Sunday musing
I would like to thank Royal for the catalyst for this musing.
I have been told by people I trust often that I have a good soul, that I’m a kind person, that I’m wise. I’ve rarely believed a single instance of it. Any time someone pays my character a compliment I immediately begin to question it, to question how well they know me, if I have been simply putting on a front or act. This is because I still am working on becoming comfortable with my capacity for harm, my ability to hurt. My road has had many potholes. My brain does not focus on the people I’ve helped, the times I’ve held a friend on their feet, the moments I’ve stood as a rock for people I know deeply, or have just met. Instead it just shows me a clipshow of every time I’ve fallen short, every malicious thought that’s crossed my mind. Each time I’ve chosen the wrong path either willingly or accidentally and caused harm. The trust I’ve betrayed, the love I’ve taken advantage of. Each compliment is overshadowed by my immediate internal arguments countering their kindness.
The reason I am striving to become careful with my words and actions is I am beginning to understand my capacity to inflict harm. I am facing it. I worked with a medic years ago who had two tattoos on their arms, one said “Do no harm” the other “Do know harm”, I think there is a simple wisdom in this, an understanding that to help, you first have to come to grips with your own ability to inflict. Fully wade into your choices and understand what motivated them, what drove your decisions before you can see how much gratification pallors in comparison to sacrifice.
We carry our scars openly for the world to see while refusing to let our gaze rest on them. Our souls bleed without bandage or attention hoping that time will clot off the pain without us having to let the knife fall from our hand. If I am one of those rumored “good people”, if I do trust those I love, it is due to time spent understanding that the lessons I have learned from my shortcomings do nothing for me on their own, the pain is wasted if I do not learn from them. My father used to say sorry doesn’t fix anything, I agree now that I understand this more deeply. It does not, it cannot mend the broken, it cannot heal the cut. You can only take these lessons for what they are, what they can teach you about yourself and your greed and move forward. I am very quick to forgive others, and have never forgiven myself. This is something I am working on. Something I may never achieve. The few times these words have come beyond my auditory cortex are the times they are spoken from the people who have seen the full range of me. Those I’ve shared my stories with, those who have been brave enough to share theirs with me. I want to end this with a simple thank you to those people, who tell me I am worthwhile, who love me, the ones telling me that I make the world better, thank you for being my lifeline, you matter more than I can ever express. Any good I can have or will do is a love letter to you, it is me overcoming my inability to express in language my sorrow, my remorse, my need to protect. I love you.
Love,
Fitz
“That as just as it is the silent pause that gives sweetness to the chant, so it is suffering and so it is evil which makes possible the recognition of virtue” -Thomas Aquinas (according to Alan Watts but can’t verify the quote so, eh?)
Ps: Y’all thought I was done with heavy stuff? I’m not even sure if I’m going to hit publish on this but this postscript is in case I do, to assure you that I’m doing well and growing and learning, and I’m finding happiness. Do not worry about me, I’m on the right path.
