Kelly Loves Forgiveness

So my intention tonight was to write a teensy tiny post about forgiveness--a short one, focusing on how much I love my friends, who (I hope) have forgiven me for sending out an email asking them to sign up for my blog--and then proceeding not to blog. For days. For a week, even.

But the truth is that the topic of forgiveness deserves my actual love and attention, so now that I'm here I think I have to actually go for it.

Even though I should be reading a manuscript right now. Even though it's late, and I worked late, and I'm tired. I'm going to sit here and spend some time on forgiveness. Because forgiveness is worth it.

I should know; I've seen it up close and personal these past few weeks. And lo, it is good. As it turns out, it has a higher vibration than just about any other energy I can think of. In fact, I've come to see it as a sort of jetpack on the path of spiritual development.

Let me be clear: I'm not talking about granting forgiveness here. I'm not talking about saying, "This person did this awful thing to me and was mean and horrible but look at me, I'm like Jesus, I am benevolent. I forgive them for their evil behavior."

No, I'm actually talking about asking forgiveness. And specifically, asking forgiveness from someone who may in fact have wronged you.

I know--you're like, "Wha...?" Because that's not the kind of forgiveness we usually think of--not in reference to ourselves, anyway. Usually we are the heroes of our own human dramas, and as such we cast ourselves as the receivers of good things like forgiveness, and not the perpetrators of acts that require them.

But all I can tell you is that being in the presence of truth incarnate for five days (I'm speaking of my recent retreat with Adya here) kind of sandblasts your perceptions. While in his presence one afternoon I spontaneously began to cry. I cried because realized that I was deeply and truly sorry for the way I'd behaved toward one particular person in my life.

And it was damn surprising, because the person I was thinking of was someone who I'd previously cast as the victimizer, not the victim. The person I'd previously thought deserved my forgiveness, if anything. The person I might (just might) perhaps (if she was lucky) be able to forgive on my deathbed. THAT person. You know the one. You have one, too.

With the help of the world's greatest forgiveness coach, a.k.a. my friend Jenna, I wrote the person previously known as my antithesis a letter. And I said I was sorry.

For having been so angry. For having carried her around as an enemy in my heart for the past X months. For not having seen that she was doing the best she could at the time; for not being able to do better myself.

And you know what? It felt like a resurrection. (Which is apt, given this is my Jesus year--the big 33.) It's not like my life has changed outwardly, though I did win a friend back in the deal. The real transformation was on the inside. It's like this single act of surrender--of showing my heart and saying I was sorry--washed me clean. Having done that, I feel like I can do anything.

Even ask forgiveness again—right here, right now, from you.

Dear You, Beautiful Blog Reader,

I’m sorry for not having blogged this past week. I was busy; I had a houseguest; I did not make the time. I will try to do better next time.

With love,
Kelly