Forgiveness V

Christopher suggested I start by forgiving myself. Well, yeah. Been working on it for close to 15 years now. But it's like those golf balls with the tough outer shell and the core wrapped round and round with rubber bands. Have/Do I forgive myself? I think the outer shell is off. I've snipped through some of the rubber bands. I wouldn't say I was done yet. Will I be dead then?

It took it awhile to realize that if I treated my neighbor like I treated myself, I'd be arrested. Today that still small voice, the one that says, "You could have done better," lurks quieter. When I read my writerly friends' journals where they talk about what they've written, revised, and sent out, guilt nibbles at the backside of my soul, even while I proclaim how proud I am that I've been an utter sloth since I arrived in Texas. Really. I lie around and read books, let the dishes stack up until I need one, which actually isn't very long because I won't unpack the boxes either. I'm looking for work in a desultory fashion, like when I damned well feel like it, which I mostly don't. And I'll look even less now that a contract for this month wandered in of its own accord. I felt good when I sat down today to lay out a book.

I've just about forgiven myself for what I did or didn't do for my son. I've been doing the let go exercises for some time, and made a big jump forward when I waded through the mound of educational supplies in the basement before we moved. I gave them away and realized that I really had strained beyond my income, time, and ability to give him all the advantages I could think of. So when he wrote me a few days ago to say that he'd gotten a speeding ticket and had let his insurance lapse, I felt no guilt or shame whatsoever. Snip a few more rubber bands.

Have I forgiven my body for aging? Tricky. I have a lot of dance training and used to run moderately long distances. The last race I trained for was 15K. I do notice the downhill spiral of my capabilities, as well as the tired, sagging face. I was pretty once. For awhile. In recent memory even. How much do I care? How honest can I be about that? One reason I haven't called old friends here is that I don't want anyone to see me 25 pounds heavier and looking that many years older. Most of them are younger. They wouldn't understand. Yet.

And just what is giving yourself a break versus goofing off? I try to keep my promises to God, to others, and even to myself, the hardest of all. So often it seems that promises are just for while you feel like it or when it's convenient. At what point is something impossible or just difficult?

I keep looking for a rule book, and the only thing I hear is that every situation has to be dealt with on its own merits in its own time. Sure does make zoning out and coasting through life impossible. Who wants to live in the present moment when my fantasy moments, even those I label "past" and "future" are so much more interesting?

Thanks, Christopher (for the opportunity to be fair and balanced as well as the link).

6:17:47 PM