The Art of Forgiveness, or My First Step in a Long Journey…

“Individually, we are difficult. Together, we are impossible.” He said this to me yesterday, after our first joint-counseling session, and he is right.

We are energy people, and the energy is often palpable, perhaps a little salty, the consistency of homemade playdoh. But he, in particular, has the ability to manipulate his, to shift it, squeeze it, ball it up, and hurl it across the room—should he choose to do so. I, on the other hand, cannot do this. This is not to say that my energy does not shift or sway; this is to say that I cannot control it. We sat there together on a tattered couch in the center of a small room and watched this poor woman choke on what could only be felt but not seen. She didn’t know what to do with us; she couldn’t take a position, and she didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know. She had seen him once before. Neither of us will be going back.

I love deeply and hurt easily; I am not quick to anger. What I do not know is this: how to forgive. Forgiveness is an art form, like putting a brush to canvas or modeling tool to moist clay, and you may do this a million times before you are good at it or have a complete peace. Lao-Tse said, “a thousand mile journey begins with one step.”

I am on my way.