I want to be happy, and share my gifts with the world. So, I must be willing to forgive. A lesson well learned in my time.
My love and I watched The Shack last night. It was the first time for her, the second for me.
I will be honest, the first time I saw it I was left numb, with tears streaming down my face (I don’t fear admitting that even masculine energy sheds tears). I wasn’t sure what to make of how I felt, or the fog that I was in as I rose from my seat. All I knew was that I was wiping remnants of tears from my face wondering what the fuck had just happened.
Art can, it seems, expose the deepest parts of our souls. It can expose the cracks in our armor and show us the places where water seeps from the stone.
Despite what appears to be poor ratings in Rotten Tomatoes, I highly suggest you read the book or watch the movie. I won’t spoil the movie for anyone who hasn’t seen it, but I will describe what wept from my heart as it unfolded.
While pain seems to be the focus of the story, it really isn’t. Forgiveness is the plot line, with pain being the catalyst for the plot to unfold. The story beautifully describes how I see the process of experience. Experience, for me, has always been a series of things known and discovered through contrasts. We know joy from sadness, light from darkness.
And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. ~Book of Genesis
(Contrast. What good would one be without the other?)
Forgiveness can be one tough cookie, and it is meant to be. We all experience varying levels of emotional trauma in our lives. It seems to me that that more cutting that trauma is the tougher the act of forgiveness. Emotional trauma is like lifting a very heavy weight that we just never seem ready to let go of. Our proverbial limbs quiver, our bodies shake yet we just don’t drop the weight.
Forgiveness is, in its beauty, the act of dropping the weight. Usually, though, it’s not as simple as letting go. We all have a need to share the pain inflicted on us and soon those closest to us begin look like our tormentors in the Id. In the absence of the abuser in our midst, others bear the fury of our pain, of our hopelessness, and of our fear.
Until we forgive our tormentor. Then a miracle happens, and there is no more pain or fear to share. It vanishes like a twilight when the Sun rises, and evaporates like the dew at high noon.
Anger is like drinking poison expecting the other person to die.~Buddha.
During the movie, I felt my mother’s presence. I couldn’t tell if it was around me or in me, but it was there. I could feel the pain in her that caused her behaviors in my childhood.
I uttered for at least the millionth time, “I forgive you.”
I felt my loving hand touching her childhood cheek, telling her it would be alright.
I felt my young hand holding hers. “You will be fine.”
I felt my teenage heart whispering to hers, “I will forgive you one day.”
Then I felt my soul touch hers and say, “I do forgive you. I truly, honestly, with all my heart forgive you.”
More weight fell, and as it did I realized I still am carrying some childhood stones in my pocket. It’s fine, I forgive myself for carrying them.
Our abusers, it seems, can stare at us back in the mirror most times. Until we forgive, we are usually the worst abusers we will ever know in our lives. We abuse others but, mostly, we abuse ourselves.
Something strange then happened as the tears again streamed down my cheek. I thought I heard her say, “Thank you, Tommy. I am sorry, and I am waiting. You are my son, and I am proud of who you have become. I’ve taught you well, although I wish I could have taught you in another way, a way I just did not know.”
Sometimes our paths are the only ones we know, the only ones we can see, the only ones we can find. Especially when we are unable to drop the weight and forgive.
More stones fell. The sound they made as they hit the earth sounded like a symphony. Good music is created by good energy. Sometimes so are tears.
(The book the movie was based on is by Wm Paul Young. Enjoy it!)