How did it go?
Yesterday began our year long journey in forgiveness.
It still seems a little weird that I’m writing about forgiveness. I mean, it’s a deeply personal subject.
A subject I don’t talk to my buddies about or one that wiggles its tail at the fantasy football draft.
Quite frankly, forgiveness is a subject that scares me.
I mean– is there anything more vulnerable ( or more courageous) than asking for forgiveness?
I dedicated yesterday to forgiving myself for my sickness. And like all days with ataxia, there were some missteps, some steps that look like they were taken by a drunken sailor.
After these missteps I am often self-critical. Embarrassed. Hoping know one saw my graceless gait.
“Forgiveness day” was no different.
But throughout the day, I found quiet moments, to think about my missteps and to remind myself “forgive yourself.”
I probably said “forgive yourself” a dozen times throughout the day.
Yesterday, I realized three things:
First, we will never be at a loss for things to forgive ourselves or other people for. Forgiveness is a forever-practice but necessary for finding lasting peace and happiness in our soul.
There are a lot of unsatisfied, angry people in the world. And I am starting to believe their negativity is a direct response to their unwillingness to forgive.
Second, forgiveness is not easy. Sometimes you’re not ready to forgive. The hurt is too fresh. You need more perspective. Or sometimes holding on to pain is, in a weird way, comforting. Sometimes suffering is all we know and were afraid to let it go. We’re afraid what forgiveness might feel like.
Third, I realized the irony of forgiving myself for my physical missteps–because that’s what forgiveness is (forgiving ourselves for our physical, emotional, psychological, spiritual missteps) and sooner-or-later we will all take another misstep.
To add to this “fun with irony” lesson– when a step is taken that step is literally* over.
We can’t change it. It’s in the past.
Whether it was a misstep or even the right step–all we can do is stride forward.
Keep walking.
And know that you have plenty more steps to take.
Be well,
Jay
*I literally sound like my 11 year old daughter here. She literally says “literally” every 15th word.
PS- I am playing with the aesthetics format, and timing of my posts/emails. Sorry for disruption. I hope you can forgive me : )
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