I did not know it, but I had been going about my life holding a deep pain, a feeling of separation from someone I loved so much, they could be a part of my body. The gulf between us had grown so wide that we had not exchanged words for longer than I could remember. Nothing happened, outwardly, we never said hurtful things to one another or declared a separation. Suddenly, we were disconnected.
And I felt alone. I felt deserted. And, because I felt powerless to ask for that which must be given without request, I covered my woundedness and continued my path.
And now, unexpectedly, after so much time, this face is before me again. Without bridges, explanations, acknowledgment of what occurred, or stopped occurring.
I like to think of myself as “big enough” to let go. I preach forgiveness. And there I am, surprised that I am holding a wound and gazing on this beloved being, feeling separation and resentment.
In my mind, I know there is nothing to forgive, I know whatever happened or stopped happening is really not about me.
But I cannot feel the truth of this. My heart is hard with the effort of staving off pain.
I wonder if this is how I will remain, if this, stone-hard, is who I will remain.
But I am offered a miracle, my coach’s voice, that can speak in the tones of this person I love. I feel their pain, too. The quiet distance between us has not wounded me, alone. And my mind was right, it was not about me. Only this time, hearing the tones, my heart can feel it, know it.
And my heart can now release from contraction, softening and opening, like a bud under the sun. And there is no more hurt, no more resentment, no more fear.
I can recognize my wholeness and offer open-handed love.