Forgiveness

If I could change two things about myself (and somehow, these two things are closely related), I would want to be more forgiving of myself, and to be more forgiving of others.

Those of you who know me, who spend a lot of time with me, know that I am constantly apologizing about mistakes that I make, or mistakes that I perceive I make. And often, I apologize more than once about the same thing. It's like I feel guilty about something, something I can't quite figure out, and so am spending my whole life apologizing about every little thing I do. But no matter how much I apologize, I still feel guilty. A part of my heart, maybe my soul, always carries a tinge of guilt. Have you heard the term "apologizing for existing"? Often this term is used to describe people who apologize for everything, almost up to apologizing for breathing. Sometimes I think this is me. In any case, I wish that I would quickly figure out what I need to forgive myself for, and do it already, so I can stop apologizing all the time.

I also want to work on forgiving other people. It seems that the closer a connection I have with the person, the harder it is to forgive them. Maybe because the closer they are to me, the more vulnerable I allow myself to be around them. Any perceived offenses, then, are emotionally deeper than anything that could occur with an acquaintance or a stranger.

I recently went to a lecture on forgiveness. The speaker was Dr. Fred Luskin, a Stanford professor and well-spoken, brilliant man (also author of Forgive for Good, among other books). One thing in particular that he said that stood out to me was, "Jesus was less ruffled by being crucified than we are having to wait 5 minutes in the grocery store." What a shocking, but true, analysis. Even in the last hours of Jesus' life, he said, "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34). In comparison, how often do we get bent out of shape if someone takes a little bit longer getting exact change for the checker at Safeway, or cuts us off in traffic? These minor slights, not even personal attacks against us, can often leave us fuming.

A friend recently reminded me of Jesus' words to Peter, to forgive his brother not just 7 times, but 70x7 (Matthew 18:22). My friend hypothesized that maybe it was because someone may offend us once, but we play it over and over in our minds, reliving the offense 70 times, essentially eternity. And what does that do for us? Sometimes I think it is because we are searching for something; a reason behind the offense, some explanation we must have missed. Or maybe we become filled with such righteous indignation and it makes us feel better about ourselves to replay the event, affirming our position as the "wronged" or the "victim." I am not sure, but I do feel that each time I replay an offense, I suffer just like when it first happened.

Dr. Luskin had a different take on 70x7. He said that the act of forgiving someone benefited us; that Jesus asked Peter to forgive his brother 70x7 times because that would be good not only for the offending person but also for Peter, for his character and his soul. The repetitive forgiving would give Peter ample practice, and each time he forgave someone, he would get better at it and it would come more easily the next time. Practice makes perfect, right?

Jesus told his disciples, "If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also" (Matthew 5:39). During a discussion at Luskin's lecture, one of my table mates shared something he had read. It wasn't that Jesus was advising his disciples to let people walk all over them and abuse them, but he was telling them that if someone wanted to hit them a 2nd time, make them think about what they are doing. So many times when people become angry, they lash out verbally or physically, often without even thinking about it. If someone hits you suddenly, and you turn your other cheek towards them, they now have to think about it before hitting you again. What was at first a spontaneous, maybe uncontrolled action, now must become something thought-out. This is especially true if we consider that the left hand was usually used to strike (on the "right cheek") and for a second strike, the offender would have to use their non-dominant hand, making it a little more difficult for them and requiring them to be more conscious about it, and also taking more time to figure out how to strike with their right hand. This argues that Jesus was not advising his disciples to allow others to take advantage of them, but to make it more difficult for the offender to strike again, and maybe eliminating that second action.

As Luskin was preparing a research project at Stanford on Forgiveness, the way to get participants was to make it all about their health. How forgiving people will increase their longevity, lessen their stress levels, improve their complexion, help them lose weight... He thought it was so interesting that people were more concerned about their body than their soul. Maybe, even if we feel we are healthy and don't suffer from any health conditions, maybe we could still improve our capacity to forgive as a way to benefit our soul. Also, Luskin made a point that at times we get so caught up in being right, that being right is more important to us than grieving. For example, if we feel we have lost something (a friendship, a marriage, a possession, an investment, our image), we focus on the fact that we are right and they are wrong, instead of just working through the grief of our loss. If we allowed ourselves to grieve and heal, we wouldn't worry so much about who was right or wrong.

Another person at the lecture brought up the point that we have all done things we wish we hadn't. And we get angry sometimes at other people. But Jesus was clear about what to do: Love God, and love each other. No matter what other people do, we are still to love them. Spiritual writer Anne Lamott talks about the table of eternity in Heaven, and wonders who she will have to sit next to. With horror, she ponders, maybe George W.? She recognizes that he will be at the table as well. What if we had to sit between the 2 people we had the hardest time with? While some people immediately think, "That wouldn't be Heaven, then," I sort of get the idea that that's exactly where God would place us. Wouldn't He want us to evolve past our grudges and hurts, and forgive and love each person as another co-creation of God? God wants us to be the best, and that probably includes forgiving those around us before we can sit at the table. The idea makes me uncomfortable... It seems so much easier to just avoid the problems altogether. As Lamott says in one of her books, "Why couldn't Jesus command us to obsess over everything, to try to control and manipulate people, to stomp away to brood when people annoy us, and then eat a big bag of Hershey's Kisses in bed?" But the idea that God creates the seating chart does make me head more in the direction of forgiveness than righteous indignation.

One final thought. Can we forgive someone who doesn't acknowledge that they have offended us or hurt us in some way? What if they have passed on, or are no longer in our lives? Luskin said we can indeed forgive them, as the act of forgiveness doesn't lie with them, but within us. What do they have to do with what happens in our mind? We can choose to forgive at any moment, and in some ways, it has nothing to do with the other person. It is our experience, the unforgiveness or forgiveness in our hearts.

Specific Prayers

I don’t know if I believe in specific prayers: Asking God for something specific, something that I feel I need or desire, and thinking that it will be, likewise, answered very specifically. Well, I believe in it somewhat as I tend to pray in this manner every so often. But sometimes I don’t know if God answers specific prayers, or if He instead responds to “the earnest of the spirit” (2 Cor. 1:22) and gives us what we really need instead of what we think we need.  

I have had many instances in my life where it appears that God has answered a specific prayer. Now, I know that God answers all prayers, but the prayers I am talking about now are the ones that He answers in the way I want them to be answered: either a “Yes,” or an “Of course!” or some bit of information that I need at that moment. And I can think of 2 examples off the top of my head where I felt that God answered my prayers pretty specifically.  

 

The first example is from when I was 17 years old. I was struggling with a major dilemma: I had some information of wrong doings, and I wasn’t sure what to do with this information. If I shared the information with someone, I would negatively affect dozens of lives. If I kept the information to myself, I risked damaging my own sense of well-being, safety, security, as well as a handful of people around me. It was a struggle; each day I woke up with 1 thought in my brain: What should I do? And the problem with situations like that is you can’t ask anyone what the best solution is. First of all, they wouldn’t really know as they are not in the situation, and second, once they know the information, the cat has already been let out of the bag, so to speak. The choice of speaking or not speaking is no longer relevant at that point.

I was stuck, and I was miserable. I wasn't sleeping properly, I couldn’t concentrate on my homework, or on anything. I even remember how I felt at Senior Prom. While I had a good time and am glad I went, that was really the only thing on my mind. I was, and still am, horrendous at compartmentalizing.

Then one day I just said, “God, help me. What should I do?” I closed my eyes and was quiet. And then, about 10 seconds later, the answer came. It was so clear, and it came in the form of an image; no words, no judgment, just an image that portrayed, “You have to tell someone. And this is the person you are going to tell.” I was so certain that it was the right thing to do. I asked the person in the image, an adult mentor of mine (remember, I was still a kid at this time) if we could talk. I shared the information, no lives were ruined, and it was immensely helpful and undoubtedly life-changing for me. Looking back on that time, and how quickly the answer came, I am sorry I didn’t ask God sooner. I was religious, I went to church, I prayed every day… But for some reason, I didn’t pray about this specifically. I was so focused on figuring out the answer by myself, using my own brainpower, that it didn’t even cross my mind to ask God for a specific answer.

When I was 13 years old and in youth group in, I got a bible for attending 3 weeks in a row. Every teen got a bible for fulfilling this easy attendance requirement. It was a great incentive. And in each bible, 1 or 2 verses, specific to the recipient, were outlined. My verses were, “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened” (Matthew 7:7-8). I seem to forget about this passage when I’m struggling for an answer, but it’s an important one to keep close.

The second example came a few days ago. I wanted $123 to buy something for a friend. Technically, I had that much money in my bank account, but I knew that using it for this particular thing was maybe not the best choice right now. So I simply said, “God, I want $123. I don’t need it at all, but I’m just going to put it out there and see what You do.” And then nothing happened. About 3 or 4 times that week, I thought about this money; and just said, “If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be. So, again, it’s $123.” Reminding God of the amount, as if He could ever forget anything. And then I waited some more.

And then a week later, 2 wonderful things happened. I got an increase in hours at my part-time job (I know, probably not exactly the best for me, but it’s only a slight increase in hours), and I also had a change in my financial situation that is going to save me thousands of dollars in the future. Not a monetary gift, but something that will eventually save me quite a bit of money nonetheless.

In the second example, the specificity of the answer is a bit different; I think it's specific because it came relatively soon (1 or 2 weeks after I prayed), but it's also unspecific as it's not like I opened my door and found an envelope with exactly $123 inside. But, as a friend pointed out, the $123 was a limited view of the abundance that is there, that is everything I ever need and want, and more. Why stop at $123? Why limit God to $123?  

I know almost nothing about prayer. I sometimes get answers right away, and other times I have to wait a bit. I’m still waiting on answers to some questions. But I do know that when I pray, when I talk with God, I have peace in my heart. And sometimes it feels like He’s talking to me, or answering me, in a language I can understand. When this happens, it’s an amazing feeling, and I’m so grateful.

A Selfish Grief

So 4 months after I experienced a pretty big loss in my life (a dear friend passing away), I had some major breakthroughs in my grief. In the past couple weeks, I felt like I finally made some progress on dealing with these feelings. 

Recently I realized that there were 2 factors that were making this loss so hard for me:
1) I felt some regret and guilt about the last couple of interactions I had with this person.
2) The reasons I was feeling so much grief seemed very selfish to me. I'll explain below.

The regret factor was easy to figure out: I wished I had handled things differently the last time I talked with this person. Also, there was a time when I should have called, was urged by the circumstances and by my own intuition to call, and I didn't, and that turned out to be a mistake. What I've noticed with loss is that when there is guilt involved, I tend to grieve more... Not only do I miss the person, but I have all this other stuff to deal with as well. The grief becomes sorrow and shame at my own shortcomings and the ways I perceive that I failed the relationship, instead of just remaining as grief with missing the person and having their physical presence in my life.

But really, what use does regret have in our lives? It may prompt us to do things differently in the future, to take opportunities when they come and follow our intuition, but it doesn't change past situations. Regret coupled with someone passing away is, in that way, a pretty cruel emotion. It's like twisting the knife in an already horrible situation, when we are already feeling so much sadness.

The selfish side of the grief? Well, I miss my friend. But at this point, I am not overly concerned for her well-being. What I mean is, I know that she is doing just fine and that she has moved on to the next stage of her existence. I know without a doubt that she is close to God, as she has always been, and that she is surrounded by love and grace. I know that while her physical body has died, her existence, her identity, hasn't really gone anywhere. Love never dies, and she was all about love and she still is. But I am still sad because, although I'm confident that she is doing well and continuing on in her eternal existence, I miss having her physically here. I want to touch her hands, hear her laugh, tease her, hug her. My sadness is not out of worry over how she is doing, but about our friendship and how relationships must necessarily change when one passes on.

There is another part of the grief that seems selfish to me. My dear friend thought well of me, of course, as our dear friends tend to do. She was so effusive in her compliments of me, so loving and tender in her comments, always seeing the best side of me. When she passed away, I felt part of my good was lost as well. This makes about as much sense as if some part of a person can be lost just because their mirror breaks. But because she saw so much good in me, and I was doubting how much good other people saw, it was like I lost part of my self-esteem. Another friend of mine told me that all my good was not wrapped up in her. Her passing didn't mean that I suddenly lost some of my own innate worth. I don't know if this makes sense to anyone else, but my friend's comments helped me immensely.

Another friend asked me if I ever talked with my friend even though she had passed away. I could still talk with her; she wasn't really gone so why not? And my friend asked me if I had let her know that I was going to be okay. This was a new insight for me; I didn't realize that maybe my friend, although she had passed on, might realize or be cognizant of the fact that I was having a hard time with this grief. Suddenly, I didn't want my friend to worry about me anymore (if people can even worry after they've passed). I wanted her to feel content and continue on down her path, not worry about her family or friends still here. That same afternoon, I talked with her and let her know that although I missed her, I was going to be fine. And I told her that I would see her again sometime, so all was well. I got a wonderful sense of peace after this. I'm not exactly sure why this was, but I was so grateful.

Finally, another friend recently told me that this existence, this reality, was not all about the mortal. If that was all we had, this mortal experience that was in front of us, what was the point? What was our purpose? This was very helpful as well. There is so much more than can be seen with our human views.

As strange as it may sound, realizing that my grief was selfish was sort of comforting. It almost made the sadness seem less intense. With this realization, I can now remind myself that she is doing fine, that I just miss the connections we had when she was occupying a material body. It is reassuring to remind myself that, although I am struggling with the grief sometimes, it is not a bigger issue (eternity, her love, our emotional connection) that is in question here. Those things are all intact and are part of the truth of God and the truth of our friendship.

Gay and Christian

"Everything you are, God loves you no matter what, so don’t let (the criticism) ever come in your loving and close and intimate relationship with God. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that you can’t be a Christian and be gay. You never let Him go."

 

Some of the best advice I've gotten.

For me, coming out as gay was a spiritual experience. While my friend (of the quote, above) and I were talking, I had a revelation: God loved me, no matter what. I had always heard, in church and in bible studies, that God loved us, Jesus loved us, but I wasn’t sure if He loved me. I had felt, known really, that I was gay ever since I was 5 years old, the same age where I was cognizant of a relationship with God, and started learning about Christianity and its importance in my life. Yet every church I had ever been to had told me that being gay was a sin. See a problem here?

There is still a lot of controversy regarding religion and homosexuality. There probably will be for quite some time, maybe forever. But my friend’s advice rings true; whatever we do, whoever we are, we should always include God. Most of the work has been done for us; God is already there, already included, as He is omnipresent. How could He not be somewhere, especially in a loving relationship? It is our job to embrace that and make sure He is at the forefront of our thoughts and actions.

When I was 18, a dear friend gave me a ride home from our bible study. On the way there, I tentatively voiced the idea that I didn’t think that being gay was wrong. What I was really doing was testing the waters, seeing if she would still be my friend if I “came out” to her. She gently told me that she thought that it was a sin, and that God intended men to be with women and not with other men, or women with women. We talked for a few more minutes, but I was crushed; I hadn’t told her outright that I was gay, but if she had given me a different answer, that was going to be the next thing out of my mouth. And I so desperately wanted to confide in someone.

Two years later, at age 20, I was really questioning my life. I had tried dating men, hadn’t had any luck, and it always felt so fake, like I was living a lie every time I went on a date with a guy. But I thought that was the lie that I had to live, the role I had to play. Let’s try an experiment: For a second, imagine that you are asked (by your family, your fellow church members, your society) to date/kiss/marry a person of the gender that you are not naturally drawn to. Could you do it for a minute? For a month? A year, a lifetime? This was the future that I saw ahead of me, having to fit into a box that was just so unnatural and uncomfortable for me. I saw that I could either be gay, or be Christian, but I could not be both.

Fast forward 8 more years and a few more failed dating adventures with men. I finally reached a point of desperation. I called an out-of-town friend, one of the most spiritual, kind, loving, Christian people I know, to “confess” that I was gay. I was sure she was going to hate me. I even told her, before coming out to her, that she may never want to talk with me again. I stuttered and hemmed and hawed in my attempt to tell her, not able to get the words out.

“What is it? Just tell me.”

“Well, um, I, like,--”

And by some miracle, she misinterpreted my speech filler, “like”, (“I, like, went to the park”) as a verb, as in “I like ice cream.” One of the greatest moments of miscommunication in my life, as I didn't have to say the very word that I was scared of saying.

“You like women, you don’t like men, you are gay. Is this what you are trying to tell me?”

“Well… yes.”

“Well, that’s okay. That’s perfectly lovely! No big deal. You really had me worried!” Laughter. And that was that, the big scary moment that really wasn’t scary at all.

And then she proceeded to assure me that God loved me. Something that, after my decades of bible studies and church attendance and moments of God speaking to me, I hadn’t fully grasped because of the common interpretation that being gay was wrong. As if the love of God, the most powerful truth/presence/reality of our lives, could be deterred by such a material/temporary/insignificant thing as one’s sexuality. As if a thought in our minds could make God change His mind about how He felt about us.

This conversation with my friend was a turning point for me. It is an amazing feeling when you finally realize that God loves you, that you are worthy of being called His beloved creation, as all of us are. It was one of the best days of my life.

 

One more significant example of God's love for me was when I came out on Facebook a month ago. I have never received so many loving, wonderful, kind messages in my life. There was so much love on my Facebook page, in my email inbox, people who ran up to me in parking lots after meetings and events, people telling me, "You know, you are awesome and I am proud of you," people pouring so much love into my life. And if love is from God, as we know it is, then He was so present there when I came out. I am still just amazed by the amount of love I witnessed and experienced.

We are all here trying our best, trying to do what is right. And no matter where we are on the path of our lives, God loves us because that is His nature. God is Love. I hope that now that I realize that, I will never forget it. I hope I keep that close, as my identity as a beloved child of God.

13 ideas for 2013 - and a poem

Not exactly resolutions, but ideas to incorporate into my day-to-day actions and behaviors and thoughts.


13 ideas for 2013:

1. Giving up fear.
We're not here to be afraid of life. Cue Teddy Roosevelt's famous quote about nothing to fear. :)

2. Gratitude for the overwhelming quantity of good that is present.
There is always something we can be grateful for, and usually more than we could ever count.
 

3. Loving intensely, even if it also means being vulnerable.
Henri Nouwen has a great meditation about this:
"Do not hesitate to love and to love deeply. You might be afraid of the pain that deep love can cause. When those you love deeply reject you, leave you, or die, your heart will be broken. But that should not hold you back from loving deeply. The pain that comes from deep love makes your love ever more fruitful. It is like a plow that breaks the ground to allow the seed to take root and grow into a strong plant. Every time you experience the pain of rejection, absence, or death, you are faced with a choice. You can become bitter and decide not to love again, or you can stand straight in your pain and let the soil on which you stand become richer and more able to give life to new seeds."
Also, Leo Buscaglia talks about this as well. "All of us have this incredible potential to love, but it is only a potential... unless it's realized, unless you do something about it, it's not going to happen." http://youtu.be/87DRpZ1Ac0s

4. Honesty.
Not being afraid (#1) of letting people know how much I love them (#3). Trading my safety for my authenticity. (This last part is an idea from Brene Brown.)

5. Knowing that we are all loved unconditionally, we are worthy, and we belong.
This is undeniably true, no matter how we feel on our worst days. There is One who loves us unconditionally. And no matter how different we may feel, how much of an outcast or however unworthy, it is all bullshit. We are amazing and the Beloved.

 

6. Spending some time alone, quiet and intentional, instead of go-go-go.
I have a hard time slowing down. It's almost impossible for me to sit down on my couch and chill for more than 2 minutes. But this is important. When I have some solitude, without my phone or distractions, I seem to be more in tune with what God is saying. So I guess this is not really time alone, but time with God.
 

7. More green juice, less sugar.
Well, I just love www.rawfamily.com.
 

8. Read more, especially by Anne Lamott, Brene Brown, and Henri Nouwen.
Any other amazing spiritually-driven authors you guys know about? Please let me know!
 

9. Talk with myself in the same manner that I talk with my best friend.
It amazes me how mean we are to ourselves. The manner in which I talk with myself, I wouldn't talk with my worst enemy. And why aren't we a bit more compassionate with ourselves? This will be a big one for me this year.
 

10. More dog parks for Vin.
He agrees.
 

11. Listening to/watching more TED talks.
These are amazing. I love TED.
 

12. More journaling.
Somehow I figure out solutions to things when I write about them. The same happens when I go on a bike ride or a walk.
 

13. More time with what matters: family, friends, God.
While still honoring #6.


 

And the poem.

Others

Thinking today
About love
And intensity and strength;
And wondering what we all need.

It comes from within
And comes from above
But still, still...
Everyone needs someone in their life
Who says, "I adore you."

"You're the best."
"You make me laugh."
"I love you." 

 Otherwise, God would have made
7 billion little islands
Instead of 7 continents.

Letting Go

 

The year 2012 came to a close, and 2013 is the current "Now." But it was a bit hard for me to say goodbye to 2012.

As I've written before, 2012 was a pretty tough year, the toughest of my 30 years so far. But it was also the best. So many gifts, so much love, so many kind and generous gestures and happenings... it was overwhelming in all of its goodness. So much happened, too; it's definitely been the year where I've written the most blog posts, sent the most emails -- all long, sentimental, intense -- and posted the most on Facebook. There was a lot going on, both externally with my experiences and internally with how I was processing all of it.

So why is it hard to say goodbye to 2012? I had so many good times, and since those are all a part of me, I don't have to say goodbye to those experiences. For the struggles I faced in 2012, those are easy to let go of; I will not miss them. But there was one aspect of 2012 that I was anxious about saying goodbye to.

A couple months ago I learned that I had lost a very dear friend ("All is well."). I was shocked; it was an unexpected loss. And as the year started to come to a close, I suddenly felt a bit of panic; I didn't want this year to ever end, a year when she was here on earth and alive and well. In all of our human-created arbitrary numbers and timetables and calendars, I was clinging to 2012 because it was a time in my life, a frame of reference, where I could say, "She was here. And if she's not going to be in 2013, then I don't want anything to do with 2013 either." Looking back on this, it seems a bit comical, as if 2012 was a bathroom stall and my friend had written "I was here" on its wall. As if there were ever a time, or ever will be a time, where she won't be present... as if her identity could ever cease to be. But I remember I felt the same thing about November even; on November 1st I found out that she had passed away, and I didn't want November to ever end, because for a couple of waking hours that month, in the early morning hours before the phone call and the news, I had thought she was alive and well. And I wanted to forever remain in that mindset.

I know that seems a bit strange; desperately clinging to a time frame... Especially when we consider that God is timeless and our identities as God's children are also timeless. Even just thinking about the concept of time, we are the ones that think about days and years and birthdays and anniversaries (Time and Anniversaries). But within our human perspectives and thoughts, it can be hard to break away from the structures and foundations that we have built up, many having to do with time.

As I was thinking about not wanting to let go of 2012 (because I was sure I would feel even further from my friend than I currently did if we had to change years), I suddenly had a recovered memory of a moment with her. It was something that had happened over a year ago, in October 2011, and something I probably hadn't thought of since then. We were in a group, and she kept introducing me to people, and telling people things about me that she seemed proud of. Just little things, but the way she talked about me and introduced me to these people, I could feel her love and her admiration. I felt so loved by her then in that moment of 2011. And a couple days ago, when I was feeling like she was getting further and further away, this memory stopped me in my mental tracks and brought me such a sense of peace and love. I felt like she was right there, and again felt so much love from her. (Also, fun random unexpected fact: I was watching a movie at a friend's house this New Year's Eve, and we started the movie in 2012 and finished it in 2013. The setting of the movie? The exact city my friend lived in. Just another sign that merely moving from 1 year to the next couldn't change anything about my friend's identity or her presence in my life.)

One more thought: Sometimes our friends or family see us for what we're worth. They see all of our good and all of our value, and see us as God must see us. And when that friend or family member is away or maybe not even a part of our life anymore, it can be hard for us to remember that we are valuable and worthy. It is good to remember that we are valuable not because that person saw our value, but because that is how God made us. A friend of mine had some wise words of encouragement. "All your good is not wrapped up in that person." When my friend passed on, I felt my personal worth go down. But it's important to realize that my value is not as shifty or unpredictable as the stock market; I, along with all of God's other sons and daughters, am His beautiful creation and He knows that I am precious, unique, and full of worth. And my value has nothing to do with what another person thinks of me, and it cannot be lost just because the person affirming our worth seems to not be as accessible as they once were. There is a quote by Eleanor Roosevelt that I love: "What other people think of me is none of my business." It really doesn't matter what other people think, as God's opinion of us is the only one that matters.

On earth, we grieve. We sometimes feel sad. We experience loss. When thinking about our spiritual identity, no one can be lost. And love, good, is never lost. With these thoughts, I felt a sense of peace as our human calendar changed from Dec. 31, 2012, to Jan. 1, 2013. And I felt that all the love that was ever present was right there, undiminished and stronger than ever.

If it's Christmas, it's pink

 

 

My friend's mom, Ati, always liked the color pink. It was one of her favorite colors. And indeed, the very first time I met her, on a late afternoon in October of 2002, she was wearing a soft pink sweater. Now, when I look back on our relationship, the color pink is right there in my mind, an aura that is represents the love and the care and the gentleness in our friendship.

 

I've also heard that pink is a color that represents healing. Ati was always such a healing presence in everyone’s life, and such a comfort. You just felt so much better after talking with her, like everything was going to be okay. When you needed her, she was there, offering a hug and an uplifting word. Or maybe a joke that would ease the tension of the situation. Or a compassionate look, a listening ear, a gentle smile. She was the healing color of pink in everyone's life.

 

Ati's daughter did not like pink. She preferred darker colors, black and gray and navy blue. Ati knew this and so, when I came into Ati's life, I suddenly became the recipient of everything pink. I will always remember that first gift from Ati, for Christmas 2002: a white shirt with a pink flower on it. That started the trend, and from then on, at each Christmas I got pink shirts, pink pajamas, and even pink shoes as gifts. I was bombarded with pink things. However, what Ati didn’t know was that I didn’t really like the color pink either! But I couldn’t tell her that, could I? She had already been unable to shop for pink things for her daughter, and I didn't want to hurt her feelings. Her daughter always laughed every time I got a pink gift, probably out of relief that she was no longer the recipient. 

 

An interesting thing happened, though; over the years, I began to develop a taste for the color pink. It was always associated with Ati, and in this way, I became a fan. I liked wearing the pink pajamas because they made me think of her, especially since she had a matching purple pair. I liked the pink shirt. I never got into wearing the pink shoes (they didn't match anything I owned), but I couldn't bear to throw them out. They made me happy, just to look at them.

 

Another interesting thing happened over the years: Ati's daughter started to wear pink as well! Pink sweaters, pink blouses… wearing pink made her feel closer to her mom. Ati managed to convert both of us into pink people.

 

Ati was a very special person in my life. She was loving, kind, and maternal. She was so full of love and life and warm, wonderful feelings. And while she held, and will always hold, an important role in my life, she always thought about the other people I had in my life as well... relationships that needed repairing, connections that could be restored. And she always wanted to do whatever she could to help those reparations happen. Ati was always generous and warm, having such a healing effect on people. She is the color pink.