
Thoughts on Forgiveness and Breaking the Rules: A Message for Tina
| Apology and Forgiveness |
The primary rule I’ve lived by for success in recovering from the damage of my dysfunctional relationship with Tina has been simple: No Contact.
I don’t know for sure whether Tina ever reads this blog, but since she occasionally sends friends and family over to Amazon to drop one-star reviews on my book, The Adventures of Dan and Tina, I’m guessing she takes a glance once in a while. So, this post is not typical. I’m writing it to share some insights with my readers in general but also, specifically with Tina’s attention in mind. That’s contact, if indirect. I have my reasons.
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I’ve had a number of recent experiences that ultimately prompted me to write this. Bear with me as I explain them before getting to my ultimate point.
Most (if not all) people will be familiar with the phenomenon of thinking of someone, particularly someone you haven’t seen or thought of for a while, only to have them suddenly appear. Perhaps, a chance meeting at the airport. Maybe an out of the blue phone call, or even wilder, the person turns up on your television (this has happened to me). I don’t believe these premonitions of chance encounters are mere coincidence – at least not always.
While I was in the thick of the tumultuous on-again-off-again relationship with my ex, I was convinced that I could somehow sense her mood and her proximity from afar, when we were on intersecting courses in space-time. By that, I mean, she may have been in another state, but somehow I knew I’d be seeing or hearing from her in the near future. She was close in time, if not also space. I was invariably correct and ascribed some mystical significance to that. I referred to it as “spooky action at a distance,” which was how Einstein derisively described quantum entanglement theory (not mere theory anymore – it’s recently become a proven facet of reality).
After the grand finale and entering into a period of strict no-contact, I convinced myself that it had just been a trick of the mind – I was rewriting memories to fit the mystical belief or it really was just coincidence or maybe, since I was thinking about her all the time, when she inevitably did turn up, confirmation bias kicked in and I simply failed to recall times I thought I sensed her proximity and she didn’t appear.
Now, after around seven years of no contact, I know the phenomenon is not only real, but it’s still occurring. My Tina detector still functions. Two recent events have convinced me of that.
The other night, I happened upon a video about “remote viewing.” I didn’t watch much of it, because I concluded pretty quickly that it was all nonsense and not a very entertaining presentation. I was also ready to go to bed. The presenter was running through a number of precognition methods and the last one he described before I switched it off was simply asking yourself a question: “When the next person contacts you, who will it be? I’ll prove it to you,” he exhorted. “Ask yourself the question and see what happens.”
I scoffed. I knew about and acknowledged the reality of sensing when a person was going to turn up by randomly thinking of them just before they call, but I also knew it was an instinctive thing. You couldn’t prompt it. Who would answer?
To prove the absurdity of the notion, I asked myself aloud, “Who’s the next person I’ll hear from?”
A voice, surprisingly clear in my mind said, “Tina.”
“Ha!” I scoffed at my own brain (or wherever the voice came from). “Wrong!” I knew that wasn’t going to happen. “‘Scam Likely,’ or some telemarketer will be the next thing I see on my phone,” I guessed. I went to bed confident that the “remote viewing” video was all silly nonsense. I was actually chuckling at the absurdity of the notion and wondering why on Earth my brain would spit that ludicrous answer back at me.
First thing in the morning, I had an unusual and immediate interest in my publishing account on Amazon. It’s not part of my morning routine, but almost as soon as opened my eyes, I logged in to check on sales stats, ad spending and book reviews. The Adventures of Dan and Tina, I noticed, had a new one-star review… by Tina’s cousin.
It read thusly:
Two Sides to Every Story
Two sides to every story… after all the man is a writer. That’s what he does for a living, he embellishes the truth for a good book and to turn a profit at the expense of someone who needs help. Also a man scorned is vindictive, do you not easily see how this could very easily not [be] the full truth and just a bash book on poor Tina? Everyone has a time in their life they aren’t proud of. Hope she’s at least getting some royalties out of this.
Taking a cynical view and guessing Tina had a hand in the creation of the review (since I very much doubt her cousin just randomly happened upon my book listing, somehow recognized that it was about her cousin and decided to give me a piece of her mind), I could easily read into it as a textbook hoover. From that perspective, one could find triangulation, a flying monkey, covert victimhood in “poor Tina,” and “someone who needs help.” The bit about royalties might smell a bit like entitlement, to boot.
However, I choose to take a more charitable view, partly because of my own rather recent transformation in thought and (admittedly I’m a sucker for this kind of thing) “someone who needs help” struck a chord. I’ll take the review as sincere.
Being told right before bed that the next person I’d hear from would be Tina, and waking up to this fresh review submitted by her cousin was only the latest example of that still-functioning Tina detector.
Some time ago, I went to the Minneapolis airport and as I entered the terminal, I thought – I knew, “Oh, shit. Tina’s here.” I hadn’t seen her. I had no earthly reason to think this, but I was sure of it in my gut. A short while later, I spotted Tina’s mom by the arrivals doors. I still didn’t see Tina, so I’m not sure if she was accompanying her mom or not, but either way, the detector was clearly still aware of her sphere.
When Tina and I were on one of many rocky spells, I said something to her like, “Whatever happens with us romantically – if we break up and can’t work it out, I hope we’ll always at least be friends.” I truly considered her my best friend at the time.
She replied, “I have a feeling that no matter what happens, there will be a connection between us forever.”
That could be seen as basic or even hollow romance talk, but Tina sounded certain and her prophecy of a permanent connection is proving correct. It sounded sweet at the time, but being connected to someone forever may not always turn out to be a good thing! Setting aside the spooky action, and despite Tina’s misgivings, the book chronicling our star-crossed relationship has been sold on every continent on Earth and is part of the vast, permanent collection in the United States Library of Congress. Even if I were to discontinue sales, existing copies of The Adventures of Dan and Tina will likely persist long after we have both left this world. That’s irrevocable, for good or ill.
The relationship fundamentally altered me and the trajectory of my life. There’s no getting around that either and I’ve tried, but like most things in life, there is some good with the bad.
If two people are doomed to a permanent, spiritual, psychological, philosophical or otherwise intangible connection, it’s probably better if the thoughts and energy between them aren’t dark.
In a dysfunctional relationship, things can never be all bad. A relationship could never even begin if that was the case. My resentment closed me off from good experiences and happy memories that were always overcome by negative emotions as I associated everything with the bad stuff. I was depriving myself of my own experiences and a chance to learn and grow from them.
Freeing myself from the bond I experienced required drastic action on my part. Or so I thought. I was desperate and determined the part of me that was made for connecting with other people had to be utterly destroyed. I ripped it out and took a blowtorch to the wound to make good and sure it wouldn’t grow back. I’ve been in other relationships since, but found I’m still incapable of forming those kinds of emotional bonds. It worked. It’s dead. To my own detriment.
But I survived and I’ve thrived. I’ve written a number of times about the importance of forgiveness. I recommend it to people similarly situated. I told myself a hundred times or more that I forgave her, but there was always some lingering ember of resentment in my heart. Was I vindictive when I published my book? I wrote it to better understand what happened and to heal. I published it to help others (and from the tremendous feedback I’ve received from readers I know it’s helped a lot of people). There was certainly an element of anger in it, though. I was angry (not just with Tina, but myself as well), even as I tried to put genuine forgiveness into practice. Not for Tina’s or anyone else’s sake. For myself. Forgiveness is not necessarily for the benefit of those who’ve hurt you. It’s primarily important for your own well-being.
Recently, I’ve had something of a spiritual awakening and I’m perceiving the world and its inhabitants differently. I’ve concluded that there is at least a spark of a divine, transcendent consciousness in everyone. We’re all made of the same stuff by the same creator and we’re all connected – some more profoundly than others. I could see myself in Tina (and I know exactly how Tina will misread that). I had lost faith in humanity, but now see humans as primarily spiritual beings, only playing physical games. I’ve perceived in a way that would take too long to adequately describe, a vast and powerful field of infinite love and compassion throughout the universe. Coming to grips with that, I felt ashamed and needlessly burdened by that smoldering ember of resentment. I determined that I wanted it gone, and in an instant, it was. I felt a tremendous weight come off of me. It took seven years, but at last, I experienced true forgiveness. Not just of Tina, but everyone, including myself. It was and continues to be a tremendous relief.
I’ve made many grievous errors. Though I try to live a good life with kindness, my own failings are numerous. I wrote about some, but not all. Going back to Tina’s cousin’s review: Yes. There are two sides. Tina, no doubt has valid complaints about my behavior – especially when I was drinking. I strive to be better.
In an effort to foster healing and reduce negativity, I’ll conclude with a message direct to her, for whatever it’s worth:
Tina, for all my own mistakes and failings, I am sorry and I forgive you.
If, as the review suggests, you feel you are in need of some kind of help, please go find it. I really hope you are happy and thriving.
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