A Letter of Divine Compassion
What do I ask of you, my love?
I ask for you to have imperfect courage. Let it be messy and raw, unscripted, and unexpected. Let it be from the deepest parts of you. Let it be of your sacred self.
Observe your life with a detached air. Recognize spaces where lessons emerge—pause—and with imperfect courage ask yourself, what is the lesson I am here to learn?
Listen to your internal dialog. Do you hear blaming words, words that deflect responsibility? Words that deny or distract? Why are you deflecting your energy outward? Don’t be afraid to look within. Allow light and wisdom to shine upon you—not a person, place or situation. It only separates you from the truth. Only you can embody the lessons your soul seeks.
See it with purity of heart. Accept it, without judgement. It is not bad or good. It just is. Simple and clean. Notice any discomfort. It’s okay. It will pass. There is an impermanence in change, a continuum of energy in flux, we are a part of the mystery of life. With fierce love, I sit beside you—feel me—I am here.
With each sip of air, grace fills you. Let go of the blame you carry. The rage. The dissatisfaction. Your anger may not be for “them” after all—maybe it’s for you.
The many ways you have abandoned or mistreated yourself, you are not these missteps. The paths taken, the trespasses made, are long gone. It is not what you did or didn’t do, it is what you learned within the space of it.
Imperfect courage is jumping without a net. Trusting in the freefall, that you are tethered to something bigger than the risk, bigger than yourselves. Gentle hands wash you in waves of golden light, a reminder of the untapped capacity divinity holds to restore all that is broken.
Practice the art of radical forgiveness, imperfect courage, and unconditional love. Forgive yourself and others around you. Forgive and be healed. You are the one you have been waiting for. Be daring and examine your light and dark, within the contrast.
Nicole Hendrick Donovan, 2019