I'm Maggie Smith, and this is the slowdown.

I have plenty of faults, but holding grudges isn't one of them.

Even when someone hurts me deeply, once I'm past the sting and shock, I can find it in my

heart to forgive them.

That doesn't mean I excuse their behavior, and it doesn't mean

I allow them continued access to me and keep them in my life. But I can let go and move on without

malice. The way I see it, we are all only human. We hurt one another, often completely unintentionally.

We do our best, but we still mess up sometimes. I mess up. And while I'm pretty quick to forgive

someone else who's hurt me, I'm slow to forgive myself when I hurt someone else.

I think self-compassion is the most challenging kind of compassion.

We are so hard on ourselves, aren't we?

We humans carry around so much guilt and shame. We ruminate about breakups and arguments. We think about the things we said in anger that we wish we could

take back. We think about the things we didn't say we wish we could take back.

We think about the things we didn't say and wish we had.

We replay the past despite being unable to change it.

The speaker of today's poem confesses something,

and in doing so with self-compassion and self-forgiveness,

sets it down.

What I Wanted to Keep Private by Melissa Crowe.

I wanted you last night when I woke, my body vibrating like train shook ground,

and might have let out the train slow scream, the kind that quickens as the beast draws near.

But I wanted to keep private that desire and that fear.

...