Creative Mindfulness 2: A Poem “I Forgive You”
Hello and welcome. This is Janice Hoffmann, November 23rd, 2021 for the Claremont Courier and thanks for taking a four-minute break from your busy day to listen to the next installment of “Creative Mindfulness”.
Mindfulness is looking at the present, the current moment, from multiple viewpoints, without judgement, without rancor. Creative means that I may use broad brush strokes to paint pictures, realistic or abstract.
Today’s contribution is about the stress of the holidays, when expectations abound, whether ones we set for ourselves, or ones that society or other individuals set for us. I’m trying to pay attention to my list of foibles. As you listen to what I’m forgiving myself for, feel free to identify with what fits and change the others to match what you want to get out of life. With homage to the original “I Forgive You” by Dilruba Ahmed, here is how I personalized mine.
I Forgive You
For not wiping the counters last night,
I forgive you.
I forgive you for letting the pot boil over, and not noticing
Roomba is off his charger.
When preparing healthy meals
becomes tedious instead of a pleasure,
scraps of this and that,
ubiquitous dirty dishes,
I forgive you for eating a pretzel bar,
and then succumbing to
hapless entertainment after a day of wearying chores, not remembering your good fortunes
others only dream of.
I forgive you for choosing the privileged response over gratitude, for wanting more, or
for wanting less,
for being the first to smell the garbage
and the last to smell the flowers, I forgive you.
I forgive that you are rusty at rejoicing.
When you misplace your phone
enroute your daily micro journeys, personal space to communal living, multiple loops, life’s cycles, repeat.
I forgive that you panic before you reason. I forgive that you momentarily
look over your shoulder
to see if mental fragility is gaining on you. I forgive you for wanting to please,
for responding with a thoughtless “Yes!” rather than forming a thoughtful
“No, thank you”,
I forgive you.
For wanting to tell people
how to live,
for allowing “you should” to
enter your mind and leave your mouth, I forgive you.
For not always being present,
for forgetting to focus with care and concern,
for starting another paragraph before responding to yours, for asking personal questions that are none of my business
I forgive you.
Forgiveness is taking a breath, relaxing the eye sockets, unhinging the jaw,
opening the throat
rotating the shoulder blades, encouraging the scapulae to kiss, lifting the torso,
making room for the heart expanding the spine,
wrapping skin around belly and thighs without rebuke, reconnecting with Mother Earth and just beginning again.
For caring more about doing than being, For allowing life’s imperfections
detract from life’s precious moments
never to be repeated, I forgive you.
Thanks for reading. If you missed an episode of Creative Mindfulness, you can check them out on the COURIER Podcast site here. Have a good holiday and when you catch yourself stressing, pause for a moment to be curious, to look at the current moment from another perspective, without judgement and without rancor. Stay safe and see you next Tuesday,