Hauntings

It’s a rare individual who is not haunted in some way. Haunted by memories of things we could have done differently. Times when we could have been kinder, could have said something different that might have changed the way things happened. We are haunted by memories of people and animals we’ve lost. Haunted by the changing landscape and ecosystem around us. Haunted by the violence we’ve committed throughout our lifetimes no matter how small and seemingly insignificant. These hauntings leave traces. Resonances. Specters in the night.

Mine visit in the wee hours of the morning. I wake at 3 am or 4am, well before light, and lay there in bed thinking of the specters that haunt me. These specters are not frightening. No. They’re familiar — like ghostly old friends. Quiet and sad. As I walk with the dogs through the quiet streets in the early morning fog, these specters are there with me and I acknowledge them and make my silent apologies.

These walks are a sort of meditation. With each step in the early morning darkness, I apologize and I make a quiet commitment to try to move through the day without doing harm.  Without performing those subtle acts of violence — giving into anger, frustration, anxiety. Many days I fail. No, most days I fail.

I’ve been thinking about religion lately, mostly the acts of confession and forgiveness. I’ve been thinking about this notion that by acknowledging the harm we’ve done, by atoning for it in some way, we find forgiveness. I think the role of god in this forgiveness process is to forgive us when the people in our lives can’t. So that we can have some closure. I’m not a believer in god per se, so forgiveness, particularly from people or animals who are dead and gone, does not come easily — from god or anyone else.

Forgiveness involves a letting go. Or maybe, more precisely, it involves letting go of feeling guilty for what you’ve done. For me, I don’t think I can let go of those actions, the mistakes I’ve made, the loved ones I’ve lost. They are there — all of them — quiet in the darkness of the morning. They fade into the background in the light of day, to return just before dawn as my solemn companions. My reminder to move through the day thoughtfully and gently.

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