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Time is most irrecoupable thing you have. You are granted so much of it, waste it, and then there is no more of it. In being able to love yourself, the hardest part of loving yourself is being able to forgive yourself. There is no one whom can punish and hate you like you can yourself. We are often strong enough to lash out at other people, but are we strong enough to not lash inward?
We lash out, hate ourselves often over lost time. Realizing you have invested into something which is ultimately squandered, is hard. The hardest thing is to admit it was you whom squandered, you who didn’t listen, and it is now you that must fix it. However, in that honesty, you still cannot save or regain the time you have lost.
This is the hardest thing. It is so difficult because we as people want so badly to save things, hoard them, use them as we see fit–time is not one of those things. Time is the thing we hustle for, grab it, and lose for the lack of paying attention.
In forgiving yourself, you allow yourself to see there are two points of time along this journey. There is the time you lost, and the time you now have. Which direction shall you go?
In choosing to remain fixed on what is lost, and cannot be changed, you will never be able to see what lies before you in the time you have. Forgiving yourself is the beginning of readjusting our focus. It begins to allow you to see the situation in which you lost time as an experience you learned from, will learn from and not to do again.
Forgiving yourself allows you to heal from that loss of time and self.
By no means is this easy, I promise you it isn’t. But in order for you to go on and go greater things, you must be willing to admit where you are benefits nothing. Being resentful of lost time only makes you lose more time.
You are entitled to having a history.
However only you are doomed to repeat it.
One of my favorite quotes in all of literature or poetry is this by Dylan Thomas:
“Rage, rage against the dying of the light…”
This poem Do Not Go Gentle is written about aging, and by virtue of aging living bravely until there are no more days in which to do so. I am fond of saying there are only some things which are only, can only be expressed through ink: tattoos or otherwise. I think our dear Mr. Thomas captures that quite incredible.
It is easy to give up, dear ones. It is comfortable to say what you cannot do, will not overcome especially as you wander through this life with the grace of age. It is easier to abandon dreams in favor of what it practical, safe and tangible. However, there is an element to this life which as you age, you will encounter more than once. I call it the knock.
My best friend and co-collaborator says often “step into your greatness” and “don’t get stuck the weeds.” Simply stated, this means don’t let you stop you.
Don’t let you stop you.
In this new year 17 days old, you have every opportunity set before you to manifest all you desire to become. No one will shove you towards this ideal self, but there will always be hints as to what you are supposed to do. There are nudges that guide, and there is the knock.
This incessant intrusion into the life crafted perfected which as you ignore will soften, and urge. This sense there is more to this life than that which you have crafted for yourself. The longer your ignore it, the more push it away, the harder the knock will become when it resurfaces. It will make itself known as it did for me–I decided nursing could not be all God wanted for me. The clothes of a nurse no longer fit–my power, my talent for healing was found in words and storytelling.
Walking away from what I knew to be safe an lucrative was liberating. Indeed, flying without a net. Yet, this was the thing I had done since I was 8, and committed to do at 16. The knock, my knock, was steady, it was certain and I knew once I admitted this was what I was supposed to do, I ran after it.
I raged against the dying of the light.
The years I lost towards becoming an alien in my own life, I was determined to not lose another second on my journey.
I won’t say it’s been easy. It has been one of the most difficult things I have had to do. Yet, I had no choice. Why? The knock. This divine resonance which the Almighty wouldn’t let me give up on, and push me towards, and sustained me until I could hear it again.
Don’t fear the critics, beloved. They come because that’s all they can do. They criticize to remind you to focus. They come so your God can set the table in the midst of your enemies as He promised you He would. Critics cannot stop you, they can only equip you.
You don’t see eagles in henhouses.
Not all whom are for you, are for you. Yet there more people waiting to see when you will answer your knock. You are more than what you know. You have all you need to do all you seek. The first thing you need to do is listen–in the listening, you can then open the door. You are not too old. It is not too late.
It’s not too late.