Forgiveness
We think we forgive, but we forget. We repress, we overpaint, we erase things and experiences from our memory in order not to have to deal with them any more, and so we become entangled in the great lie of the "forgive and forget" proverb. We all know it, have said it and heard it countless times, but do we really know when to forgive and when we think to forgive, but actually just forget?
This question takes me far back in my time, and although I am a great proponent of the present, I find that the ability to be present in the moment lies in being at peace with the past. So yes, often it is necessary to go back another ten small steps in order to be able to take a giant giant step into the present.
He lights his cigarette. I realize that I only have 6 precious minutes to convey my pain to him and convince him of our already faded but still present friendship. Hope dies at last and the willpower seems stronger than ever. This is my last chance. I start the conversation with the usual question about his well-being. The answer seems dismissive and one-sided, yet I think confident. This trip combines hate, love, longing and friendship and I know there is no better place to do it than this enchanting Spanish coast. We had both climbed onto the plane with expectations, but both of us were unaware of the turning point of a possible conversation. When I think about how I could keep this conversation going, he asks me without hesitation why I had flown with him. His question, however, turns into a rhetorical one. I think he doesn't expect an answer, but wants to kindle a feeling in me. A feeling of weakness and loneliness. And that's exactly what I'm feeling right now. My body is still, my mind is running marathon. To present myself more relaxed than I feel, I take a puff of my cigarette. He doesn't pay much attention to me. His gaze is more towards the sea. Reflecting the lights of the opposite city makes the tense atmosphere feel a little more harmonious. He realizes that my eyes are only on him. As I answer him with a lie, I notice that a third of his cigarette has already disappeared into thin air. I'll get to the point and wait for his reaction. He still devotes his attention more to the sound of the sea. His eyes do not depart from the horizon. Still cold - like the nights of the desert - he gives me a one-sided OK and tells me that this is not the expected answer. When he asks me how I am after another 30 seconds of silence, memories are awakened. My thought journey starts in the deepest part of my brain – five years ago. As a newcomer to town, I met him through an acquaintance. Since we first spoke, nothing has passed by. We spent countless precious days and nights together. Filled with conversations, laughter, secrets and tears. Tears of friends, tears of sadness. In the darkest weeks, he was the hand that kept me from drowning. My thoughts become more intense within a thousandth of a second and I suddenly and unexpectedly end up in the night in which we could not have been closer. We touched, kissed and confided in each other and our bodies. I feel his every touch once more as I watch him pull his cigarette. The cremation takes me back to the ground of reality, to the Spanish window balcony, which we have been sharing for four minutes now. The weakness overwhelms me and so I confess to him my current feelings. How bad I am, how much I miss him and the time with him, I let him know from my answer. At that moment, I forget everything around me. The rushing sea, the Spanish flair, acquaintances dancing in the room behind us. I even forget my intoxication, which originally gave me the courage to have this conversation. It's the first time in five months. Five months without any contact. No calls, no messages, no “hello” in the corridor of our school. We treat each other like air. Air that you don't perceive, but you need to exist. The cigarette is coming to an end, and so is our friendship. As the seconds pass, I become more and more aware of what a mistake this conversation is. Hoping there was something to hold on to after all that happened last summer suddenly seemed more reckless than ever. I feel myself shrinking with fear and self-shame. I get a feeling that was more familiar to me from inscrutable whiteness than I thought. I see my 12-year-old self in an imaginary mirror. I see hope, fear, anger and naivety as I measure myself. Never before has a human given me such an inferior feeling. Is it some sort of triumph for him to see me in this position? In these 5.5 minutes, more emotions come up than I ever thought possible. How does a person manage to question your whole personality through a simple, unintended and ill-considered gesture? I have self-doubt. The question of whether I take responsibility for everything that has happened is my thoughts. Hoping to recognize it in its expression, I look up from my almost finished cigarette. I'm starting to realize that I'm getting closer to the last minute together. With the tobacco of our cigarettes, 524,160 minutes of a relationship I never wanted to end are also dissolved. I feel lost in his eyes as I wait for his reaction. Nothing. Nothing but the fall of his cigarette butt, the fall of five years of friendship and a “I thought so!”
Some readers may now get the feeling that they know what it is all about. Let me explain it anyway, because it is not a personal experience, it is more about and illustrates my finding and experience of forgiveness.
I wrote this short story three years ago. Some readers recognized the true events, others were touched or inspired by the words. For me, writing, publishing, and accepting these events was one of the first conscious experiences of forgiveness. It was probably one of the most painful times and the feeling of not being able to escape the restlessness I found every morning when I opened my eyes and woke up from my sleep. One day I decided to write down my feelings, my fear and the sadness I felt, and so came this precious short story. I felt free and felt for some time the feeling of what I thought was forgiveness. I blocked every conversation about my experience in front of others with a self-confident "forgive and forget". My environment picked up on this pretty quickly and felt a kind of pride to see me in this stage of forgiveness. But as soon as I escaped this comfortable environment, I realized that although I had forgotten exactly what was happening and what emotions were there, this "forgiveness" did not feel like relief and love. It still hurt, especially once I allowed my soul to take a journey into the past. I also realized that with these thoughts and feelings, I am giving space to the past and thus withdrawing something from the present. In my behavior in the coming month, I noticed very much that I was trying too hard to change the past with present actions. My inner desire to forget was greater and stronger than that to forgive. I still did not fully accept what was happening and tried to control everything present.
But how did I come to conscious forgiveness?
I think the more detailed I try to describe it, the more you get lost in a mind game and questions of your own. I would give you the opportunity to compare your individual events with mine or others, and if there is one thing we should all be aware of, it is the fact that comparing things, situations and oneself with others leads to nothing but more comparisons and open questions. We're all individual people with individual events and feelings, it suddenly seems logical not to compare ourselves with others, doesn't it?
A soul I've met in the course of my recent trip through Australia is experiencing a time when forgiveness is the medicine that allows it to feel happiness again. By the way, when I talk about forgiveness, it can be forgiveness to someone or to yourself, at best both.
When he briefly enlightened me about his current feelings, I felt as if a higher self, a higher energy, was speaking to me, and without considering whether it would really suit my situation, I wrote the following:
"You are the only person who allows certain situations and feelings to have the power to destroy yourself. Don't try to fight against it, but try to take it as it comes. Because with acceptance there comes forgiveness, and with forgivness comes peace and in the end there will be lots of love waiting for you if you live within peace instead of fear, anger or hate."
SItuations and events that require our forgiveness in order for us to grow and bloom like a plant are usually very painful, filled with hatred or sorrow. This is what makes forgiveness incomprehensibly difficult, no matter how much we believe otherwise. If we think more carefully and rationally about it, everything suddenly makes sense. Of course, we don't want to feel anything like hate, anger or sadness, so we fight it. But if we struggle not only against the emotion, but also against the moment and all the events that come with it, we have already lost and are further than nearer to forgiveness. Mistakes aren't mistakes if you take them instead of, pain doesn't feel painful if you allow it, don't fight it. Feelings are here to experience them, to feel them. When we accept and accept the situation, whatever it may be, with all the consequences and emotions, we reward ourselves. For we allow the universe, God, a higher energy, and ourselves to accept life, to live, and are thus ready for anything that may yet come.
Since my first conscious forgiveness, I've noticed how I can make any situation, no matter how unpleasant and unwanted, into something that feels so much better than "right" or "wrong." Suddenly it is no longer difficult for me to see the good in all the evil, to not let hope sink, however deep the waters and to feel love so intensely in every encounter and every moment. Hatred and anger are suddenly out of place and you allow your soul to experience a piece of the past with the awareness of turning it into a positive present. As with all things, there is no "good" or "bad", there is only you, your consciousness and your intention that you bring with you.
Comments