deed. One small act. Even if it's just forgiving yourself for not knowing better.
We are worthy of forgiveness, of peace, of love, of harmony.
Love you,
Nadine ♥