A Reason for Resentment

I woke up this morning with some sore muscles, probably from some exercise I got the day before, and thinking about the retreat I had to cancel. I'd been struggling with resentment over an imaginary number of people who felt the retreat was too expensive, repeatedly proving to myself why they were wrong, feeling like I was a victim of their stinginess.

However, I know better. I know at this point in my life that all resentment is illusion - that it always points back to me, to my expectations, to my demand that others act according to my beliefs, to my insistance that the universe please me as I demand. I know full well intellectually that the existence of my resentment has nothing to do with its content.

But as I nursed my sore muscles, wondering what purpose it all served, something came to me. The soreness in my body was a message to me of parts of me that needed attention - a bruise served to let me know that there was a need for my care of my body. The pain did not mean someone was hurting me; it meant I needed to bring my loving attention to the hurting area and take care of it.

Likewise, my resentment has nothing to do with the people I am resenting. Rather, it is a bruise on my soul, a pain that tends to separate me from others - it is a call for me to look at the part of my soul that is hurting, the part that carries expectations, demands of others, the habit of feeling like a victim. It is a call to turn my attention to that part of my soul, and bring lovingkindness to it, so that it can heal.