Forgiving Ourselves – A Yom Kippur Reflection

It was a Wednesday afternoon. I had taken the afternoon off to go down to the beach on a day when it isn’t crowded, because I wanted space and because my brain still gets overwhelmed in crowds. 

So, there I am sitting on the beach, watching the waves, feeling the breeze, totally in the moment, when my wife and I noticed a child with their parent running towards the other parent. It was a precious moment, this young child, about 3-years-old, the glee on their face and the joy in their eyes. Their parents seemed to be having fun too.

I am taken back to 20 years ago. As a single mom, I am sitting on the beach, my three kids plus a friend’s kid with me. All I do is count: 1, 2, 3, 4 and again: 1, 2, 3, 4. I barely allow myself to feel the glory of the sun, or the beach, or the sand, or the wind. My body is so used to being in survival mode. I am making sure to reapply sunscreen, especially on my youngest, as they burn so quickly. I am handing out food and water and scanning the crowds of kids, where are they? Oh here, 1, the other one is there 2, and 3 and 4 are in the water. I breathe and repeat. 1, 2, 3, 4. Over and over and over again.

How I wish I could redo that moment. To sit in it, and bask in the joy of having my kids running on the beach, not worrying about the sunscreen and the food and the water. Yes, of course, I need to do those things. I am the parent I need to take care of them. What might it have looked like if I also could have let go, also felt the joy, and actually played with them? 

Yom Kippur is a time for forgiveness, both towards others but also for ourselves.

What might forgiveness look like if I forgave the many things I did wrong when my kids were younger, the many ways I messed up? 

There is a part of me that knows I did the best I could with the circumstances that I was in. Yet, these memories show up over and over again. So, this year as Yom Kippur approaches, I am trying a different tactic. Instead of talking myself out of it, “you did the best you could, what do you expect, you were a single mom… etc.”  

This year, I am taking time to hold the younger version of myself with compassion, to see them as the overwhelmed parent that they were and to send them love. I am allowing myself to cry for and with them, to understand the depth of loneliness, fear, and isolation they felt on that beach. The sheer overwhelm of making sure that the four kids with them would remain safe, would be able to run free, would have the joy and a childhood that I never had. And I breathe… I cry and breathe and hold these parts of me. 

As I do all this, I notice that I am slowly beginning to forgive myself.

What in your life do you need to forgive about yourself?

What do you constantly wish you did differently?

Can you hold yourself kindly, ever so gently, and send love to the parts of you that couldn’t do it differently? Can you hold them in compassion and fully see them?

May we all learn to forgive ourselves fully and completely, and in doing so, may we have the capacity to hold in compassion those who have hurt us.

G’mar Chatima Tova.

Many blessings,
Chani

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