Forgive and Forget...

I spent a wonderful weekend recently with two very special friends...

One I've known for probably fifteen years and love like a sister. We worked together all that time ago, and hated our public-facing jobs in a pair of crumbling Jobcentres. We clung to to one another amid such turmoil; we shared tears and torrid tales of half-or-wholly-mad customers we'd just had the pleasure of interviewing, and talked of derring deeds and running away from it all. ...We cackled a deux over snatched tea-breaks, and a half of lager at the local Working Mens' Club on a Friday lunchtime, when the awld fellas would give up their seats to us, beckoning their mates away, "Howay man, lads, give ower, it's the lasses from the Dole!"

Elaine, whom I call Elle, after The Body McPherson, is to treasure.

That same Sunday, GJ and I headed for Carlisle, a town I haven't spent much time in, to see Sara; Carlisle is a buzzing, vibrant, clever little spot in the west of the country... Sara is wonderful, incroyable, and writes better than I ever can and THIS POST made me cry. Although we've only known one another for the brief and bright life of our blogs, we have clicked like only old souls can. We are âmes sœurs, absolument...

I want to be as talented, as beautiful, as mature as Sara when I grow up and stop being a little girl, stuck in a child's tantrum, tight blonde pigtails flaring and my face flushed crimson with anger.

And I am so grateful to her, for our friendship and love...

Sara might think that I went into counselling mode with her, over over-flowing wine and fine tapas dishes in a lovely crowded bistrot that emptied around us like magic as the short evening wore on; There I go again, proffering advice to others on how to live better, be more happy, being good to yourself.

How very dare I?

In actual fact, Sara knows me better than I know myself and she gave me a much-needed lesson in how to let go of hate, how to forgive others. And as they say in the Great Book, the scales fell from my eyes.

Holding on to hate, or grief for too long, gathering negative feelings to us is a futile pastime.

For anyone.

I have wallowed over-long in grief and sorrow. Always looking at life through a hazy veil. Having my view on life coloured by tragic circumstances outwith my own control, by others' twisted emotions, their bitter lies... I was ignorant, telling myself that I was justified, holding the thought to myself that life just hadn't treated me fairly.

What did it serve, hanging on to this dark cord, attaching me to wrong-doing and anger? To someone I couldn't love but couldn't bring myself to hate, now she is gone from my life...

Who did it serve? Not me. Not my lost parents. Nor my family, or friends.

...Not me...

So, since meeting Sara and receiving her solid and learned wisdom, thank you Sara - You are part of my heart - I have been taking time, sitting at my desk during the day, envisioning letting go of this bad feeling, dissipating this draining energy.

I have written down words of forgiveness on a piece of paper I am currently carrying around with me in my electric blue handbag. I have envisioned white light surrounding us both, the perpetrator and me, from head to foot. Swirls of lightning energy...

And as the light grows and brightens, it melts the thick black cord that twines us both, freeing her, liberating me.

And I do feel better. A bit.

Lighter.

Freer.

I invite you to try it for yourself if there's a bad feeling, some weight, an energy-draining spirit whose tainted emotion you want to free yourself of...

Du courage!

Let me know how you get on?

CLICKIE The sculptures created by Anne Mimi Sammis, whose passion for love and peace, embody the joy, the dance of love between ourselves and others. Enlarged, the sculptures possess a majesty and greater power to convey their message. The small Dove of Peace was enlarged to roughly 6 feet across for its perch on top of the Aspen Chapel.

Anne Mimi Sammis creates commissioned small and large scale bronze sculptures for private and corporate clients worldwide.