Loving kindness.
That's what I praise and that's what I believe in. But what happens when the real world gets in the way and there is a serious transgression? A true breach of trust? A feeling that you have been betrayed and that a relationship mutually built in which you placed your heart, soul, sweat and tears, becomes one that you question?
I find myself wondering is forgiveness and practicing loving kindness something that means that I have condoned the behavior of another?
I find myself wondering does loving kindness mean that I "look the other way" and that my own sense of betrayal is not important?
Do I compartmentalize those feelings, wrap them into a little box, where they could quite possibly fester and poison me?
How does one reconcile this situation?
At what point does another's actions which impact me cross a line (however honorably they think they have been motivated). Do they ever cross a line if you practice loving kindness?
This is where I'm at. I have always been a believer that we choose to decide how we react to a situation. And our reactions define us as people as much, if not more, than any other singular facet of our being.
Yet, I find myself questioning. I feel myself steering away from my own practice of compassion towards others and closing off. I feel little and threatened and angry. I know this anger is holding me down, but where do I put that anger? How do I manage it?
Will time be the great equalizer and slowly, with moments that become days, that become years, I will find balance moving baby steps forward, deciding that my won story and the well being of my community is more valuable than my anger?
Will I ever choose to invest my time and energy into another kindred relationship with so much spirit, warmth and compassion? Is my little light diminished because of my experience with what I perceive to be a betrayal?
Can I call on compassion and wisdom of experience to allow a special place that was once in my heart for someone to be filled by another? Can that place be filled again by that same person?
Loving kindness is about sending the one who has wronged you the acceptance and gratitude of life. It is not jealous; it is not proud, it is not angry.
It is the turn the other cheek mentality.
I write this today, because I am searching. Searching for that place in my heart to be consumed by kindness and compassion, not bitterness and reluctance.
So I write this story and perhaps it will help you as I believe it is helping me.....
There once was a girl who lived in the forest. It was a beautiful forest with tall pines all around. There was never a lack of food, nor did she ever feel lonely. Always there were creatures, bunnies, mice and birds, with whom she would sing and speak.
She spent many years in that solitary spirit, unworldly, the forest an umbrella, beyond a great unknown.
It so happens that a traveling saleswoman, with shiny wares and trinkets, enticed her. She had nothing to trade except for her own labor, which she reluctantly agreed she would work for this woman for three years, in trade for a bright sparkling ring. The girl left the forest and entered a world of color and sound. A world that pressed in close and showed her the brightest of lights and the darkest of darks. She met new people and she learned new things. The traveling saleswoman befriended her, and she placed all her trust in this woman, who was wise, trusting, and worldly. The girl, now a woman in her own eyes, knew that everything she had learned, all her knowledge of business, the arts, what it means to be human, good and evil, and of the cities, came from her friend, whom she now called her mentor.
The mentor never asked for anything, but that the girl keep her word. The mentor offered solace, sage advice, food and a warm place by her fire and in return she expected the girl to honor her commitment.
One evening, the last of their stay, when the girl was investigating the city, she encountered a fountain. A swan gracefully arched its neck to the sky, where water spouted.
The girl stood, staring, until two older girls approached with sketch pads in hand. They exchanged polite courtesies and the girl explained how dazzled she was by the swan, that she had never seen such a sight.
The girls offered her a once in a lifetime chance. They were employed by the sculptor who had designed this swan. He was right now in the city, and she could meet him, and travel also with him. they grasped the young woman's hand, and she pulled back slightly, reluctant to go, her mentor had given her only this night to alone ponder the pathways and search the sights.
Yet the girls spoke so smoothly and their stories were so sordid of their travels to exotic places, where giants roamed jungles, that she acquiesced. She indeed felt her actions were wrong, but the thirst for adventure was so great in her now, she pushed those aside. She did not think of time in years, she was in this moment.
Her mentor waited all night for the young woman, who did not show. By daybreak, she was frantic, as the girl had never left her side for so long before.
She searched, calling out to the girl whom she had come to love with all her heart, in whom she had placed her affection and revealed her secrets.
She soon found the place of the swan, and, calling out the girl's name, was approached by a boy had had been spying when the girl had left with her companions. In return for a small craved wooden horse, he explained what he had seen.
The mentor denied the girl had abandoned her. She refused to believe she would go without even a kind word of parting.
Yet, she could only wait so long in the city before moving on.
She never saw the girl again, nor was she the same person she had been before she met the girl.
With grief, she piled her bags, thrust them over her shoulder, and placed one foot in front of the other, heading away, to a place for which she was destined, a road divided from the girl.
She saw time stretch like a rubber band and understood that her choices were her own, as were the girl's.
~May you find the ability to forgive as I am trying to forgive the girl.
With grace,
April
