it is often hard to forgive. and it is imperative to know which people and situations can be forgiven with ease and grace and which will take time…sometimes a long time…to forgive.the well-known, american, buddhist teacher jack kornfield reminds us,
“We have all been betrayed, abandoned, hurt or abused. We have all betrayed, abandoned, hurt, or abused others. The world is full of greed, hatred, racism, injustice.”
hurt happens to us all. it is human and universal. and we usually hurt, and are hurt by, those who mean the most to us. it is in our heart that the hurt lies, in that most intimate space, as a dark miasma or a raging fire.kornfield then goes on to tell us,
“Forgiveness is an invitation to remember the transforming power of our own heart. It is a reminder there is another way . . . living with compassion.”
compassion too lives in the heart…a deep, spacious openness that is also intimate.
rabbi zalman schachter-shalomi put it another way. he teaches that our lack of forgiveness imprisons both ourself and the other. we are both shackled in the fog of resentment, anger, grief and pain which often festers over decades. we have become our own jailer, for we must stay in jail with the other. we are limited by our inability, or unwillingness, to forgive. we have limited our ability to give and receive love, that most intimate of emotions. our vitality is restricted. and we stay stuck in the prison, unable to move on with life.
holding on to grudges is often a reflection of the need to be “right”, to prove our own moral high ground. to release those holdings brings us onto a level field with the other. we can then begin to find ways of repair. while we may not find love again, we can open our hearts to life again.there are some pathways to forgiveness which we will consider in the next few blog posts.
meanwhile, let us all hold the practice of forgiveness in our heartmind.let us begin to walk the elder’s path of life repair.
can we reframe those events? can we begin to look at the situations which we regret as those that forge us into the complete humans we aspire to be? are they not the spur to growth?this reckoning is not a mere gloss, a covering over of what we have done and the sadness we feel about our actions. our heartfelt desire to have “done it differently” is the mark of a shift in consciousness. it is a mark of humility that ennobles our growth. the very fact that the memory awakens some pain demonstrates that we have learned from the experience. in our current state of awareness we would act differently.it is also the beginning of what, in the jewish tradition, is called t’shuvah. this word literally means “turning”. it is a change in direction, a new path, a return to wholeness. in most faiths there is a way of turning to a connection with the divine.
in our contemporary world we can use both traditional and newer forms of return. we can daily re-orient ourselves before sleep and take account of the day’s events. each week we can look deeply at our behaviour toward ourselves and others. monthly, in time with the new moon when the sky is darkest, we can shine a light into the soul and see a larger picture where patterns emerge.and finally, an annual reckoning allows the eye of the eagle to come into play. in the jewish tradition this takes place on yom kippur, the day of atonement (at-one-ment). this is the moment of the deepest self-forgiveness. we are then free to ask forgiveness of those we have injured and to offer forgiveness to those who might have caused us pain.in such ways we return to our sacred centre…connected and whole.
it burns brightly, fiercely. sometimes it might be dampened. at other times it may seem almost out of control. this fire is the beauty in our eyes, in our passion, in our voices. it is the radiance we develop as we grow into elderhood.crossing the threshold from adulthood to elderhood allows this fire of inner beauty to show itself.
how impoverished we are as our culture recognises only the beauty of the current standard of good looks. how denigrated is the beauty of wrinkled skin which reflects the many streams of tears shed.
how denied is the beauty of white hair which reflects decades of experience.
how rejected is the beauty of a slow pace which reflects the ability to observe, to be present to life’s passing display.
how dismissed is the wisdom of elders which reflects days and nights of learning and growing.
and, in spite of all of this exclusion, there is a fire that burns, the fire of longing to express what we know, the longing to connect, the longing to be valued, the longing to be.the step into elderhood, the process of growing into the depth of realisation, creates a re-firement. with it comes excitement, the ability to see beyond the stereotypes and the rejection to a space of creativity, vibrance and peace.this re-firement is the light that comes from the soul.
is it a journey only into the difficult past? is it only the memory of failings, failures, mistakes, regrets?can we also awaken to, and hold as sacred, everything that has happened. often, the errors arise first, the regrets. and then, if we can allow it, the joys, the connections, the learnings, the sunrises, the irises in bloom.
it is this harvest, available on deep reflection, that gives meaning and depth to all we’ve experienced. in the sacred space of contemplation, of stillness, we gather in the richness of life.then, in this space, we can honour ourselves into elderhood. we become the vessel for wisdom and can create a legacy for those who follow on the journey. they may be younger than we are or they may be our peers. they are all on the journey.the conversations can be held on the doorstep of the temple, guidance can be given.
and yet each of us must enter the temple of memory alone. each solitary step takes us deeper into the plenitude of a life. each solitary step brings us into the sanctuary of greater understanding, greater compassion and greater generosity.our solitary steps bring us into connection with others as they experience their temple.we can leave markers that lead to the door of the temple of memory, so that, in the end, we share together in community, the awakening into elderhood.
Don't think I need your chattering.I'm listening to myself.Hold! Stop! Don't pity me!Hold! Stop your sympathy!Understanding if you get it,Otherwise, I'll do without it. When my bones are stiff and aching,And my feet won't climb the stair,I will only ask one favor,:Don't bring me no rocking chair.
When you see me walking, stumbling,Don't study and get it wrong.'Cause tired don't mean lazyAnd every goodbye ain't gone.
I'm the same person I was back then,A little less hair, a little less chin,A lot less lungs and much less wind.But ain't I lucky I can still breathe in.~~~~maya angelou
the poems can be written at any time of life or at the author’s imminent death. almost universally they contain a meaningful observation on life. this is one of my favourites, written by the most famous poet of the edo period in 15th century japan, matsuo basho. autumn night don’ think your life didn’t matter
it is an autumn night, a life approaching near to its end. it is a time of reflection, of introspection, of contemplation. at this moment we might reflect on the challenges, losses and accomplishments of a lifetime. there may be thoughts of “not good enough”, or “i didn't do enough”, “i’ll just sit and wait to die”.or we might take these reflective moments to know deeply inside that all life matters. we are all important energies in the world, regardless of what we have done or not done. we are each unique, a facet on the jewel of life.in the autumn of life we have the capacity to reframe and repair, to find forgiveness in ourselves (both for ourselves and others), to transform the paradigm of ageing. it is in the autumn of a life that we have enough experience to grow wisdom and to manifest that wisdom as a gift to all those we touch.no matter what the season outside the window, the autumn of life is filled with potential when we live it with curiosity, compassion and open-heartedness. each day can be filled with adventure, even when we can’t leave the chair.
it might be the inner adventures that fill our life in its autumn. it might be that then we know that our life matters.