I’ve heard it said that we must forgive ourselves, and only then do we develop the compassion to forgive others. With that in mind, I paste a poem which says exactly this. In spare and poignant beauty. Someone allowed me to reblog this the other day. And I will break down how I relate.
Original link from other person is a little ways down on my blog if anyone wants to visit the author site.
*
“I forgive you
For the seedlings that wilt, now,
in tiny pots, I forgive you.
For saying no first
but yes as an afterthought.
I forgive your letting vines
overtake the garden. For fearing
your own propensity to love.
For putting forth
only revisions of yourself,
with punctuation worked over,
instead of the disordered truth,
I forgive you.
For feeling awkward
and nervous without reason.
I forgive you. I forgive you. I forgive you.
For growing
a capacity for love that is great
but matched only, perhaps,
by your loneliness.
For being unable
to forgive yourself first so you
could then forgive others…”
*
For the seedlings that wilt. It’s fair to say I’ve had moments of wilting lately. Saying no at first and then yes as an afterthought. That is weakness in the face of alcoholism. That moment recently where I knew I should just get soup from a place that was not the cantina.
For letting vines take over the garden. I did not shave for many months at a time. Shaving is the Phoenix Rising for me. Also, neglecting mental health. Neglect in general. Did the best I could in the moment.
For fearing your own propensity to love. Because we don’t want to get hurt. So we shut down and withdraw.
“For putting forth
only revisions of yourself,
with punctuation worked over,
instead of the disordered truth”
I love that line so much. It’s loaded. It’s about hiding. Hiding even on one’s blog where you blog about stupid shit or do the daily prompt instead of facing and feeling buried pain, which is the essence of good writing.
It’s also about hiding in places where you don’t have to hide. We have to hide at work. We don’t have to hide in a support group. We sometimes hide anyway.
For feeling awkward and nervous without reason. Self explanatory. Anxiety. Perhaps there is always a reason, whether you are aware of it or not.
“For growing
a capacity for love that is great
but matched only, perhaps,
by your loneliness.”
Giving of yourself on the one hand, but not letting anyone in. Not really. Nights spent giving compassion to the world in your meditations, but not doing it out in the world. Because fear and avoidance. Nights spent harboring loving fantasies, but knowing that it isn’t likely to come your way until you break out of the cocoon and fucking fly.
ZeroSpace 