Aleph

Very rarely I could complete a Paulo Coelho's book (no offense, Mr. Coelho. It's just me), this book, Aleph, too. From Lincoln, the book tagged along to Manchester, flew to Dublin, did a round trip of Dublin-Connemara-Galway-Killarney-Cork-Kilkenny-Rosslare Harbour, sailed back with me to Pembroke Dock, headed south via train to Southampton, to Basingstoke, got onto the flight back to Malaysia. I read only one-eighth of the book and decided to give it a break. The "not my cup of tea" motion indeed.

God usually prompts me in His own mysterious methods. After a good cuppa macchiato, knowing I wouldn't be sleeping till the break of dawn, I went through my night owling routines: watched a YouTube video of a Korean entertainment show, wrote an entry on my private blog and cried buckets due to the grieving process of certain issue, and felt the need to read a book. I dived into the box of my novels and dug out a book I read some years ago.

Apparently that's not the book I ended up reading. Out of no where I recalled I brought this book back and it's still in the paper bag in the big luggage bag, so off I went to pick up the book and started from where I left. Surprisingly, tonight the genre suited me and I chewed on the gist of the book rather easily.

This part of the book is what God has in mind for me, perhaps to aid in my grieving and healing processes. A prayer...

'I forgive the tears I was made to shed,
I forgive the pain and the disappointments,
I forgive the betrayal and the lies,
I forgive the slanders and intrigues,
I forgive the hatred and the persecution,
I forgive the blows that hurt me,
I forgive the wrecked dreams,
I forgive the still-born hopes,
I forgive the hostility and jealousy,
I forgive the indifference and ill will,
I forgive the injustice carried out in the name of justice,
I forgive the anger and the cruelty,
I forgive the neglect and the contempt,
I forgive the world and all its evils,
I also forgive myself.

May the misfortunes of the past no longer weigh on my heart.
Instead of pain and resentment, I choose understanding and compassion.
Instead of rebellion, I choose music from my violin.

Instead of grief, I choose forgetting.
Instead of vengeance, I choose victory.
I will be capable of loving regardless of whether I am loved in return,
Of giving even when I have nothing,
Of working happily even in the midst of difficulties,
Of holding out my hand even when utterly alone and abandoned,
Of drying my tears even while I weep,
Of believing even when no one believes in me.

So it is. So it will be.'

(Quoted from Aleph, Paulo Coelho, pgs. 169-170)