A few years ago, one of my best friends left me a ten page letter detailing just how horrible a person I was.
The problem was that some of what she said was true. Of course, all of it was true as far as she was concerned at the time, but the parts that hurt me the most were the parts I couldn't argue with, the image of myself shown to me through her angry/hurt/fed-up eyes.
I kept that letter and reread it from time to time, at first in order to remind myself why I could never trust her again, why I should be angry with her for all time. Sometimes I read it because I was trying to understand how the one person whom I thought understood me better than any other, could misunderstand me and lash out at me so badly.
Today, I reread it because I was packing up my stuff, and needed to decide what to keep and what to let go.
Today, it didn't hurt. I could see the truths among the misconceptions that had hurt me before. I could see why she thought I was lazy, inept, manipulative, and hypocritical. I could see how some of the behavioral patterns I had when we lived together, and before, have led me to the place I find myself now.
Some people would probably consider the situation I've created for myself to be “rock bottom.” I'm a single mother, out of unemployment benefits and student loans, with no childcare, no car, no place to live, no income, and everything I own either being kept at a generous friend's apartment or behind me in this very overloaded car as I type this. In the last few weeks, I came very close to losing everything that matters to me, even my son.
But this is not the lowest point of my life.
If I were to choose a “rock bottom” out of every trauma I've experienced in my life, well...I guess it would be back in September of this year when my fiancé of 2 years dumped me, and then told me I had two weeks to get myself and my son out. I hit rock bottom then, when my heart shattered along with my root chakra, my sense of security, and my implicit confidence in the goodness in the world.
For two days I was a wreck, completely out of control emotionally, unable to take care of myself and barely able to take care of my child.
That was rock bottom.
Every night I prayed for guidance, and on the third day a seemingly random thought struck me like the proverbial two-by-four upside the head.
I realized that I believed in my faith, but that I wasn't living it, and hadn't been living it for most of the duration of my failed relationship.
I heard the voice of my spirit guide then, saying, “Remember unconditional love.” And as my bewildered one year old snuggled up to me, wiping my tears with his little hands and planting big wet kisses on my lips, I remembered.
The love that I have for my son is limitless and free. He doesn't have to earn it, and he can never lose it. Nothing he can ever do could possibly diminish my love for him.
In my faith, the Divine IS unconditional love. There is no judgment, no punishment, just actions and consequences. Just as I would never harm or bully my son, or make him suffer because he made a mistake, neither would my Divine Mother and Father make me suffer for the mistakes of my past. Everything that I have ever suffered has been a consequence of my own choices, and my own lack of unconditional love for myself.
Since I remembered unconditional love, I have understood what I need to do in order to heal myself. I started by letting go of my self-hatred, and my lifelong feelings of helplessness and worthlessness. I saw myself through the eyes of the Mother, with unconditional, powerful, all-encompassing love, and I let that love fill me and mend the wounds in my heart. Every night before I go to sleep, every morning and frequently throughout the day, I fill myself with this love, embrace it, and pass it on to my son.
I don't know where I'm going to live tomorrow, but I have faith that my son and I will be fine. I can honestly say that I'm not stressed or worried about the future. In fact, I feel peaceful, content, and incredibly excited about my future.
Today, I was finally able to let go of a painful chunk of my past. It felt good to watch that letter fall down the rubbish chute.
