礼品之路 ( Lǐpǐn zhī lù ) – the Gift of Forgiveness

There is so much that cannot be fixed.

I can repay a debt.

Sometimes.

Not always.

I can fix a chair.

Sometimes.

But mostly, even the fixed chair is never as it was before.

But I can forgive.

Myself.

And those with whom I share life.

Or once shared life.

To forgive is to wipe the slate clean.

To forget.

Yes, I know, popular wisdom says, forgive, but do not forget.

礼品之路 ( Lǐpǐn zhī lù ) is not popular wisdom.

Our Origin is the Master of forgiveness.

(s)He does not forgive & then uses that which has been forgiven as leverage to manipulate or coerce.

(s)He forgives.

And it is as if whatever was hurtful, whatever was destructive, never was.

Never happened.

Never.

The East & the West can never meet, running from each other, with great fervour,  to become each other.

Our Source removes our brokeness from us, as far as the East is from the West.

This is the whisper of ancient wisdom.

(s)He dumps it in the deepest ocean.

Never to be found.

This is the ointment of wise ones who breathed the breath of (s)He.

(s)He restores.

My being.

And it is as if the destruction never happened.

As if the debt was never incurred.

Our Origin does not reposess.

(s)He does not clear the debt by taking back what was given.

Our Origin leaves us in posession of everything gained, taking away only that which destroyed.

(s)He is forgiveness.

Restorer.

(s)He is forgiveness in a sense & way which is foreign to our world.

Stunningly forgetful of whatever is destructive.

And I breathe that I may be forgiveness, as (s)He is my Sourceror.

Forgiving without remembrance.

The only fix which exists in this realm or the other.

The only ‘fix’ which is complete.

As if it never was.

Whatever hurt.

Whatever destroyed.

Whatever broke.

As if it never existed.

Whatever brought desperation.

Whatever killed.

Whatever strangled.

As if it never happened.

Whatever stole.

Whatever took away.

Whatever indebted.

Our Origin’s forgiveness, never license for more destruction, but restoration, redemption, at-one-ment.

Changing the essence of what I would’ve been, in issolation.

What I would’ve been without the Sourcery of our Sourceror.

Affecting my being.

To be forgiveness.

To forgive as if it never happened.

Unable to solicit the same for myself, from anyone.

Only able to give it.

To live it.

To be it.

Wherever I am.

And so I breathe, as I see our Origin’s unpopular forgiveness, that I may be forgetful too, forgiving beyond reason.

To myself.

And every being with whom I share my existence.

And I breathe that we may be overwhelmed with this.

This unsolicited, forgetful forgiveness.

In our relationships.

With those who once were so precious in our lives.

Us, becoming at-oned with (s)He, in our being, as we are forgiveness.

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