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Forgiveness. When does it begin? When we take our first breath? And do we just keep forgiving and receiving forgiveness with each consecutive breath? Perhaps it depends on frame of reference…you know, expecting more than someone can give and killing bugs are small offenses compared to rape and murder.

I remember struggling with the concept of saying “I’m sorry,” many years ago…to the point of actually writing an article about it for which I actually interviewed random people for opinions. At the time there was someone in my life who said “I’m sorry” a lot, but it didn’t feel as if he really meant it.

Now, on the other side of that coin, having said “I’m sorry” too many times, I have a different view—a conflicted view, like looking through a kaleidoscopic, cracked lens at the mixed feelings and mixed desires that drove mixed behaviors that lead to mixed messages and requisite apologies.

Sigh.

How unnecessarily convoluted of you; speaking the truth could serve quite nicely.

Ah.

It is for that that I now ask forgiveness.

Love you.

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A friend recently sent a note in which he shared an experience of recognizing the voice of the victim in the stories he’d been telling about his life. His ability to courageously acknowledge something that most people judge negatively inspired me to explore my own stories.

Reflecting on a series of conversations transpiring over the past week, I can see the threads I missed at the time because I was so focused on one or two threads that I justified as my cause, which now looks more like my excuse. Standing in the light of truth, not universal truth, rather the light of my honest motivation, I can accept that what motivates me may be self serving.

Here’s the crux of standing in this light: once I see the truth of what’s really there I can no longer point only to the threads that I like or want to believe without pretending. That I suppose presents yet another crux: to pretend or not to pretend.

That part of me that doesn’t want to change or doesn’t want to choose something that I think will reveal my perceived weaknesses, which aren’t very well hidden anyway—I know; I hear you laughing—can easily pretend. It’s as simple as turning the light off. Even now, two paragraphs and a coffee refill later I’ve turned off the light.

I don’t want to stand in the dark with my back to my truth.

Remind me of the name of the voice speaking in last week’s story…help me to hold the light steady.

Love,

Me.

Facing remnants of the past, those pieces of life that seem to refuse to functionally decompose and continue influencing present experiences, I think of proponents of attending to the present moment: Eckhart Tolle, Ram Das, Ganjagi, Pema Chodron and other Buddhist leaders, friends, even myself just a few blogs ago. Just be in the moment and know that all is well.

Well, aware of those roots laying at my feet, under the soil of wanting all to be well, I am reminded of the importance of learning from the experience…to go back to the beginning and retrace the path to here…to see the opportunity in the situations.

If each adventure holds soul expanding lessons, which I didn’t see at the time, I can, like the salmon completing its cycle by returning to the beginning, go back and feel for what I missed.

Oh…

…stubborn resistance to the truth of the situations.

It’s so easy to deny the truth when it isn’t what I want to hear.

Love you.

October 2017
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