𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒫𝒾𝓃𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓃𝑒
𝒪𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀 𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝒶𝓌𝓃,
𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁, 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓂.
𝐼𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒹𝑒𝓌𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉,
𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉.
𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃 𝓈𝓊𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓃,
𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓉, 𝓈𝓀𝒾𝓂𝓂𝑒𝒹 𝒸𝓁𝒶𝓎.
𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒, 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓏𝑒,
𝒶 𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓎 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓎.
𝐼𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝑒𝓉 𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓈𝑒,
𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝒶𝓌𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝑒:
𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈, 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉𝓈 –
𝓌𝑒’𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓉.
𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝒻𝒶𝒷𝓇𝒾𝒸 𝒶𝓈 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓀𝒾𝓃,
𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓇𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝑜𝓃𝑒.
𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝒹𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 –
𝓂𝓎 𝓀𝒾𝓃’𝓈 𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓃𝑒.
𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝓉, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒:
𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒.
𝒟𝑜 𝐼 𝒷𝓊𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝑜𝓇 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂?
𝒟𝑜 𝐼 𝓇𝑒𝑔𝓇𝑒𝓉 𝑜𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓁?
𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓉𝒽𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝓅𝑒𝓃,
𝓃𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓅 𝓈𝑒𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓃𝑒.
𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝓍𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓅 –
𝓂𝓎 𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝑜𝓌𝓃.
𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓁𝒻 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁,
𝑜𝓇 𝒻𝒾𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝓂,
𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝐼 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝒹𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒹𝑒 –
𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝓀𝒾𝓃.
___________
The most profound gift I received in the process of aligning with my kin and understanding their personal stories more deeply was realizing this:
𝓐𝓼 𝓪𝓭𝓾𝓵𝓽𝓼,
𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰
𝓸𝓾𝓻
𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓻
𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭
𝓲𝓼
𝓸𝓷𝓮
𝓸𝓯
𝓽𝓱𝓮
𝓶𝓸𝓼𝓽
𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓽
𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓼
𝔀𝓮
𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮.
Holding a grudge – or being
unwilling to forgive – is like choosing to suffer while waiting for someone
else to understand, apologize, and make things right. But in doing so, we leave
our inner child waiting – unheld, unheard, and unseen. Just like those who hurt
us may also still be waiting for someone to notice their wounds and hold space
for their pain.
The change begins with the one
who steps out of the pattern and chooses something new –
someone who refuses to follow the rules set by those who didn’t know how to be
there for us.
Change happens when someone in
the lineage, here and now, is willing to take on the role of the parent instead
of staying stuck in the role of the wounded child. Someone who is willing to
listen, to care, to truly see. Someone who can look into the past and recognize
the child in their parents, in their grandparents – and choose to meet that
child with compassion, with understanding, with love.
Where love is sown, love grows.
Where gentleness and understanding take root, more of both will bloom.
It is a beautiful place to begin.
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