Forgiveness

Stop for a moment, and think about how powerful forgiveness is. Forgiving someone or allowing someone to forgive you can be the most liberating feeling you will ever experience. To hold onto resentment and allow it to consume you is the equivalent of a parasite slowly eating you from the inside. It becomes the entire focus of your existence and you can concentrate on nothing else.

Over 20 years ago I nearly let this get the better of me…

I had taken a summer job working for a forest products company. My co-workers were three other forestry students. The only background I had in forestry was that I was related to the manager, he was my father, although I was told that nepotism was not the only reason I got the job.

Since my experience was limited, I was often paired up with one of the two other more seasoned summer students. That was how I met Craig. Spending countless hours together in a truck traveling the company roads or out in the bush learning to cruise timber, we got to know a lot about each other. It was only a matter of time.

I remember our first kiss, vividly. The students were housed in tiny rental cabins about 10 minutes from town – being the only female I had one to myself. The three guys shared the other one which was two doors away. I had been fighting feelings I had for Craig for a while. He had never given me any indication that he felt the same way, so I was not about to make a fool of myself by blurting something out and then having to live with the consequences of my actions for the remainder of the summer. I obviously did not hide these feelings that well.

It was a windy evening. The cabins we were assigned were situated at the mouth of the English River and there were soaring views of Lac Seul from the doorsteps. I was feeling particularly out of sorts one evening, lamenting, as a young woman does, my solitude. I left my cabin and walked down to the shore to watch the sunset and the waves on the lake from the floating dock. I guess that’s why I didn’t hear anything or notice the dock move, until I felt an arm around my waist. Instinctively I knew it was him. We stood there, silently, as the waves rocked the pier. Slowly he turned me around and looked straight into my eyes. As I stared back I felt like I was looking into eternity. Our kiss was slow and gentle and if I close my eyes today, I can still feel his lips on mine. From that moment on the summer was ours.

Unfortunately, had I been able to think properly, I would never have been as hurt as I was. I should have realized this was a summer romance, that it would end in August when our contracts were up, but I blindly let my heart lead me. I should have known when I found the crumpled note in his truck that there was someone else in his life: “Hi there princess, I miss you…” He never called me “princess”.

I barreled on, with blinders, because it was what I chose to see. We went on a canoe trip, we shared photographs, we went fishing and spent many hours drinking on the dock where it all started. And at the end of the summer, when the windup BBQ was over and he took me home, I should have said, “That was a great summer! Thank you for the memories!” But I didn’t. I called and we talked. I missed him and he said he missed me too. He didn’t. He couldn’t, because the next time I called I was informed that he had moved out, and no, they didn’t have a forwarding address or phone number.

I was crushed into tiny pieces, and scattered. I was too lost in my own pain, and then the anger hit. I sat on that anger for over a year. I wrote letter after letter that I threw away. I let it stew and burn inside me. I held onto that fury like it was a lifeline. It became my raison d’etre. I evolved into an empty unfeeling shell.

And then one day I saw it in the card store. A simple card – a picture of an overgrown sidewalk with a child’s red wagon sitting on the cement, slightly askew, the handle leaning on the ground. It looked like it had been abandoned, the red wagon, my red heart. Alone, and overgrown. I bought it immediately and went home to write. All I needed was one simple sentence; “Last summer you hurt me deeply, but I forgive you, because by forgiving you, I set myself free.” I sent it in care of his parents’ address, never knowing whether or not he received it. It didn’t matter. The act of sending the card set my healing into motion. From that moment on I fully began to appreciate what forgiveness could really do. Maybe knowing its destructive force helped me to move on, and look at it in a different light. I do know that I have not allowed it to consume me in that manner again.

Life is too short. Forgive.

Uncertainty? Certainly…

There are times in one’s life where you come head to head with uncertainty – with decisions that need to be made in some cases, and in other cases, decisions that are completely out of your hands. Decision making in it’s own right is stressful, and you often wonder if you have made the correct choice – sometimes not knowing until years down the road whether the result was the right one for you or not. Because humans can logically breakdown the consequences of decision making, we are more accountable for our actions than other living beings on this planet that make decisions by instinct.

I am at a cross roads in my life where there are many uncertainties to deal with, and no instant decisions that I can personally make to have this go away. I have to trust that whatever happens will be for a reason. I also have to trust that once I do everything in my power that I can possibly do, I have to let fate take over. That way, there will be no regrets on my part (for more on no regrets, see the topic “Missed Opportunities” from April). I have lived regret-free for the last 8 months, and the feeling is very liberating. Knowing that I have done what is in my power to do, comforts me in the decisions I have made in my life. I can move forward with a positive attitude, and spread that feeling to others in my life.

My work life currently abounds with a certain degree of questionableness. Since the company for which I work was acquired via hostile takeover, employees are not confident that their present situation will hold for much longer. Many have already taken the plunge and have moved on to more secure environments elsewhere. Those of us who have chosen to persevere realize that our future could be in jeopardy yet we continue to hold fast. This decision for me is personal. I have chosen to remain. And with that, accept what may or may not befall me in the days and weeks to come. I may not have control over the eventuality of these consequences, but I have consciously relinquished that in favour of continued stability for the time being. Too many things have been happening in my life as of late and to further add to the ever-growing pile would be emotionally encumbering.

Questions are also arising in my personal life, from many points, and, though the learning curve is steep, I am finding the climb exhilarating and exciting. I have discovered many things about myself, which is rewarding in and of itself. I have discovered that I have a huge capacity for patience. I like the anticipation of what may or may not occur in my future and the decisions that are out of my hands are sweetly awaited. Once you have made the “decision to accept indecision”, you can be at peace with yourself.

We cannot expect to cruise effortlessly through life on a smooth pathway. There will always be bumps to slow us down and forks compelling us to make a new selection at each point. Life is a network of choices, and with each one comes a new array of options. The main thing is that you are constantly moving forward, confronting each obstacle as it arises. I think in life uncertainty will always be there, and if you keep that in mind then you’ve already begun to grade your own path to a life well lived.

Timely reflections…

While speaking, about many random topics, in an airport coffee shop with someone whom I’d only recently met, we stumbled across the matter of time. As we only had a scant ½ hour before my flight left, we were noting, wistfully, how nice it would be to “buy more time”. But upon further reflection, it was mutually decided that, as nice as that sounded, it would be likely the most abused purchase known to man. What makes time such a sought after commodity is the fact that is it completely non-renewable. “Use it or lose it”. That familiar saying cannot be more aptly applied.

As we continued our conversation the seconds ticked on, and we became all too aware that our very own time together was now limited. Conversation flowed, coffee was consumed and my impending departure hung over us like a heavy anvil on a thin string. Ignoring the weight didn’t make it go away entirely but it became lighter in our minds as we focused on other things, and touched and laughed and planned. You really only appreciate it after the fact. I look back on those brief 48 hours and think with wonderment how much I was able to learn, share, and become with this person I’d just met. Time can do many things to us if we let it, but I choose not to let it erase what was so preciously gained.

Finally the hourglass had given up its final grains of sand. I sipped the remainder of my coffee, threw my bag over my shoulder and we began to walk toward the gate, maintaining our discourse, still not letting it get the better of us. He had lightly joked earlier about recycling time not used in a virtual blue box, having it re-emerge at a later point disguised as another moment to spend together. So mentally I placed what little we had not used into that receptacle and stepped up to say my goodbye. We would become geographically challenged from this point forward.

As I walked away, I could not make myself look back – physically or mentally. The line was crossed, and, as tough as it was to accept that this time had depleted itself, it was equally easy to realize that this was time ‘invested’. Choosing what to invest it in was entirely a personal decision.

I knew by the vague twisting inside that I had endowed wisely, that my time was well spent and I had no regrets to leave with. Not even regret that we live so far apart. All things happen for reasons often unknown or unseen by us. The few cleansing tears I shed later were purposeful, proving to me that there was something there – a fine elastic thread stretched between two souls – and I was not planning to let go of it just yet.

Today and only today

Treating yourself well should be a given. We have only one body in which to live our life, and it will last only as long as we allow it. Physical, spiritual and mental well-being should be essential to our daily existence.

Some people spend more time on their car than they do on their body. They spend countless hours washing, polishing, shining, vacuuming, gassing up, driving and admiring their vehicle, and then turn around and light up a cigarette and shovel some junk food into themselves. Then they wonder why they aren’t happy with their life. Priorities are twisted in today’s world.

I thought of this as I went for a run this morning. Since I am not officially training for anything until October, I decided to just run and take in the morning. After a week of soaring temperatures this morning was cool and breezy – almost as if it was meant for me. I am not a heat runner so summers are difficult for me to train efficiently. I took this temperature drop as a sign, so laced up the shoes and headed out on my usual 10 mile route. I quickly got into the zone and realized that I had not run since last Tuesday (that’s five days ago!). It felt great. The feel of my blood pumping was like burning the carbon out of my engine, clearing my veins and straightening out my head. There were just too many things going on in that brain and I needed to organize, tidy and let go of them.

After six miles I slowed down and walked through the park – admiring the power of the muddy Red River to my left, the beautiful English Gardens to my right and the towering elm trees shading me from above. I breathed in the clean air, deep breaths, and exhaled the stresses, the loneliness I was feeling, the tiredness I had woken up with, and replaced it all with gratitude. Not only was I caring for my physical being, but my mental one as well. At seven miles I began to run again, a renewed sense of self and purpose taking over. I thought of the dinner for one I had made for myself last night – treating myself well. For if you refuse to do it for yourself, you can never expect someone else to.

I write this with more of an uplifted spirit than I have had in days. I have been able to approach each day singly, focusing on just the day, and what I want it to bring to me, and also what I can give back. Today I will spend with a friend who is more like a sister; we will visit another friend who is going through chemotherapy, and try to bring a beam of light to his face. Today I will smile at everyone I see, even if they cut me off in traffic. Today I will focus on today, and only today. And tomorrow? Well, wait until I get there.

Heat

Morning dawns hot, humid, my skin is sticky and I lay on top of the sheets to keep cool. Outside it is completely still; even the leaves can’t bear to move in this heat.

I pour a coffee and head to work. The dog walkers have already gone by – they are early today, or maybe I’m late. The walk to the bus is quiet, even the birds are silent – saving energy or hiding from the looming storm? The clouds are low – tree branches seem to reach into them and caress their soft bellies. The man on the radio talked about thunderstorms…feels about right. The air is gravid and stiff and I can almost feel it parting for me as I wade through. It closes behind me, filling the empty space I leave in my wake.

A breeze escapes from somewhere, twirls a few leaves on trees, playfully tosses a lock of my hair before dissipating into the heaviness, a short life, but productive in its passing. My bus sounds laboured – similar to the wheezing heard in -30 when engines refuse to work. It doesn’t like this heat but toils on regardless.

It is not yet 7:00 a.m. and already I feel tiny beads of sweat collecting at the small of my back. I look forward to the shiver as they combine and roll down my skin, cooling me every so slightly despite the warm temperature. The day is sensual in nature, and although the air-conditioned office will be welcome, a part of me is reluctant to pull itself from the sultry grasp of these few hours after dawn.

In heat we all move slowly, languidly, taking our time, like lovers exploring each other for the first time, tentative, yet passionate. Even at the end of the day, undressing unhurriedly pulling my shirt over my head, I delight in the feeling of the air beginning to move on my damp skin.
A cold beer hisses and the condensation makes it slippery to hold. I take a long pull and reflect.

Day one of the heat wave is nearly over. By the end of the week, tempers will be flying and people will be snapping at each other – they can’t stand to be out of control. So I savour this first day, because it is new, because the leaves haven’t yet begun to droop, and the sidewalks still get cool at night. I can still sleep with my windows open, soothed into slumber by the sounds of the night cooling off; distant traffic, the odd rustle of the leaves in the trees and the gentle hum of air-conditioners next door. Accepting what you can’t control is the trick to getting through each day.

Vagabonds and Writers

My vagabond dreamer
drives through the night
I map his progress
golden push pins
in a map stapled to my wall
tracing his journey

Cell phone speak
Scattered sentences
I place them carefully back together
while I lay beneath my sheets
holding tightly to his words
because they’re all I have

The intangible him
is always here
traveling through my thoughts
a ghostly mist
of man and memory
Any form brings comfort

Another call
Another town
Another gold pin

If I squint in the darkness
they twinkle like stars
reflecting the streetlight outside
I drift to sleep
in my private celestial universe
dreaming of the vagabond
and me

Becoming

Becoming who I already was took me 43 years. It wasn’t even that I was searching – I just happened upon her one day. It was as if she had been waiting patiently for me to reach this destination; she welcomed me without fanfare or celebration, just a gentle nod and brief acknowledgement – like arriving home on any given day to be greeted with “Oh hi, you’re home…how was your day?”

This familiarness nearly reduced me to tears because if affirmed in my mind that I belonged. I wouldn’t have to do any explaining, or worse, convincing, to guarantee my acceptance. The questions that were posed, however, were “Where had she been until now?” and “Why hadn’t she said/done something earlier?”, but most importantly “Why did it take so long to finally realize who I had been all along?”

So how did she find me? She was cleverly disguised as a mother, a writer, a runner, a computer programmer and wife. She lived inside my head, watching my life from within, and waiting for the perfect opportunity to emerge, to show her smiling face to the one who had almost forgotten how. It came unexpectedly, a sudden realization that this was not how she wanted to continue, and then becoming conscious of the difficult decisions that would follow and the guidance that would be required.

I can only surmise, and draw from my own thoughts and opinions, which has become my modus operandi in this series of self-revelations, that I wasn’t ready and would not have recognized her before now. I think that maybe we are only dealt what we can safely cope with, and even when we think we feel completely overwhelmed, somehow it is still manageable.

She has become a close friend to me. I like her. She laughs more than she ever used to, her thoughts are clearer, and she now understands and accepts who she really is, instead of burying it in the depths of the emotional closet. She is a beautiful person who I am very proud to know. And I can confidently state that she will be here for some time to come.