Elizabeth Kidd

The first time the concept of forgiveness was brought to me was in a women’s group that was being lead by my therapist.  She gave us all some literature on forgiveness.  I don’t remember all of it, but I do remember the line that forgiveness does not mean forgetting what happened.  I think when I read that I wished that forgiveness could mean forgetting because that is what made it feel so difficult to forgive–I remembered all of it in high-definition.

I decided to confront one of the people in my life who had done some terrible things.  I did it first in a letter and received an apology letter back. Next, I confronted him in person.  That was more revealing.  He told me to tell him what happened because he could not remember.  All these years, decades really, he couldn’t remember.  Meanwhile my life had revolved around hate–hating him, despising him, hating myself, hating everyone really.  You would never know so much hate was inside of me because I hid it deep within me and disguised it with a smile–a smile I would later describe as my rage smile.

After this confrontation I realized that the only person who had really been suffering for all of these years was me.  The Buddha says, “Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.”  Even better,–“Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.”

I really did feel as if holding on to this anger was somehow hurting him and hurting all the other people whom I had not forgiven.  How could I let them off the hook for what they had done?  How could I not keep reliving these moments?  Isn’t reliving these moments the only way to protect myself?  None of these was true.  None of these brought me any peace.

After I realized that the only person who had been suffering was me, I decided I would try this so-called forgiveness.  Just the mere fact that I wanted to forgive anyone forged the way for help to show up for me.  I prayed every day for help in doing this because I only knew how to hold on to the past.  I did not know how to let any of it go.

I would sit in meditations and feel the feelings about it.  I journaled, spoke to my mentor and my spiritual director extensively.  Slowly, like the drip of water can erode a mountainside, little pieces of anger would chip away. Under all the anger were the true feelings.  The anger was really just stopping me from feeling the deep well of sadness, betrayal and fear. Once I felt all my feelings, I began to do something that was harder than forgiving anyone else, and that was the work of forgiving myself.

Forgiveness, I found, is really releasing the energy around myself that was holding me hostage.  The things that people had done to me or I had done to myself were not forgotten through forgiveness nor did forgiving them validate it all and make it, “right” or “O.K.” What it did was take the shackles off and allow me to be present and dream a brighter future.  The truth is the judgment and anger were just part of the darkness.  The only way to heal any of it was to allow in more light, and that for me is what forgiveness did.  It unblocked the channel for more love, more light, more peace, more compassion, more joy, more abundance, and more of all the goodness in life.  I felt a freedom that can only be described as grace.

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Release Me

“An anger so deep that it went to the core of me and my being,

It cut into all the other parts of my life and my feelings would bleed out sideways,

You don’t remember what happened and I stand here with the memories for both of us–dumbfounded by the years of suffering,

The prison I built around my heart was only destroying me.

Slowly, like the drip of water erodes a mountain,

I chipped away at the anger, the sadness, the betrayal and the fear.

Small glimpses of a different life,

Lead me to the shore called forgiveness which lead me on the journey to freedom.”

 

 

This by far has been the hardest blog I have written so far. Several attempts in and lots of deleting, cutting, and pasting.  Nothing was fitting, and then I realized that I was trying to force it all together and tie a neat bow on top.  As if the process was finished and I could move on.  The truth is it isn’t over and it won’t be over.  All of this is a practice and this practice will continue.  The practice of discovering more, learning more, finding more, changing, deleting, cutting, pasting…just like writing this blog has been.  Even the title didn’t work for me anymore, so I changed that as well.  I do, however, want to complete this part of my Meditation blog series, so I will end with this:

The biggest take-away from meditation for me is that my spiritual practice is the core of who I am, and meditation is a huge part of my spiritual practice. Meditation has given me the space between the words. The space between my thoughts. The awareness to be proactive and choose a path of what I desire instead of reacting and being a victim of the circumstance.

Through all of my exploration, I have found that for now, silent meditations work best for me.  I add in guided meditations here and there because I enjoy those as well.  All along, I was seeking the answer to this question, “What is it that works for me?”  Not just doing what other people prescribed in a book, in their lives, or what works for them.  I respect all ways and know it is my journey to find what my truth is.  As the Buddha said so wisely, “Believe nothing, no matter where you read it or who has said it, not even if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense.”

More than eight years ago I began meditating. It all began with that simple, yet not so simple, five minutes. The funny thing is that the woman who began meditating is a person I don’t fully resonate with anymore.  I don’t resonate with her high anxiety and deep lows.  Nor do I resonate with her deep self-judgment, self-loathing, and busyness to avoid reality.  What I do resonate with is her strength, her courage, her gratitude, and her determination.  I am so grateful she made that decision to change.  I am so grateful she had the courage to sit through the terror of the stillness and the silence and listen for the truth under her muddy thoughts. She began the journey of change that her soul was craving and I will always be grateful for her.

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This piece is not so much about the whole time period as it is more of an embodiment of what I learned through meditating and the essence of what I feel and know and find in the silence.  I dedicate this to the 37-year-old version of myself who took the first dive into the mysterious world of silence.

The Tree I Am

“Rooted in the ground,

Surrounded by the light,

A warmth exploding from my chest.

A knowingness,

A calmness,

Small ripples in a pond from leaves falling gently to the surface.

“All is well,” the universe sings,

My only job is to let go and surrender to this truth;

And so I do.

I am reminded once again of how connected and taken care of I really am,

I smile with gratitude and whisper, ‘Amen.'”

Five minutes.  Five lousy minutes turned into five gloriously, accomplished minutes. This turned into 10 minutes, then 20 minutes and eventually 30 minutes.  That was years of practice.  Four years to be exact.  Years of sitting with that same kitchen timer, determined that I could be in my own skin.  That I could sit still just as well as I could multi-task.

I gave back all those meditation books and resold the one I got from Half-Price Books (probably got twenty-five cents for it).  I decided to follow my own path of figuring out what this mysterious “meditation” was – to find what worked for me and what did not work for me.  I decided if something didn’t work then I would move on to find something that did.

During this time of exploration, I continued with my morning meditations.  At first I would cram in whatever time I could before I ran out the door to work.  This would vary my time from five minutes to 20 minutes, depending on how much I had left over for this.  I eventually made it the first thing I did.  I set the timer for 30 minutes and still managed to get everything done.  In fact in a more orderly, calm fashion than before.  Imagine that – slowing down somehow seemed to increase time itself.

Soon after my first attempt to meditate for “five minutes” (which actually was just 30 seconds), I started going to the Ruah Center for a day of silence and eventually overnights of silence.  I remember driving up the long driveway and thinking, “Oh my God.  How has this beautiful place been here all this time in Houston?”  I was also terrified about the prospect of so much silence.  No phone, no computer, no talking…not even while eating.  I met with my spiritual director, Sister Adeline, and felt a sense of home right away.

She listened to me in a way that few people are capable of listening.  She listened to all my horror stories and never flinched.  She guided me to work in the art room, to go for walks, to go swimming, to sit and meditate, and to read parts of the Bible.  Even though  I was no longer Catholic/Christian and considered myself an eclectic of all the shared truths in religions and mainly a spiritual person. I read what she guided me to and found truths in there.

During that first silent retreat, I cried through everything I did.  I cried walking up the stairs, working on an art project, walking on the beautiful trails, even while eating and taking a bath.  I didn’t think it was humanly possible to cry this much.  I used to hold back my tears. Thinking that if I ever let one loose, I would never stop, and somehow be the first person to die from crying.

The silence.  The pure silence is where I began a deeper spiritual practice. I read somewhere that praying is talking to God and meditating is listening to God.  I wanted that.  I wanted to hear what my mind had been too cluttered to hear. I wanted that and knew this would be what saved me from me.

Along with the silent retreats I went to the Chung Tai Zen Center in Alief and took their beginner meditation class, then the intermediate, and eventually part of the advanced.  I loved the silence the Buddhist monks created in this run down; not so beautiful part of Alief.  I loved going there and learning a new way to be in the silence.  Sitting meditations and then a walking meditation.  The bonus for me was hearing the monks share their dharma of Tibetan Buddhism, and the other bonus was the delicious vegetarian meal they shared with us afterward.

I started attending places of worship that included meditations in their services.  I also went to various workshops that included meditations  and studied various people of spirituality:  John Bradshaw, Dr. Joe Dispenza, Mary Mannin Morrisey, Eckhart Tolle, Don Miguel Ruiz, Byron Katie, Marianne Williamson, and Michael Beckwith (to name a few).  I devoured books on the metaphysical and learned about how malleable the mind is.

I knew it was up to me to change every thought in my head and every belief that did not bring me joy.  As one of my heroes, Mahatma Gandhi said:  “Be the change you wish to see in the world.”  How could I be an instrument of peace when my thoughts were destructive?  How could I be an example of love when there was war inside of me?  How could I be compassionate when I saved the harshest judgments for myself?

The silence.  The quiet.  These moments with source were going to change my life in ways I could not ever believe possible.  I would become that change I had been seeking.

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This next piece describes this part of my journey – the exploration phase. My next blog will be part 3 of this meditation series – Meditation is My Medication.

Can You Quiet Your Soul Before You Soothe It?

“Racing thoughts of what I need to do next,

How sitting here is a pure waste of time,

I could have done anything, but just sit here.

Once those thoughts quieted down,

The truth would creep up and the silence would woo me into a peace I never knew,

There would grow bigger spaces between each thought,

As if the silence itself was lulling me into the peace of my true self.

Small messages would come through,

I had time to see what was really running through my head;

Time to assess how I was feeling and  soothe that part of me that needed the most kindness.

Silence.  Nothing to do but sit here.

How beautiful is that,

How blessed I am to sit here and feel the love – around me, within me – that simply is me.”

 

 

In 2006 I made a huge decision that changed the course of my life. Everything I knew was turned upside down as though the perfect drawing was on an Etch A Sketch, and then it was shaken and handed back to me with the question, “Now what?”  Every day I felt raw, like a freshly peeled potato with all the moistness under the skin revealed.  Most moments of these days I literally felt like flinging my skin off.

A friend of mine gave me a stack of books on meditation and said, “I think it would help you if you learned to meditate.”  I smiled politely,  took the books home with me and set them on the living room floor. I thought: “Seriously?  If learning to meditate means reading those books, then it is never going to happen!”  Not only were these books thick, the language was dense and I felt as if the only way to read them was with a dictionary next to me.  Yep.  Not going to happen.

I was in Half-Price Books a week later and saw a book that seemed more realistic, Meditation for Wimps.  I paid my $5 and some change and took it home.  I tried one or two of the poses it said I needed to do to accomplish this supposed relaxation and state of Nirvana.  Yep, that book also ended up in the stack on the floor with the other books.

Two years later, I had a mentor who said, “Beth, you have to learn to sit still.”  She assigned me homework of sitting for five minutes every day in silence with my eyes closed.  I thought:”Of course, I can do that.  Five minutes?  Give me something harder to do.”

I sat in a chair in the area of my apartment that I designated as the meditation area.  I set my kitchen timer for 5 minutes and closed my eyes.  The conversation in my mind went something like this:  “Oh my God, pure torture.  When will this end?  I know the problem.  This damn thing is broken.  I only think I set it for five minutes, but really I set it for 30 minutes.  What if I never really pushed the start button, and this timer has really been going for 45 minutes?”  So I cheated.  I peeked open one eye and looked at that timer.  A whopping 30 SECONDS had passed.  If that wasn’t a sign that I was in trouble, then I didn’t know what was.  I could not even sit still with my eyes closed for 30 seconds.

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My next blog will be Meditation – The Exploration Phase (Part 2 of 3).  The piece I leave you with is what those days felt like to me:

Clawing My Skin Off

“Each day I busy myself with one more thing to do,

One more project to finish, one more call to make, one more hour to stay at work, one more way to help someone else in her life,

If I sit still, my thoughts will surely catch up to me and then the true havoc will begin,

I will hear the “not good enough”, the “not smart enough”, the “not going fast enough”,

The “not enough” that runs her daily marathons,

With anxiety humming through my veins and depression waiting at the door to take her turn,

There is no chance that I will let any of that catch up to me.

I just have to learn to move faster…or do I?”

 

All of life for me has boiled down to this – can you accept what is happening now?  Can you fully be in THIS present reality?  Of course, this is always easier when I am in full joy, bliss, and excitement.  Those yeses are easy and are there in the flow and pure gratitude that flow from every cell of my being.  The true challenge is can I do this when reality is less than what I desire? When reality feels like it has bitch slapped me and I am wondering what are the opportunities that are here in front of me?

“Embrace the Suck” is an expression a friend of mine told me that her Marine nephew told her about.  He said part of their training is being in a room where toxic gases are being put in through the ventilation system. If one of the marines leaves then they all have to start over.  She asked him how they do it and he said, “You know it will be hard so you embrace the suck.”

This to me embodies accepting those hard moments and knowing just like the joyous moments, they are temporary.  I used the expression, “embrace the suck,” quite regularly on the adventurecation.  The piece I wrote describes my shift at the helm during the fifteen foot waves and twenty plus winds.

A week or two prior to this I had just learned how to steer the boat. Needless to say, being a newbie at the helm brought up its own fears, both from my lack of confidence in my abilities and knowing eight other loved ones were on board. So here is that piece which I dedicate to the Marines for the title and I also dedicate it to all those who were aboard, the sailboat, The Kidd, with me:

Embrace the Suck

“Salt water slaps knocking me down,

The only thing holding me up is the only thing keeping the course – the wheel,

Lives depending on me,

My own tears mixed in with the waves slamming into me.

The wind howls,

Shivering with fear and coldness,

Teeth chattering,

Knowing I have to keep the course.

Too far to the starboard side and a hard crash with the land,

Too far to port side and we may get lost at sea,

My shoulders burn with each turn of the wheel,

I want this shift to end.

I want to just let go of the wheel and let go of of all my responsibilities.

Faith is the only thing holding me up,

I call on the Master Sailors,

I sense a figure to my right and see a strong shadow of a male spirit,

I know source has heard and sent a helper.

I am grateful and terrified,

It feels as if this moment has been suspended and will become its own unending lifetime,

The boat is tossed from side to side,

There are moments when we are actually airborne,

It isn’t until we slam back into the ocean that this even seems real.

A prayer boat we have become,

Angels on every side,

Scrapes, bruises, and cuts,

It’s a wonder that no one died or simply fell overboard.

There was a moment I just wanted it to end and it felt as if jumping over would be more simple,

This was a fleeting thought,

Responsibility and faith kept me there.

Hard to believe in twenty-four hours we were even in the same ocean.

The fifteen foot waves that slammed straight into us and created chaos,

Now rolled behind us and pushed us gently forward to our final destination – my homeland of Jamaica.”

 

I had a vision of a phoenix rising over a year ago at a Dr. Joe Dispenza workshop in Austin. At this time I had no idea how this would inspire me or where it would lead me.

I chose to quit my job at the end of the school year in 2015 with no other job lined up. That part was somewhat easy because I had done it two years prior. The part that was new was stepping into owning being on a sabbatical.

I had no idea why I was being lead to do this I just knew my soul needed it. As I have just completed a full year of being on a sabbatical that phoenix has lead me many times through the dark night of the soul. This time has been a precious time in my life where I allowed life to catch up with me. To really be in all that I have done, to shed old beliefs on a cellular level, and step into bigger better versions of me day after day. So I say thank you dear phoenix for leading the way.

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Phoenix Rising

The strength and courage it has taken me has impressed even me,
Just when I thought I had cried the last tear, three more would appear and slide down my cheek,
Rest endlessly on my chin and drip down to my chest,
Open heart I whispered to myself;
Grateful, thankful, determined;
Just as the phoenix rises,
So do I,
So do I.
Stronger, wiser, more confident, and loving;
Simply soaring to higher heights of heaven,
Loving the entire adventure,
despite the visible rapids below.

I had a best friend for 14 solid years.  We had actually known each other since we were 10 and so had been in and out of each other’s lives for 28 years.  We were really more (as my former mentor would say) wound mates.  We spent hours discussing how the world had wronged us and how they were all assholes and we were just doing what was best for them if they would just see it our way.  We shared common hurts, pain, and childhood wounds.  We also discussed these regularly, but only discussing the problems over and over and over.  It had become quite the sick cycle of emneshed codependence.  It was the only world I knew how to show up in and at the time really the only one I knew existed.

One of the last friendly phone calls we had with each other I told her that I was tired.  I was tired of feeling crappy, tired of the bouts of deep depression and on going anxiety.  Tired of all the weight I felt from my life.  I decided in that moment that I was going to open every closet and let out all the skeletons and unleash all the secrets from the trunks I had stored them in.  I was going to let the light shine on all of it and truly let it all go.  She told me that was not a good idea and that I needed to put bigger chains around the trunks and get a bigger lock for the closet.  This was the beginning of the end of that friendship.  My soul had an agenda and I intended to follow it.

Two years later I wrote a poem about the experience of this friendship. The words soothed that tender part of me that needed to let her go even more. The part that also knew that by following my heart I had unlocked the depths of who I really am.

Here is that piece called Weight or Weightlessness:

“Our friendship used to feel like an anchor on my ankle,

Keeping me secured to the ground,

Keeping me safe,

It used to be secured with a nice neat rope with a sailor’s knot.

Time wore on and the rope became a chain,

Being secured to the ground was stifling,

Suffocating at best; it was choking me.

I tried to loosen the chain,

You tied it tighter and wound another one around.

You told me it was best for me to stay put,

To stay secured to the ground.

I wanted to fly,

You told me I couldn’t,

I wanted to fly,

You said I shouldn’t,

I wanted to fly,

You reminded me of all my fears.

I stopped fighting the chain,

I simply let go,

The chain disappeared.

I reached inside and found my wings,

I found the nearest cliff,

Jumped off and soared.

All our long conversations turned to short sharp words,

With jagged edges,

The words became silence,

The silence became a known good-bye.

I don’t miss the anchor,

I miss the laughter,

I miss knowing I had a best friend,

I miss the memories.

I chose my wings,

I chose to fly,

I chose to dream a bigger life.

If I had to do it all again,

I would choose my wings every time.”

 

Years ago I had one of those moments where a poem came through me. I was simply holding the pen and paper. This poem had me look at the story I was currently telling myself about my partner.  I wanted her to be this person that she was consistently not being.  She was showing me reality through her words and her actions.  I kept telling myself oh she didn’t mean that or what she really meant was___________.  (Fill in something much nicer.)  I later came to terms with this calling it my potential versus reality.

I think it is great to hold a higher potential of other people, but at the same time it is really important to see what is actually in front of me.  This poem helped me re-frame the story I was telling myself and eventually was part of what I kept reading to keep myself in the truth of what was happening right in front of me.  It helped me own responsibility for my part and take right action for me. I was reminded again that the only power I had was to change me – my thoughts, my words, and my actions.

Here is that poem –

Flames of Desire

The fire was glowing, red and spitting

It sent off heat that melted the wax off the candles in the other room

Still she watched and reached closer

The fire spit higher as if to warn of the impending pain

She still wondered and watched and moved a little closer

The fire did as it had warned and sent out an explosion of fury

At first she was surprised, stunned; even hurt by what seemed unexpected

The fire continued to roar as only a fire knows how to do

She stepped back, turned away, and realized her desire to burn was gone and she had a beautiful life to live.

As with anything I begin, it all starts with a whisper, a thought, divine inspiration or an ongoing nagging from the universe!  Blogging is not something I ever considered doing.  (I am even having my doubts as I type this.)  In the last year it has come to me five times….since I made a deal with the universe that I would follow through with pretty much anything I am told more than once; then it is time for me fulfill my part of this bargain.

I am not sure where this will lead me….to my next career, to a new hobby of sorts, or merely another route to understanding my world better and to understanding myself better.  That part is not as important as me diving in head first and saying yes!  Yes, to the inner voice that leads me.  Yes, to divine inspiration.  Yes, to a new adventure.

Afterall, the picture above was my first time ever steering a sailboat and my first big sail also.  It lead me on an Adventurecation (adventure and vacation – adventure at sea and vacation on land) with eight other people.  At one point I was steering in 15 foot waves and 20 plus winds.  I prayed for help and a spirit appeared beside me (believe it or not) wearing a sailor’s hat.  I keep this same picture above my desk even as I type right now reminding me that I am guided, protected, loved, and simply put – never alone.

So here’s to trying something new and allowing it to unfold as it is meant to!