About a week ago it was winter again in Esperance, Western Australia. Storm clouds hung low and had everyone frustrated, Spring was short, much like youth.
A week later, Mother Nature has accelerated into summer. The jolt between seasons creates havoc and mayhem at night and leaves the sky bruised the next morning. The transition between black, indigo, purple, pink to shimmering pewter and gold is fleeting. Like a heart that forgives quickly, so does the sky.
Forgiveness has its own language, its own vocabulary, its own perspective, its own meaning … to those who choose it.
I have often wondered why I find myself in situations where I am vulnerable and consequently, need to forgive people. Why are some lessons harder to learn than others? Is there a power higher than myself that feels I need more practice at forgiveness? On reflection, I’ve come to my own conclusion.
Forgiveness is not an outcome. It is a place of renewal, a sanctuary, a place where you go to remember the good and the not-so-good. It is an opportunity to become new and whole again. It is a place where, once you ride out the pain, you can smile at yourself again.
Forgiveness is a gift of peace, to self.
Until next time
a dawn bird