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Forgiveness

June 22, 2016

I drive down Highway One, top down, looking for the trees. Half a mile South of the lighthouse in Pescadero, I see the familiar fence separating the meadow from the road.

I pull over and turn the car off. The engine slowly clicks into silence. Then I grab my daypack, hop the fence, and hike towards the trees. The breeze ripples through the brush as I walk. At the far edge is the open Pacific. Big blue summer sky above.

I discovered this meadow when I first moved to California. I’d get in my car and just drive and drive, amazed by the massive beauty of the Pacific Northwest. There’s nothing in the world quite like it.

Years ago, I brought a girlfriend here. When we reached the trees, I tore out a piece of paper from my notebook, handed her a pen.

“You need to forgive yourself,” I said to her.

She still carried guilt from her divorce. It was time for her to let it go.

“Write down whatever you’re holding against yourself,” I said. “Everything. Then forgive yourself. Write that down too. When you’re done, we’re going to give this paper to the ocean. It’ll set you free.”

She was quiet for a long while. I think she might have cried a little.

“You have to forgive yourself too,” she said. “For not going to medical school.”

One amazing thing about women, their wisdom. She was right. I’d chosen startups over a career in medicine and no matter what story I told myself, it was a selfish choice. Of money over doing something that mattered to me. A choice I hadn’t come to terms with.

So we both worked on our letters, then we hiked down to the waves, balled up the papers, and threw them into the ocean. And you know what, it worked. Something released inside and I never looked back. The regrets about giving up on med school went away. On their own. So simple, this exercise.

Here I am at the grove, once again, this time alone. Only two windswept trees left. The third lies across the grass, the long trunk charred. Lightning strike, perhaps. A shorter trunk sits a few feet apart, bleached white by the wind and rain.

I climb it and stare out at the ocean. Early evening. The sun is high and large. The water below it, all the way to the horizon, shimmers a path of gold.

I pull out my notebook from my daypack, tear off a piece of paper, and write. Today’s date. What I’m holding against myself. For screwing up when I knew better. For closing my heart. For hurting more than I needed to. For the mistakes. Everything.

Finished, I write that I forgive myself. For it all. And in that moment of forgiveness, I write that I am clean and pure. Because I know I am.

That is the first step. There are two more left. Life has taught me this much in the time between when I first discovered this grove and today.

I hike down to the beach, sit on a rock, and watch the waves. They crash and crinckle over the pebbly shore. I raise the letter to the sky and read it out loud. All that I hold against myself. All the forgiveness.

I repeat this until it’s not needed anymore. Then I reach behind me and grab a large pebble. When I see it, I laugh. It’s shaped like a heart. Ah life, you do have a sense of humor.

I fold the paper tight around the stone heart, stare at the waves again. This is a sacred moment. Of giving over all that I held against myself to something bigger. For it to do what it may. For it to take it away from me so that I may unburden myself. So I may live the life I’m meant to live. After all, it’s the things we hold against ourselves that weigh us down more than anything.

When the moment feels right, I throw the rock high in an arc into the water. It splashes in a quick plop, then it’s gone. The waves rush over and around it. That easy. I watch for a while, wondering if the water will return it to me. It doesn’t.

I hike back up to the grove, sit on the trunk again, and pull out the notebook. This time, I write a different letter to myself. Short and to the point:

Dear Kamal,

 I vow to love you fully and completely and deeply in every way, in all thoughts, in all actions, in all my desires, and my being. I vow to love you, Kamal.

I sign and date it.

I put the notebook down, stare out at the sun. It’s moved halfway down the sky. The wind shimmers through the tall, brown grass. It’s getting chilly. I throw on my jacket, take it all in.

Then, back to my notebook, and I read out aloud. My vow to myself. From a clean and pure place. This, my starting point. It feels beautiful. It feels, well…it feels right.

That’s how you know when you’ve hit it. When it feels right. No one can teach you this, you just have to do it. And the more you do, the more you develop a trust in this feeling, the more you listen to it, the more you live it. And this transforms your life.

 


The novel I’ve spent the last few years working on is finally coming out.  Based on my life, it’s a story about love, forgiveness, and following your heart.

If you pre-order it, that would mean the world to me.  It’s available online here:

Amazon I Barnes & Noble I IndieBound I Books-A-Million I Indigo
18 Comments leave one →
  1. TTS permalink
    June 22, 2016 10:45 pm

    Thank you. I emailed you several months ago and you were so patient with me while I tried to find words for myself to better live by. (I find “I love myself” to still be un-toppable. ). Today after reading this post I feel like you came at the nick of time. I would like to try this too, there are so many things I hold inside that hold back the greater things I could be doing to just be myself. Thank you for sharing and being one of the most genuine people I have ever talked to. I hope you have a good rest of your week!

    • June 22, 2016 10:51 pm

      What a beautiful sentiment. Thank you so much. And yes, definitely do this….and reach out anytime!

    • October 27, 2016 3:06 pm

      My pleasure, Teyan.

  2. Margarita permalink
    June 23, 2016 1:28 am

    No words. Just love…. X

  3. Margarita permalink
    June 23, 2016 1:46 am

    Beautiful

  4. June 28, 2016 6:28 am

    Beautiful. Thank you for this.

  5. Cathy permalink
    June 30, 2016 1:00 pm

    This post has been sitting in my mailbox for a week now. I am reading a book about making changes to my life, as I’m now 48 and am tired of feeling unchallenged with work but stressed by some of the life paths I’ve taken. I had just finished reading about what action steps I need to take to get out of my comfort zone.
    Then I saw your blog message and as I read it I knew this was the first action step. I need to do this. I just went outside and picked out a rock….it’s a little boring and brown, but maybe that’s the perfect thing to throw in the water along with the things I need to forgive, both of myself and others.
    Thanks Kamal, for your inspiration.

  6. jason harnum permalink
    July 2, 2016 2:24 pm

    Kamal…you F’ing Rock!

  7. Lauren Dayton permalink
    July 10, 2016 9:35 am

    I had to read this twice, on two separate days to let it really sink in. The first time just peaked my curiosity. Am I really holding such a grudge upon myself? I’ve done a Lot of work on Lauren. Surely I’ve forgiving enough myself. I mean, I think I have. Hmmmm, …maybe… That door which was only slightly cracked open ignited a firestorm of random examples which flashed through my thoughts at the most random of times. First as I walked across my living room, “You’ve never forgiven yourself for not pursuing music in college.” Ok, there’s one. As I set down a coffee cup the next day, Boom! I never forgave myself for going to law school to please my parents. But these were clearly rip offs from Kamal’s example. Not very original. At that moment, Boom! BOOM!! You’ve never forgiven yourself for the Memories that came when you were 28 years old, for being a victim before that, for feeling like a human wad of “damaged goods” afterward. And for the next few days, the stream went like this interspersed with meditations of “I love myself”. For confronting and not confronting. For knowing it was never your fault but still acting like it somehow was. For carrying all that baggage and being so hard on yourself all these years. For procrastinating with the work God put on your heart. For retreating from “business” to raise four babies. For all the self loathing. For abusing food for as long as I can remember. For KNOWING there was so much work to be done, but always choosing to be too busy to do it. For Never being present. For walking away from so many adventures,… There are so many, many more. I have only scratched the surface, I think. For once, I’m not scared at all.
    As I read this post for the second time, I see the simple beauty of this process. Thank you, Kamal. I have a letter (maybe a thesis) to write. Michigan doesn’t have an ocean nearby, but there are plenty of lakes with lots of rocks. I’m going to develop a heck of a pitching arm! Better late than never,…
    Lauren

  8. September 26, 2016 6:16 pm

    Oh my! I have recently become a forgive coach. (That’s a long story) I have workshops starting in October, I love this, I will definitely share this as part of my class. I bought 12 copies of your book, Love Yourself for these workshops! I found you through Vishen’s book, The Code of the Extraordinary Mind. I love his book, I love your book and so happy I have found you both! (Just for you oldie but goodies out there…it is never too late to make big changes..I am in my 60’s and finding people like Kamala and Vishen are getting me back to rockin’ and rollin’) Thank you Kamal

  9. Biljana permalink
    October 5, 2016 10:17 am

    Hi. I hope you have a beautiful day:-)

  10. Karin permalink
    October 9, 2016 1:30 pm

    Beautiful practice, and it does work. I live in Las Vegas so I burn mine and let the smoke carry it away…

  11. misskarinmarie permalink
    October 9, 2016 1:31 pm

    Beautiful practice, and it does work. I live in Las Vegas so I burn mine and let the smoke carry it away…

  12. misskarinmarie permalink
    October 25, 2016 1:53 pm

    Just preordered !! Looking forward to an amazing journey. Love the way you write Kamal…beautiful and such an inspiration.

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