A heartache comes up, with an image of a situation from my early twenties.

I thank it for being there. Thank you. Thank you.

Thank you for being there for me.

Thank you for supporting me. For wishing the best for me. For being devoted to me.

Thank you for loving me. For being love.

I love you.

I am sorry. I am sorry I have pushed you away for so long. I am sorry for having seen you as an enemy.

I am sorry for having made you into an “other”. I am sorry for not recognizing your love, your devotion to me.

I am sorry for not having recognized you as Spirit. I am sorry for not having taken that recognition seriously, to heart.

You have permission to be. You have permission to be here.

You don’t have to change. You can be here, as you are.

You already have permission to be here, before “I” say yes or no to you. And now you have my permission as well.

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