Time heals. It took a year of letting the seeds of anger burn. After four months of working hard without clear indications, and I do agree without much results, I was laid-off by Lululemon. God. The disappointment I felt when I realized that the dream company I had envisioned might not have been so wonderful, or that my chances of getting to a role where I would shine were close to none, was soon followed by some torturous anger towards the people I believe did not help me be the best I could in my position. Every time I met with one of my ex-colleagues, I felt that burning seed of resentment inside, which I was trying to hide as best as I could with a light tone of voice and a bright smile.
Until one day, in yoga class, I met again with a lemon. I waited for that burning seed to show up, but it never came. After all that time of letting it burn without acting upon it, it was finally gone. It took me a year to feel good again about myself, to find my confidence back. Once it was done though, I felt again the excitement I felt back then at the thought of working for this wonderful company. It took me a year to believe again in its mission and its people. To only be with what once was.
Time heals. When my grandmother died, I was only six, but despite my young age, I was deeply moved by her death. The thought of her automatically made me cry, even five years after she had passed away. Late in bed at night, the tears were running down my cheeks, and I felt like it would never stop. Thinking about it was like scratching an open wound, and everytime it started bleeding again. Until one day the bleeding stopped. The open wound became a scar, and I was once again able to think about her without the heaviness of sorrow, able once again to taste only the sweetness of her memory.
Time heals. Even if I have been quite rude with others on some occasions, I do not remember having hated someone as much as I’ve hated myself at some point in my life. I still have trouble understanding what I had done to deserve such a violent judgment. I was presumed guilty before any trial was conducted. I just wasn’t good enough. Good enough for what? Quite a good question. I wasn’t wondering about that though, too confused back then to put things in perspective.
But time heals. With a lot of kindness and love from friends and family, and through a long process of self-rediscovery through yoga and meditation, I was able to turn on the light from the inside, instead of waiting desperately to be enlighten from something to be found outside. The shine comes now from within, and I am accepting and caring for myself once again.
Forgiveness was a huge part of the process, which was much longer than I sometimes wish. It took me about ten years to come to that point. Compared to the one year it took me to forgive others for an unpleasant experience, that’s quite a lot. But looking forward at the many more years of joy to come, I find it quite relative. Ten years to learn to forgive oneself are for sure ten years well invested, when you come to think about it. Isn’t it learning to accept and love ourselves one of the most important, yet most difficult duty, human beings are being assigned? But it is essential to building a world of compassion and lovingkindess, that I am sure of.