The 3 hardest words to say to yourself + others*

*it’s not what you think.

Danielle LaPorte mentioned the quote above in a tweet not too long ago. And as usual, her words were right on schedule.

Not unlike many others, I spent last weekend, glued to my television, as the news of George Zimmerman’s acquittal reverberated through the radio waves.
I was shocked. Yet not.
I was angry, frustrated and fearful.
I was sad.
A boy had been killed. And the man who pulled the trigger was walking away.
How do you even process such a thing?

Then, on top of that came the news that a young actor named Cory Monteith (star of the hit series GLEE, of which I’m a big fan), died in a hotel room in Vancouver that day, from what we now know is an accidental overdose of heroin and alcohol. More shock and disbelief.

Between these two events, on Saturday night, you could probably cut my grief with a dull kitchen knife. It was beyond palpable.
As I experienced the heaviness I grew more depressed and more angry.
So of course, the natural thing to do . . . is to pick a fight with your loved ones. And that’s what I did.
I lashed out at someone I loved. I cried uncontrollably. And if I’d really allowed myself, I would’ve loved to lay on the ground kicking and screaming. I was a HOT mess!
Even now, I can barely think of last weekend without tears coming to my eyes.

Then, acting on complete auto-pilot, I judged myself for being such a hot mess.
I blamed myself for the fight I instigated.
I blamed myself for my cat’s frighteningly slow recovery from anesthesia.
I blamed myself for watching too much TV (had I not watched TV I wouldn’t know about all these painful world events).
I blamed Zimmerman for being a cold-hearted racist.
I blamed Cory’s family for not trying harder to save his life.
I blamed my love or not understanding what I’m going through.
I blamed my sensitivity for making me so damn emotional.
I blamed my family for making me so f-ed up to begin with.
The blame spiral was in full effect.
Thank GOD, it didn’t last long.

I have a timer on my phone that goes off twice a day, reminding me to tap.
It went off and I immediately stopped, went to my desk, sat down and tapped about blame. And forgiveness.

In those moments where your internal saboteur is running the show, telling you all sorts of horrible things . . . forgiveness is the antidote.
Forgiveness is probably THE most powerful tool of change. Forgiveness lightens the load. It changes our energy. It changes everything. It allows happiness, gratitude and joy into our lives.
But (not surprisingly) forgiveness ain’t easy! It’s messy and intense and fraught with complications. It’s a true soul journey. I think of it like Frodo’s journey with the ring. Or Harry Potter’s journey to defeating The Dark Lord. Yes, I watch too many movies.
Nonetheless, forgiveness is where it’s at.

What and who do you need to forgive?

There’s nothing like a public declaration to cement it in stone.
I’ll go first.

I forgive myself for holding onto grudges for far too long.
I forgive myself for picking a fight last weekend with my love.
I forgive myself for judging others and judging myself.
I forgive myself for constantly feeling I’m not enough.
I forgive myself for eating that Tombstone pizza the other day (oops).
I forgive myself for not exercising when I know it’s good for my body.
I forgive myself for numbing out when I don’t want to deal.
I forgive myself for being fiscally irresponsible.
I forgive myself for not calling my sister more often.
I forgive myself for treating my parents with disrespect.
I forgive myself for being a “know it all”.
I forgive myself for not listening more than I talk.
I forgive myself for not being there when my god-daughter passed away.
I forgive myself for not spending more time with Greg + Grandma before they passed.
I forgive this country for putting my family in internment camps during WWII.
I forgive this country for banishing other parts of my family to reservations and stealing their land.
I forgive the companies who are contributing to the destruction of our planet.
I forgive the vet who dosed my kitty with too much anesthesia.
I forgive the guy in the Benz who cut me off in traffic last week.
I forgive the cars who almost ended my life outside of the cafe a few weeks ago.
I forgive the drug makers + dealers who are profiting off the pain of addiction.
I forgive George Zimmerman for killing an unarmed boy.

It’s hard to say these little three words :: I forgive you.
Most certainly harder than saying “those other three little words”.
It might seem that by forgiving, you’re condoning the actions.
That’s the farthest thing from the truth.
I don’t condone the killing of Trayvon Martin.
I don’t condone drug dealers.
I don’t condone eating a Tombstone pizza (though I’m not gonna lie, it was tasty).

By forgiving the seemingly unforgivable, I’m letting go of the anger and pain that’s destroying me on the inside. I’m acknowledging that it is painful and sad but that it’s not mine. I can’t do anything about it. I can’t personally go back in time and change it. So I’m releasing the guilt and the anger and moving on. I’m choosing joy instead of pain. Happiness instead of anger. Life instead of death.
That’s the best way I know, to honor the memory of Trayvon, Cory, Greg, Grandma, Mari, my family and ultimately, myself.

And the great thing is, you don’t necessarily need to go to the person you want to forgive and say it to their face. Just the act of releasing it out loud to yourself is enough to break its hold on you.

If you’re interested in reading some really great words on forgiveness, I highly recommend you check out Karla McLaren’s book The Language of Emotions: What Your Feelings Are Trying to Tell You.
You can read a powerful excerpt here.

What and who do you need to forgive? Can you bring yourself to utter those three little words? And if you’re willing, please share who and/or want you need to forgive in the comments below.

xo

Tagged as: inspiration, life lessons, personal growth, self-help, what i know