Capes, Princess Dresses, and Forgiveness

In my poetry class a couple of weeks ago, my professor was saying that even though our purpose in class was to dissect and understand the forms and functions of poetry, there were some elements of it that one simply could not explain. In poetry, she went on to say, there are certain things that just “get you.” As soon as she said it, I knew exactly what she was talking about and also knew that she was correct. This is true not just in poetry, but in all art. One can analyze and reflect and critique something for days, but sometimes there is a line or a scene or a melody that just gets you.

For this class, each student has to select a poem and work on it for something called a poetry packet. When I turn my packet in, it will contain my thoughts on the poem’s meter, syntax, symbols, etc. The poem I chose to work with is Margaret Atwood’s “Up.” I chose it because it got me. The speaker of the poem is talking to someone who is battling some serious emotional struggles. In the last stanza, the speaker challenges whoever they are speaking to to really look at the situation and see who needs to be forgiven. It struck me immediately that the person needing to be forgiven was the person the poem was about. (If this paragraph is making a bit of sense that will be a miracle.) I think that sometimes in order for people to be truly happy and be the people they were intended to be they have to learn how to forgive themselves.

 

I read a blog entry tonight that got me. The writer was talking about how much things change from childhood to adulthood. He wrote about how as a little boy, he had a cape. Or, rather, he had a towel that was transformed into a cape. And with his cape on, he felt as if he could and should save the world. There eventually came a point where he realized that capes were for kids; being a hero was just pretend.

He goes on to say this:

“Life is full of seasons, and in many ways I have felt some hopelessness in the past few months. I would be dishonest if I said that I lived in complete hope, but of course I do not. I have fears about family, relationships, career, love, justice, and countless other things. I worry about ideas involving marriage and divorce. I have fears of abandonment, and so I am overly cautious when I am entering into friendships and especially romantic relationships. It is rare that I do not worry, and lately it is rare that I hope.

And so I’ve been wondering what it looks like to put my cape back on.”

And that’s where he got me. I understand that feeling completely because I’ve been there too lately. I am a chronic worrier. I over-plan things. I show up to class and work twenty minutes early. I make lists. I love a good itinerary. I triple check things. I have been realizing more and more lately that I can’t triple check life. I can’t make a nice and neat itinerary. I can and should have plans, but with the knowledge that they are fickle and bound to change at any moment.

One of the comments to the blog entry I quoted above mentioned princess dresses. I am perhaps the most girly person I know. I am like those prissy girls in movies, that girl who shrieks at the sight of an insect and squirms at the thought of sweat. I love a good princess dress but lately I haven’t been wearing mine.

Since I’m a hard-core planner, my head has been swimming with thoughts and fears. I am trying to figure out what I want to do with my overly-priced degree. I am trying to figure out what I am capable of doing. I am trying to get myself in shape as the ever-so-popular independent woman. And the more in shape I get, the more my hope gets crushed.

Instead of the fairy-tale ending my heart once aspired to, I see myself living a life that is not full of beauty and adventure, but deadlines and checklists.

I am not naïve enough to believe that my life (or any life) will actually turn out with a “happily ever after.” I don’t expect a life free of hardships. I don’t expect a fairy godmother showing up just in the nick of time.

But the more I try to push away those desires, the more I try to push the princess dress back into the closet, the more I lose myself. The more I lose my hope. The more I lose my heart.

So what would it look like to put the princess dress back on? I think it would involve trusting people more. It would involve me admitting that I can’t handle everything on my own. It would involve me realizing that community is essential and something that I can’t give up on. It would involve me taking risks and making choices that were not on the checklist.

I have to wonder why I took off the dress in the first place. I have to wonder what has caused most of the women I know to take of their dresses, too, and the boys their capes. Again I think back to the poem I mentioned previously, the Atwood poem that also got me. I think that forgiveness plays a big role in all of this.  

Compared to forgiving myself, forgiving other people is quite an easy task. Forgiveness is not simply a decision, but a series of grace-filled responses. I rarely treat myself with grace. I rarely release the things I am not proud of. I rarely stop, reflect, and deal with all of the things I would much rather hide than parade. Such avoidance causes guilt. Women especially are good at feeling guilty, I think. We want to please. I want to please. And when I don’t, the guilt creeps up. And instead of letting it go, I punish myself. I won’t allow myself to dream. I won’t allow myself the daring task of hoping. I won’t allow myself to put on the princess dress and simply be. Part of the charm of little kids is how they are totally and completely themselves. They say whatever comes to mind. They dance on coffee tables and “fly” off of trees. How often do I allow myself the privilege of just being, of being quiet and taking notice of grace and how it applies to me? How often do I forgive myself for my selfishness, vanity, pride, and envy? Not often enough.

I think that forgiveness and freedom are a lot alike. Without forgiveness, whether it is internal or external, one can never truly be free. I read a quote the other day that I loved and saved:

“Freedom is nothing else but a chance to be better.” –Albert Camus

And so it is time to forgive myself for all of the junk I have allowed inside my heart. It is time to allow myself to be forgiven by the very One who made me. It is time to try on the princess dress again and see how it fits. May it be a reminder that life is meant to be enjoyed and treasured. May it be a reminder that I was beautifully made. May it be a reminder that checklists and itineraries only get you so far. And may it be a reminder that hope is not a childish fantasy, but something to be grasped as tightly as possible.

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