Hoarding the Light

This morning I'm listening to a Tara Brach podcast episode about seeing the light in each other.  In ourselves.  Practicing not making anyone an "other".  

I don't want to.  I'm not ready.  I have spent so long away from my own internal home, I need to remember the feel of my inner arms, legs, feet.  Look in the mirror hung inside my own tree.  But the generosity required to see the light in others, when for that reason I have abandoned my inner home so often, is not something I can give right now.  Forgiveness.  Compassion.  I just don't have it for those who have benefitted from my homelessness, who took advantage of it to soothe their own wounds.  

I know that those who I am unready to forgive possess the light Tara talks about. But I don't like it.  That somehow we are equal partners in the mystery feels unfair.  

I guess that's where I am here on January 7th.