The F Word

We had a big wind storm go through our neighborhood last fall, and some people who live by the lake had their stone chimney damaged by a branch from a big oak tree that grows right up next to their garage. It took the whole top off the chimney, and, as I drove by the house this winter, I'd notice the blue tarp that had been put over the damaged part until it was warm enough out to fix it.

Well, the warm weather has come, and the homeowners are making some improvements to the property along with getting the chimney fixed.  What is somewhat surprising is what they've done to the tree. Or rather, what they haven't done. Instead of cutting it down because it's in the way of their expansion (or because it thunked one of its big branches down on their chimney - and has plenty more where that came from to toss at them in another storm), they decided to build a new section of their garage and patio AROUND the tree - so it pops up through a specially-built hole in the roof's overhang. This is, in my opinion, a rather impressive act of forgiveness. 

Seeing their willingness to not only forgive but embrace that which has "done-them-wrong" got me thinking about my own ability to forgive. 

My self-assessment upon reflection: I am not a particularly forgiving person. 

I harbor anger, resentment, and petty jealousy about far too many infractions - real and imagined on my part - by friends, family, colleagues, et cetera - to be doing myself any good. And most of what I'm clinging to says more about my own failings than anyone else's.

This can't be healthy. 

I gotta let some stuff go.

So, I'm going to do a little spring cleaning of the soul, and you get to come along for the ride.

I'm not going to name any names, but my hope is that by committing to writing my intentions to forgive these folks - on the internet, no less, where everything is true and real - that I will be better at following through on forgiveness than I have managed to be in the past. 

Here it goes.

I forgive you for talking shit about me. I never heard your exact words, only the interpretations of others long after you'd said them. I'm going to assume that you were coming from a place of concern for me rather than intentionally trying to be mean. I hope you can forgive me for gossiping about you in an extremely seventh-grade moment of retaliation. That was small of me, and even though we're no longer really friends, you deserved better than that.

I forgive you for not being able to read my mind and know exactly what I want/need from you. You're on the mark more often than not, and I need to be better about appreciating that. For someone who doesn't actually live inside my head, you do a mighty fine job. I hope you can forgive my occasional lack of patience. 

I forgive you for succeeding at the things I still struggle with. Rather than feeling resentful of your accomplishments, I should be inspired and motivated by them to improve myself and tackle the tough stuff I've been avoiding. You are a wonderful person. I am proud of you; it just gets buried under far less-appealing feelings sometimes. 

Are there more I need to forgive? Of course. 

But there's only so much mental clutter I can carry to the curb at one time. 

For today, I'm making progress. 

And I forgive myself for not being able to get it all done at once.