No more apologies.
Not one more.
You are not on this earth to be a living apology.
None of us are.
Yes. We fuck up. Every last one of us.
And yes, there is grounding to be found in committing to the hard and holy work of trying to make it right.
There is also deep wisdom in knowing that sometimes there isn’t a right to be made.
Whatever it is that you’ve done.
Whatever weight you are carrying.
Whatever breach of your own integrity you’ve lived through.
Here you are. Living in the guilt and self-flagellation and inward-directed recrimination. You’re telling stories about yourself where you’re painted the villain, every single time.
So, you did a thing that you’ve named wrong, or the world has named wrong, or a loved one has named wrong or some powerful dudes who compiled a book of parables and myths thousands of years ago made wrong.
How entirely human of you.
Own it all.
Stand in the truth of it.
Make the apology you need to make to close your own open wound.
Do what you can to stanch the flow of blood in the others.
And then be done.
Listen to me, now.
Your atonement was never intended to be a full-time job.
There is nothing to be gained by carrying your own apology until it threatens to bury you under its weight.
Warning: the people and structures in your life may not be comfortable with your sudden refusal to continue with your guilty confessional.
Yes, it is true.
Sometimes the one thing that others cannot handle is your refusal to apologize even one more time.
But it is done, whatever it is.
Because it is now a part of your bone and heart and guts and it has changed you.
Because in some inexplicable way, you are better for it.
Because you finally even like it there, like what it has made of you, as much as it may have broken.
Because even if you don’t understand why, you needed it the way it was and the way it is, no matter the fallout.
Because owning the damage caused does not mean that you must spend your life cleaning it up over and over again, in some groundhog day spiral of guilt.
Because you can’t undo it, you can only move on from it.
Because staying where you are is a vicious sort of quicksand, pulling you back down into a depths you’ve pulled yourself out of one too many times already.
When you say no more apologies; not in your words or your actions not in your body or in your experience, this is when the real illumination begins.
So, be done with your penance love.
Stand tall, not in the shadows of your wrongdoing, but in the full light of your inescapable truth.
Learn to love what your living has made of you.
Author: Jeanette LeBlanc
- Where do you need to make a final apology and close an open wound, and finally let go?
I need to apologize to my sister. For all that I could not do for her, and for all that I could have done and did not. I deeply loved my sister and hated her disease. It went deeper than alcoholism; I remember people telling me when I was in college that it was not up to me to save my sister. Even knowing that, after her death, all those feelings came to the surface again and I know that I failed her.
- What stories are you telling yourself that may be negative and unnecessary (remembering last week’s work…) is it true, is it a construct, is it something you need to let go of? I think that her death is my fault because I wasn’t there for her in so many ways. In my mind I know that it is not true, her journey was hers alone. But over the years, could I have done better? I know I could have been a better sister, but she did make it difficult to be what I wanted to be. That we never had the relationship that I wanted is this thing I need to let go of.
- When you question these things, what is illuminated for you? I would have never had the true sister to sister love with my sister. There were so many things that went against that for us, and it deeply saddens me. I wanted to always be there for each other. For us to go on vacations together. For our children to grow up together. It is very ironic to me that the thing on this list that came true was not for me, nor my sister – it is that our children are growing up together. That is the hidden blessing.
- Perhaps journal about these things, paint, collage, vision board, or some other way of making these things visible for yourself? Or not. Whatever you are called to do and share. I did make a collage – “Sisters Collage, Veck & Reha”. See below. This was healing in a way, because not only did I use some of my favorite photos of Rhea and I, but I found some other pictures of sisters – both young and old. They represent Rhea and I throughout time – even as older women, which can never be in real life.
- Exercise extreme love and appreciation for yourself, just as you are, this week! How many ways can you find to do that? Meditation, loving my family, loving my sister in absentia. Listening to music. Viewing art. Planning for the future.
“In the still darkness of night’s resting, I curl up in courage’s arms. Courage can rise with roar or hold me in gentle embrace. It wards off the shame mongers and beautifully chants her hum to the stirring of morning rising. Courage takes the hand of strength and clasps my hand into hers. I need not lean into blame or shame or dance with why because I have never invited them to my holding space for where I am right now. I dance with brave and the beauty of my life as it is right now. What clothes me in sentiment and hope also robes me with tenacity and perseverance. Do not clang your symbol if it is not meant to cheer the weak on. Do not invite your words to rest in my mind if they do not speak of grace and compassion. I invite the words from within me to do the same. If I rest weary sometimes, I rest by the pool of waters made by my tears that cleanse me from my weary. What storms the gates of my journey is mine alone to hold and release. We all come to our journey’s reach, no one can take it from us. Your light holds the presence of day over your walking way, as it does over mine. Our light interweaves to shine on this dark world together. I’ve reach for change in my way, do not spill guilt upon it. It rest between the trees where the ancient willow trees whisper saying, we are the Grandmothers that hold the souls of the wise ones, wisdom holds your truth dear one, not the naysayers of myths of doubt. Lean into your light and into the love in your heart; find your howl, find your voice. “♥️
Author Maureen Kwiat Meshenberg ©