Breaking the Rusty Cage

VJ leaves MO tomorrow. I saw her for the last time (this visit) yesterday. It's always hard when she leaves. There are always tears and I can barely look at her the last 20 minutes or so we're together. I'm not sure why. Maybe because I see her eyes and I know they are saying the same thing that my heart is saying, "I love you. You are my sister. I will miss you terribly. I will feel as though a portion of my heart is half a country away." Guess that's what phone calls are for, eh?

We have big plans, she and I. We're going to go on a cruise when we're 80 (or, well, when I'm 80 and she's 78.) We'll wear big hats, red lipstick, and knitted bikinis 'cause we'll be so fabulous that we won't care. We'll dance and drink Mojitos and spank old men on the ass. It's gonna be great. I almost cannot wait.

Every time she comes to visit, she leaves me with amazing gifts. Many of them I can show you - many of them you can hold in your hand. But the best gifts are the ones that only I know about, the ones that you cannot see, cannot hold, cannot touch. They are gifts of the soul. I guess it would be fair to say that she gives me the ability and safety to give gifts to myself.

Like the gift of forgiveness.

Recently, my sister B wrote something in her blog about PostSecret. I commented on it and mentioned how good it feels to live a life of honesty, of truth, with no secrets. Over the course of the last couple of years, I have confessed many things. I have started and tried to live a life of honesty. But there was something that always held me back. Something that happened 13 years ago. Something I did that was morally reprehensible. Something that changed the course of my life. Something that led to self loathing, self doubt, a sense of unworthiness. I've been working on this. I've spent the last few weeks thinking about it, this deed, wanting to release it and let it go. I wrote about it in my journal - I wrote about it in honesty and truth and totality - something I had never ever done. I prayed to my higher power about it. I meditated about it. I devoted several yoga sessions to it - you know, it is possible to stretch and bend yourself into a new awareness. Finally, yesterday, I confessed it. I said it out loud. I said it out loud to someone who knows me deeply, my VJ. She knew me 13 years ago when it happened. She looked me deep in the eye. She held my hand. She said, "There is no judgement here." She listened. She waited. She listened some more. Her faith in me allowed me to speak and think clearly and openly. She was patient as I back tracked and started from the beginning a million times. Finally, when it was all said and done, I realized a few things.

1. I'm human. I will make mistakes. I'm supposed to make mistakes. I'm supposed to learn from my mistakes. It's okay.
2. I did the best I could with the tools I had at the time. What I did was done out of self preservation, not out of any intent to hurt someone else. Clearly it did hurt someone, but I never intended that to happen.
3. Many of the bad decisions I made in my life were based on this action - I have learned from them and don't have to repeat them.
4. I don't have to beat myself up about it for the rest of my life.
5. The person I really have to make amends to is myself.
6. I'm capable of doing that.
7. There is no time line.
8. I am free.

You cannot buy that kind of support. You cannot buy that kind of friendship. It is a gift and I'm so grateful that I have been gifted by VJ.

Safe travels, Sister of mine. Love that new kitty and hug and kiss The Bald One for me (I never did fix his hats,) and remember - you're infants as they are infants. You grow as they grow. You learn as they learn. It's more important to know the right questions than to know the right answers. You can always learn the right answers, but you have know the questions first.

And, finally, when it doubt, burn it.