“P.S. Help me, don’t hurt me” was the post script to a note written in pink pen that I’d discovered in a box of old things. The note, written 30 years ago, brought a flood of memories back to a time when I was a very wounded young woman. A time where I was just beginning to process some traumatic experiences in my childhood and I was consumed by my own pain. A wave of guilt moved through me as I read her note imploring me to talk to her rather than yell and call her names. I don’t remember reading the note or feeling any remorse for my actions back then. All I remember is feeling a hardness within myself and judgement as this person proceeded to go down a dark road of addiction.
Reading her note and recalling all that had transpired in our lives since then, I sat with the hard realization that I had utterly failed this family member who looked up to me and had reached out to me for support. I don’t blame myself for her addiction, but I do wonder if I had been kinder, more understanding, less judgemental, and less consumed with my own pain, whether she might have felt less alone in what she was going through, and if that might have made even a subtle difference in her life. It’s a painful thought. And one that got me thinking about others I have hurt in my life while stuck in unconscious patterns of self protection, avoidance, and denial.
She and I had not spoken in years, but she has become the first of several people whom I have written letters to this winter, acknowledging the pain and hurt I’ve caused them. In my woundedness, I said and did things that deeply hurt people I care about. While my actions weren’t intentional or even conscious, I was perhaps willfully blind to the impact they had for many years. It’s been devastating at times to feel in to how those actions or patterns of behavior must have felt on their end. I’ve found myself weeping in deep remorse for things I’ve done and opportunities lost for a closer relationship with them. It's been a humbling and sobering experience, but the grief process has brought a familiar and welcome cleansing.
Since writing these letters, I’ve noticed an interesting effect of feeling more here in owning who I've been. My denial or willfull blindness prevented me from truly knowing myself. Parts of me were hidden in shame. In my humility and remorse, I feel more real, more here, more present. I see a more crisp and defined image of myself in the mirror. I feel more integrated having gathered these wounded parts of myself up, having felt their pain, and in compassion am finding forgiveness for myself.
This has been my great reckoning.
I believe we are all experiencing some form of personal reckoning as well as a great collective/planetary reckoning. What do I mean by this? According to Merriam Webster, a reckoning is “a time when the consequences of a course of mistakes or misdeeds are felt.”
Many of us are experiencing the consequences or a “settling up” of our debts: interpersonally, societally, and with the earth. The ancient saying “As above, so below,” applies. The macrocosm of global reckoning (planetary turmoil) is reflecting the microcosm of personal reckoning happening within each one of us. We are all interconnected with the earth and so what the planet is going through, we feel, and what we are experiencing collectively, the planet feels, and reflects back to us.
I don’t know where we are heading, but I do know we can no longer continue in separation consciousness. We may all very well end up standing bare, with shattered hearts on parched earth. And perhaps that is what is necessary for humanity to change course and find its way back into right relationship with itself and our planet.
We can only exist separated and disconnected from our true selves, and each other for so long before our facades begin to crack and crumble. I know that my meticulously constructed personality/ego defense structure is crumbling, and I am welcoming it. I no longer desire to exist in a defensive, fearful, and reactionary way. I’m ready to live as my fully authentic self, to trust life and my unique soul’s path, to live in loving compassion with others, and in an honoring and reciprocal relationship with the earth.
There are two touchstones that I’ve come to rely on these intense times: grief and gratitude. Grief has a way of cleansing and emptying me of everything that is not me. It strips me bare and all that remains is Truth. Whenever things feel too hard or I feel squeezed too tight by life, I find the space to release until I’m emptied. I feel raw and vulnerable afterward, but there is such a beautiful transparency when we are in this state. In this state we are closest to our truest selves. The defense/ego structure collapses and all that is left is our inner light shining through tear-soaked eyes.
Gratitude goes hand in hand with grief. Without gratitude we can get lost in our pain. Gratitude balances grief and reminds us of all of the beauty that surrounds us, that life is worth living. Grief keeps us authentic and humble. Gratitude keeps our hearts soft and open.
Whatever form your reckoning may be taking, I wish you a wellspring of grief, gratitude, and loving compassion to help guide your way.