I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to become menopause.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, not see/realize/understand that I am not a picture/character in a story but that I am my very beingness and physicality, which has value as life, here on earth and not reliant upon some made up character of ego and memories.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, not see/realize/understand how I had over my lifetime, moment by moment, accepted and allowed myself to experience time passing and to relate/connect this to age/aging and to therefore create this character and to relate to it in such a personal way, that I have integrated it into my very physical human body/become this very manifestation as a character of middle aged/menopausal woman; complaining/suffering/sweating/whipping off clothes/fanning, that I used to dislike in other women (and criticize them/judge them as exaggerating, in my secret mind) and promise myself to never ‘be like them’.
In that, I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, not see/realize/understand that the ‘sins of the father’ are always passed down if we allow participation in the mind/mind consciousness systems design of polarities, firstly, within my own mind and physical body and then without, into the world at large of: young/old, birth/death, healthy/sick, new/used, etc.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, believe in the inevitABILITY of aging and put myself in such a compromising /victim/helpless position , not seeing/realizing or understanding how as I accepted and allowed myself to relate to and fear/think I was powerless over time passing, I did not question these milestones/passages of time but agreed to believe I am age, as in now 30/35/40/45/50.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, think 30 meant adulthood, as a passage of time in the story of Sandy, she is no longer a child/young woman but an adult and this meant certain things-directed by time-and not by me as who I am here; marriage and buying a home and working at a career. I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, think 35 was half way to 40 and that time is going by fast and that drinking helped me ‘ignore’ this reality as I had failed anyway. I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, think I did not deserve another chance because I had fucked up badly (divorce/going crazy/alcoholic) and ‘I can just pass the time getting drunk, when the kids aren’t here, because I’m still quite young and have nothing but time and it does not matter, no one knows/cares’.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, not see/realize/understand my participation in my mind (the extent of that acceptance and allowance) by thinking 40 meant more grey hair and few lines on my face, the less likelihood of living ‘my dream’ of a happy family with a husband and home and financial security but, ‘Oh well, I have my fantasy of being a songwriter, doesn’t matter what age I am for that and booze keeps me company and occupied, my kids love me and that is enough.’
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, think 45 meant, ‘Uh oh, I am getting near 50 and that is getting old and I have not accomplished anything/acquired much as in financial assets, as in ‘who I am’ which means my life has no meaning/purpose/I won’t be remembered as a good person/ no one will be at my funeral/my tombstone will read ‘Sandy Who?’ but at least I have a nice boyfriend and people like me in AA (alcoholics anonymous) and my kids still love me and my ‘higher power’ loves me and I still look pretty young.’
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, not see realize/understand that in accepting and allowing myself to agree to the construct of aging, I was agreeing to participate, in this lifetime, to adding to the already extensive abuse existent in the world, as in the current money system based on greed and self-interest, and not here as life at all but here only as the passed on memories from my and others many past lives, not free to express myself as life in equality but in a self imposed prison whereby I make my flesh prisoner to time and let it decay/suffer/deplete until it/I dies, through consuming energy, created by my own participation in thoughts/feelings/emotion/opinions/pictures in my mind/memories.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, not see/realize/understand the process of aging I saw my father endure and now my mother, of slowly, helplessly, giving in to time and having the body fail due to old age, is abuse to/of the physical substance here as life, one and equal to all in existence and is the very CON of CONsciousness!
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, not see/realize/understand that it is not ‘normal’ to see, at age 50, the following changes in my physicality: flabby skin on my forearms (and to connect this to a picture in my mind of my mothers forearms), sagging skin on my thighs and knees (and to connect this to a picture in my mind of my mother’s thighs and knees), little red dots on my stomach and chest, more grey hair on my head, more hair growing on my face and chin, my teeth yellowing, gaining weight and relating to other middle aged women who are no longer slim but ‘filled out’ in their backs/stomachs/hips/butt/thighs.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, not see/realize/understand I am participating in a system/pattern of aging, through the linear passing of moments, which dictates to me, as I am now 50 years old, I/all women no longer get a regular period but it comes less and less often, then stops completely, and as this happens, I no longer produce certain growth/strength hormones so my body starts to break down/age and this is supposedly ok because I am no longer of ‘child bearing years’ so expendable/no longer useful for child production.
In this, I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, let myself/all women suffer horrid sweating (one of the symptoms) as the body’s internal temperature control systems are all screwed up, and so wake up continuously through the night for 2-3 years, so be exhausted/have difficulty being productive during the day and then scare the shit out of me/women who require assistance to take a hormone replacement, that they will have increased risk of breast cancer and blood clotting leading to stroke.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, not see/realize/understand that friends/acquaintances telling me about their (and others) ailments/illnesses is a ‘sign of the times’ as we are in our 50’s now and certain people will get cancer and die, as if life is a lottery some as lucky/some unlucky, some win/ some loose and that this is ok/tolerable/just the way it is.
In that,I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, know it is annoying to others if I share my belief that disease is unacceptable so I should remain quiet and say what my character would say, the supposed polite, ‘Oh that ‘s terrible, I am sorry to hear that’, when I know life is not/should not be a lottery that, if you loose, is expendable/disposable but the most valuable thing in existence.
In that I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, not trust myself to question/investigate what is here, on earth, as I, most often throughout my life, thought the design of birth and death was pointless and reincarnation pointless (since we do not remember anything from the last life, lol) and it should not be such a ‘mystery’ I did not respect the mystery, it pissed me off.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, submit/abdicate my responsibility as life here, to such a cruel design of the depletion of the physical body, over time, because I was helpless to do anything else and to investigate was useless , as others aghast would tell me ‘Who the hell do you think you to suggest the design is wrong/changeable, what a joke, when all the doctors and scientists throughout time, cannot do anything about it (aging/disease) so shut up, you are ridiculous.’ and so to turn to spirituality as my only option to give me some kind of peace, as life was a path to death and before death could be much suffering/agony.
In that , I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself, as menopause, to not see/realize/understand the age of the person whether it be 1 year old or 100 years old, death and suffering is just as tragic, as we are all one and equal here as life, and none of us are a picture or a character in a story unless we consent to be so, through not remaining here as the flesh, but continued/constant participation in the mind.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to judge myself as this character, middle-aged woman in menopause, as less than/suffering/helpless/depleting on her way to death.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to, as menopause, not see/realize/understand that I am only striving/fighting, in self-interested ways, to beat time as in not get disease and die ‘prematurely’ and gather enough money/resources to survive in comfort for me and my love ones/family, to ….what….where? the inevitable depletion/the less and less of me unto I cannot move or do anything and then I die/cease to exist ===this is the big prize/win !?
Solution to follow: Commitment Statements