In the rare quiet moments of myself I find myself forgiving. Forgiving others that have hurt me, forgiving situations that have affected me, forgiving the people closest to me that have either belittled me or taken me for granted. Deeper I go, the more raw the wounds. These have never really healed, instead they have been camouflaged with the proverbial bandage of dismissal. Most of us are well versed from a young age to grow shields around our wounded hearts and managed to “shoo” away the darkness that shadowed our lonely heart in a desperate effort of self preservation. Yet dismissing the insult is a akin to putting away a half read interesting book on the highest of shelves secretly hoping to have the time to read it later, but also acknowledging that the location of where it sits high on the book shelf, the odds are remoter still of accessing it.
In the quietness of my heart these wounds call out for absolution. The ego calls it vengeance, my soul calls it forgiveness. A wound must be opened, debrided and given the opportunity to heal naturally. It is in this where I find that even the rarer moments of myself emerge. Not to forgive another, yet to forgive myself for ever being hurt. To feel the pain, mixed with the unbearable hot salt in to the wound suffers the agony yet also is the antiseptic that is needed to enable healing. I realize I cannot live my life without ever letting my heart from being wounded for that is how I will grow and evolve. However it is in these hurts I learn to forgive others AND myself and learn to not be hurt again.
This lesson is not taught so that I may roam free with arrogance and hatred for others so that my shield is strong enough to never feel. Quite the contrary. The biography of the biology of forgiveness for myself begins with myself embracing compassion. Yet again this does not begin with the age old idiom of “compassion for others first” but more “compassion for myself first” . The “others” is mySelf. If I am not fully healed what hope do I ever have of healing others through my compassion and forgiveness when my very own cup is never full. A cup of love that runs over spills its contents over an infinite sized table. A full cup spills it infinitely over the entire table.
Compassion and forgiveness have long held hands in their journey to love. Both must begin with the Self and for the Self before they reach out any where. Different yet same. Compassion is the tool through which forgiveness is forged. Compassion understands where forgiveness accepts. The duality of the two are manifest in the face of Love. Each cheek surround this face. At times both are slapped to awaken the love within the heart space.
Forgive others who insult you? Sure.
Compassionately forgive yourself for ever being hurt.