Forgiving

That moment when what you think about something important — a person you admire, a job, a friendship — changes, drastically and irrevocably.

When you look back at it, cushioned from the pain by years of distance, you realise that it wasn't, after all, a particular deed or word that made the difference; you see that you had been suppressing the knowledge that things weren't the way you wanted them to be, and what that word, that deed, did was throw a harsh light on what you'd been hiding from yourself.

It is acceptance of the loss of illusion.

And then, all those years later, you start forgiving that person, and, more importantly, yourself.

When you accept that it was your perhaps unrealistic expectations, needs, desires, that played a role, when you accept your own fault, then maybe you'll find that that schism isn't as unbridgeable as you thought it was.

It is comfort — small comfort — when you're struggling with more recent turmoil, to know that one day you can reach that point. It would be nice to be able to get there more quickly. Ideally without ageing. : ) But that would take more internal evolution than some of us can manage without the help of the years.