Clothes Lines

God is in the details. Yesterday, I gave one of my clients a fistful of dried rose petals from the Coretta Scott King rose bush. It's in the backyard. planted between reputation and love/union/marriage, according to Tibetan Black Hat Feng Shui. This uses the front door as the key alignment instead of the traditional north-south compass.

As she continued her story, I laid my hands on her shoulder blades, sending Reiki along her spine, her angel wings. She was using the blue, pink, and purple sharpies on the clipboard paper to outline her letting go.

In therapy we say you know you're “over it” when you can speak about ”it” in a normal tone of voice. Or I think about Marianne Williamson forgiveness does not mean what happened was okay. It means it no longer affects you.

So I forgive myself for not following up on the health insurance today, or watering the backyard, let alone mowing. Since at least the laundry’s in the washer, not quite ready for the dryer, I give myself permission to write down these few lines. Closing lines. Clothes lines.

Release the Past

"Forgiveness does not mean that what happened was okay. It simply means that we are no longer willing to allow that experience to adversely affect our lives. Forgiveness is something we do, ultimately, for ourselves." —Christiane Northrup

What does forgiveness mean to you? Is there someone you need to forgive? Or someone you need forgiveness from? Or do you simply need to forgive your self?

Releasing the past does not necessarily mean letting go completely of what happened, but letting go of the trauma of what happened, and holding on to any essential wisdom from the experience.

A random example: I remember very clearly when my first cat Fatty died from lung cancer, the trauma of discovering his labored breathing, the rush to vet, the decision to put him down - all when I was about 8 years old. I remember my huge emotions in the backseat of the car as we drove home with the empty carrier, a combination of shock, guilt, grief, and anger - mostly angry at my Dad, who was not crying, unlike my mother and me, but mostly angry at that overwhelming feeling of, "Why? Why was this happening? How could we not know earlier? What could we have done sooner?" If I really allow myself to indulge in this memory I can easily start crying, despite it being 45 years later.

As an adult I learned that my Dad showed his emotions in other ways, and I also learned to pay more attention to the cats and the earlier red flags of disease.  Later, when I experienced the trauma of betrayal, divorce, going through the court system to get custody of my child, I remembered the lessons that I had learned from this childhood experience. That the most important question is not "Why is this happening?" but "What can I learn from this? How will this help me grow and become stronger?"

 I learned that while you will never really forget, you really can forgive.

Blessed be.