In the cosy, half awake period between the alarm and getting up, my mind drifted along. As often, two unconnected thoughts bumped into each other.
The first was the news headline about people who are both Conservative Party members and LGBTQ+. Apparently some are feeling distinctly uneasy given recent statements by the current would-bes. I do wonder if they’d been asleep over the past decade as rhetoric had ramped up. 😋 (Then there’s this masterclass in allyship ❤️)
As that thought floated by, an image of former and frequently cruel classmate followed. Someone who certainly wasn’t kind to a number of people in our class. They are both long dead and not someone I think about. I heard the words “can you forgive me?” echo in my mind, and that’s the crux of today’s post.
Memories, trauma, grudges, and all the rest; well, it’s a complicated situation and dealing with the past is not always easy. That said, I wondered – and life, IMHO, is very much a sliding scale of X and Y – when do you forgive? Is there more to be found in the phrase, forgive, but don’t forget? Where might we, in terms of kindness to ourselves for past failings, fit into that?