Forgiveness

I've been holding a grudge for quite some time now. I have a vague idea of where the rift began, and then how it snowballed. In the grand scheme of things, the transgression isn't really a big deal. But in the small scheme of friendships, it slowly became the proverbial pink elephant.


I had actually forgotten about it for awhile. But in the last few weeks, this nasty little pocket of bitterness smacked me in the face, and now I can't seem to shrug it off.

I can't seem to forgive, or even forget. And it sucks.

When I was in college I took yoga for one semester. At the end of each class, the teacher would instruct us to lie down and lead us through a series of relaxation exercises. We would finish up with a visualization technique - she would ask us to take the tension from our toes, our legs, our fingers, arms, and neck, and to stuff it all into a bubble, to hold the bubble in our hands, and then release it into the universe.

You chuckle at me, I know. And at the time, I did too. But over the years, I've tried this technique with modest success. And I'm trying it again tonight.

I am learning, all the time I am learning. Lately, I am learning that forgiveness has nothing to do with the transgressor. It is a choice that only the transgressed can make. And so my grudge is going into a bubble, and I'm releasing it into the universe. The words are proof to me that I've done so - that I've released the disappointment, and bitterness, and discontent; proof of my desire for a fresh start, a blank slate. And it's a reminder of the promise I am making to myself, and to the universe, to let go and to forgive.