True confession: I have a tendency to hoard. Resentments and grievances seem to accumulate like old sweaters, piling up at the bottom of my heart. Not only do I collect huge hurts that can fester for years, but I also indulge in small slights and offenses. I can accumulate these grievances, both large and small until my heart resembles the lost baggage room at the airport. I wait in vain for the people who’ve hurt me to reach out, take responsibility for what they’ve done (or didn’t do), and say they are sorry! I’ve waited for years, sometimes even for decades, yet rarely does anyone call, or write me a note of contrition. More often than not I carry this battered old luggage around just weighing me down.

It dawned on me recently that I have a choice about the baggage I’m carrying around; I’m in control. Yesterday morning I finished my morning practice of journaling and meditation, uncovering yet another layer of old wounds, some fancied some real. Yet instead of hoisting these new gripes into a bag and onto my shoulders, I instead closed my eyes, took a deep breath in, exhaled and Let Go. After too many years of feeling weighed down I’m learning that forgiveness is naught but a choice to relinquish the hurt. I can feel the anger, the betrayal, the disappointment, the sadness, the pain and then make a simple decision to either hoard or Let Go. I’m choosing to lighten my load – and lighten my heart – so what will you choose?

Have you noticed that there’s a Gap between Intention and Impact? Often my intention is to be helpful, yet the impact ends up doing the opposite.

I found out last night that one of my best friends was recently diagnosed with cancer. He arrived at my home for dinner looking wan and turned inside out. That’s when he let me know that his doctor had called early yesterday evening to give him the news. His partner was away for the weekend, so I’m glad I could be there for him as he stood in that horrible space between initial diagnosis and prognosis – no one needs to be alone in that space. We both cried, I characteristically more than he, ate a bit, then cried some more.

He let me know that he’d told his daughter – whom I’ve known forever – and I thought about how distraught she must be. So, I called her after he left to go home. My call went straight to voicemail, but as I was leaving a message I noticed she was trying to call me back. I picked up the phone to hysterical cries asking if her dad was ok: “what’s happened, what’s happened? Is he ok?” Unbeknownst to me, my daughter and her dad’s partner had called twice while she was eating, then my call, so she immediately assumed the worst. I let her know everything was ok, that I was just calling to offer support. Needless-to-say, my intention of being supportive fell far from the mark and I felt like shit for having inadvertently caused someone I love additional distress.

I relearned an important lesson last night – to pause prior to leaping into action – to consider the Gap between Intention and Impact. Everything turned out ok – as ok as this horrible situation can be.