I watched Ghandi last night. His comment about our work really being about the violence not with each other, but in our own hearts hit close to home.
How often have I found another wrong, blamed another, or said things with bite that I wished I could take back? What is the violence in my heart that does such a number on me that I find my fellow human beings lesser than so I can feel better?
How do I distinguish between my human-ness and my behavior, beginning first with my own – loving my human being, and at the same time compassionately looking to change my behavior?
So much has been written on change - how long it takes, how long it takes for the system to assimilate, what has to be let go of, and the pain often associated with it. Change can mean pain - a certain death to how it's been done before. And a deep fear of what the unknown will require us to do or become.
So perhaps real change boils down to a death of a certain part of ourselves for the sake of something else. I believe for change to be sustainable, I have to be willing to deal with that death -- that part of me that no longer serves and could respond differently.
I write this because this is hard for me. I fail at it constantly, but strive to do it anyway. If I don’t do it for myself, how can I possibly expect I will do so with others?
To create that kind of relationship with myself, I grieve that part of me that has not grown up. I choose to be most kind with it, and patient with it. I also acknowledge that violence occurs in my heart and when it does, I notice it, and name what I am feeling. Ultimately, I strive for giving myself time to breathe, and forgiving myself my human-ness.