One of the works that I liked to do was to help the Old Man, as we affectionately called the oldest monk of the Order, to take care of the monastery garden. I learned that everything in the world reacts according to the exact measure of our feelings, in an incessant exchange. With plants it is no different. In addition, he talked to the monk and listened to his conversations with other people. It was all learning. On that day, I remember well, the cold was not very intense, the sky was blue and the heat of the sun provided a nice warmth to the body, when the monk was surprised by the visit of a niece. The girl, in her early twenties, was agitated; he could not align his ideas and feelings. The reason was the relationship with his father. From the cradle the young woman lived only with her mother, who soon married and had another child. She always had a good time at home with her brother and her mother's husband. The father, despite the great differences with the mother, never stopped looking for the daughter, although not in the way the girl wanted. In recent times the father's attempts to be more present were so uncomfortable that he could not explain, even if he did not admit it, which demonstrated a dark sentimental gap that needed to be colored. She generally did not react well to those paternal advances.
Sitting on a stone bench, the young woman recited a rosary of past situations in which she pointed out the father's absence and in which she considered that he should have been a protagonist. His presence, now more intense, made her feel somehow uncomfortable. The Old Man listened with great patience until he exhausted all criticism. Then he said tenderly, "There is a sea of resentments and you seem to drown in it. Surviving in the waters of resentment is only possible with the lifeline of forgiveness; to forgive is to respect the right of the other to have the same infinite opportunities that you had or have. " He looked at the niece in the eye and asked, "Where would you be if every chance you had was not allowed to renew your chances?" Without waiting for a reply, he added: "Only self-knowledge bestows the blessings of tolerance with all people, fundamental step for peace ".
The young woman said that the lack of affection was linked to the memory of many disappointments. In that sense he counted weekends when he did not appear or at school parties in which he was not present. The monk looked at her with sweet compassion and said: "It is very comfortable to choose someone to be responsible for all our sorrows and frustrations. This excuses us of the transformative effort to always offer the best. Avoid the work of understanding the other, learn about us and seek different solutions that bring harmony and balance in the coexistence. Thus, the alleged victim always clamors for changes in the behavior of others and forgets that life does not match with stagnation or regrets. He refuses to understand his part. Suffering will always be at the service of a wrong view of all things. "
The niece became irritated with the Old Man, gave herself a breast stroke and questioned him asking if he did not believe in her memories, in the situations she had lived, in all that she suffered. He took her hand tenderly and said, "I am absolutely convinced that all your stories are real. I perceive your pain, but I know how memory is contaminated by the environment in which we live, is altered by the level of consciousness that we achieve and, mainly, is mixed with the emotional baggage we carry. This package has the power to cloud the best truth. As long as you believe that every absence of your father has become an affective debt that can never be paid given your need to see him as eternal debtor, you will not know the liberating force of forgiveness, you will not experience all the good that dwells in both, you will not allow yourself the honey of life. "
Annoyed, the girl again recounted the waits in vain, the walks that never happened, the hugs she wanted and did not exist, the kisses that dissolved in the air. He asked the uncle if he despised his feelings and everything he had lived. The monk held his composure in his tone: "Of course not, my dear. I hardly perceive your insistence on loading a useless accounting book, in which you account for your penalties, or the alleged errors of your father. As long as you maintain the same behavior, there will be no progress. It is essential to remove the heavy and dark clothes from memory and lend a softer and more colorful that allows greater ease in your next steps. Another vision is needed. Remember the school events he attended and sat in a corner without any attention, playing the role of extra; the weekends that were canceled because you had a more interesting program with your friends or you claimed to be cooled; of the encounters in which you behaved in a way so reactive that they became boring, hindering any manifestation of affection. "
"I remember meeting him once after a birthday party and asked him why he was absent. He confessed, with wet eyes, not to be invited, "he paused and concluded:" If on one hand he was not the best father he could have been, on the other, he was the best father he was allowed to be ". The niece lowered her eyes, the Old Man stroked her face and continued sweetly: "There is no perfection on either side. Your mother is my sister, I know she is a sweet creature and raised you with great love, but I also know of her suffering with your father, the jealousy of the husband. He understands that the atmosphere was hostile for a girl to develop the best image of the father, but without any frontal accusation. Your affective memory of the paternal relationship became contaminated. Errors of your father? There were many, however it was not an exclusive privilege. Everyone stumbled. All had motives and justifications. To understand this is to understand the greater meaning of the valuable lesson of offering the other side, by allowing yourself to see through the other's optics. This does not necessarily mean giving it the right and respecting the other's sacred reasons. "
They remained silent for some time until the young woman said she was willing to give the father a second chance. "Speaking of a second chance, you are already on a different level from him, in a superior position, maintaining the abyss that always separated them. Why talk about second chance? Did he have a first? You separated early on and the coexistence suffered many undue interference. The coexistence between father and daughter never had the necessary peace to flourish. It tries to silence the voice of the world, the one that always points out the defects of all; listens in silence what the heart whispers to indicate the beauty existing in each one of us. It is necessary to consolidate emotional fractures; decontaminate the past. Only in this way will the lightness necessary to continue in the Way possible. " He paused and concluded: "We commonly imagine that our speech defines us; just silly Many believe that our actions have the authority to speak for us; pure truth. However, nothing reveals the essence of the soul better than the way we react to each movement of the other; this is the perfect mirror. All coexistence brings hidden masters. Thanks for all of them.
The monk hugged the niece and said: "Despite all the misunderstandings and thorns, never forget the most important thing: your father never left you. During all these years he endeavored, within the limits of his own ability, to be at your side. If you look beyond the resentments and disappointments, you will find the love that your father always wanted to offer without being able to deliver. The difficulty in accepting your father's love may be in the fear of collapsing the image you had of him and of yourself and accepting that everything you have lived so far has been a mistake or a farce. Giving up the comfortable yet paralyzing role of victim is not always easy. He will take the opportunity to write a new story, in which there is room for happiness. Denying an opportunity to love is the biggest mistake. "
The young woman, with a tear escaping her eyes, said that a good sensation was invading her body and that she would seek the father that very day to obtain the lost hugs. He kissed the guy on the cheek and almost jumped off, as if he were a child discovering that the world can be a good place. Alone with the Old Man, I asked him who he thought was right in that mess. He looked at me with pity who has to explain the obvious and said, "This is what matters least. For every fact there are at least two versions beyond the truth. " He paused and concluded: "The magic of life is in the encounters. There you reveal, surpass and deliver the best of you. Only then, lighter for having taken so much weight off your back, you are able to move forward. "