By Shelly Aspenson
She looks out from her porch across the quiet water and lifts her face to the silent world being created by herself, for herself. She is afraid. Who wouldn’t be? At the same time, she is filled with uncontainable joy, but why should it be contained?
Like most things in life, there is a balance that must be maintained for things to grow ever forward, to deter stagnation of a soul that comes with too much; too much sameness, too much resentment and too much blame. Blame is the most damaging of these, as it can be directed inward to the self or outward to another, both being a total waste of life and time.
She smiles for a moment at the joy, then eyes fill with tears as she begins her confession. It’s a hard, but necessary thing to do. If she holds onto her pride, confesses nothing, everything is pointless. She has to say her part in it all, claim her mistakes and wrong-thinking. There are penalties and she has paid most of them already, by living with them every day.
Now it’s time to confess, and forgive and move on.
It starts as a whisper, giving names to dreams put on the shoulders of another that were hers alone to pursue. Her voice trembles just a little, speaking every wish she had for them, now seeming to be nothing but a silly fairytale remembered from bedtime stories. Her heart quivers and cracks, opening up, admitting freely that what she had asked of him was beyond his capability to give, was beyond even his desire to give.
They are both the result of hearts unevenly yoked, each causing the other to falter.
He is a realist. She is a seeker. He believes in what is right now. She believes in what could be. He is right and so is she, confessing a lack of power to blend them into a thriving life, knowing he has no desire to blend at all. She wants love. He wants respect.
Neither of them got what they wanted.
That is her greatest confession, her greatest sorrow. They matched themselves together, and both starved to death from the inside out. He left more, did more and worked more. She turned into herself, pounding out her frustration and loss on the keyboard. What he did hurt her heart. What she did hurt his pride.
Both unforgivable offenses.
Here she stands, confessing to the world her greatest failure, the failure to successfully love and respect the one she chose to build a life with. What his part is in this is of no concern to her now. That will be for him to see or not, to confess or not. Her confession is what matters, or she will never go any farther than where she stands.
Remaining the same is unacceptable to her. There are dreams to be had, a life to live.
So, she stepped away from her keyboard and into an unwritten future. She walked away from apparent safety and toward the uncertainty that comes from wearing courage, cleverly disguised as foolishness and rash thinking.
No one understands how brave she is in the face of fear. No one knows how her blood runs cold, considering she might be wrong, and may have nothing to offer this world. It crosses no one’s mind that she wants her legacy to be one of living without apology, loving without restraint and laughing over mistakes that are only tools for learning. None of this is clear to anyone but her, as she confesses, it scares her that she might be wrong.
But what if she’s right?
For more self-study, The Urban Howl recommends The Mastery of Love: A Practical Guide to the Art of Relationship: A Toltec Wisdom Book.