If there is one thing I can do and do well, it’s hold a grudge. Forgiveness does not come naturally to me.
I am still angry at my dog for ripping up my woolen beanie. An incident that occurred months ago.
I often replay the scene. I remember walking in and seeing pieces of navy blue wool strewn around the house. Following the trail of destruction from the front door to my bedroom. Becoming more horrified with every step, before finding the gutted beanie carcass underneath the bed and my dog nowhere to be seen.
You see, something as insignificant as the destruction of my second hand woolen beanie bothers me to the point of unyielding rage, so I’m sure you can only imagine what plagues my mind when the stakes are higher.
You’ll have to imagine it, because I’m not ready to expose the naked truth of what truly poisons me.
You see, I understand that forgiveness is for yourself. It is not intended to free the perpetrator, but that’s how it feels. Like letting go of it will somehow release them from their crime and guilt. Much like a sadist I believe in maximum punishment. Even if I do hide those thoughts under rational nods, and wide toothy grins, don’t be mistaken, the anger lives on.
Holding on to grudges has brought no joy to my life. I have not benefited from consistently stoking the fires of hate, betrayal and fear. Thumbing the pages in my little black book. A record of transgressions, some monumental others minor, all set in stone.
Ready to be taken to the grave.
You see, you can’t truly be present if you are determined to live in the past. Despite all the blessings in my life, my inability to forgive means that I am stuck. That I choose to give the best of myself to the agony, letting that pain fuel and guide me. I shall never make the same mistakes twice and never again fall for the same traps. A vow and a challenge.
A curse that I spellbind to my soul.
I don’t know how to make forgiveness stick. How to mean it genuinely. I can read the script convincingly but wish to master the art so that I stop tearing open old wounds and finally let them heal.
So that I can be still and recognise calm over chaos.
I change every day. I don’t want to be remembered for the mistakes I’ve made and the people I’ve hurt along the way. Just as I’m sure those people don’t wish to be judged by somebody as imperfect as me.
We do the best we can with what we have today.
And today I need to wrap forgiveness around me. I need to feel her caress, the smell of her hair and the feel of her skin. I need to embrace her, to dance with her, to hold her through darkness and praise her in light. I need to be enamored with her for she is the companion of happiness.
But forgiveness us an elusive mistress.