Allow Me, If You Will, To Talk About Forgiveness
Allow Me, If You Will, To Talk About Forgiveness
Something We Believe We Are Due But Are Less Keen On Offering In Return.
‘Sorry’. So quickly written, so very hard to say — and mean it. ‘I forgive you’. Often not easy at all, or genuinely meant.
We bind ourselves into our lives by all the sorry we don’t say and the forgiveness not given — golden threads of uncertain length, tightening around our ego and strangling our hearts.
Apology.
It begins small. When we are small, it is a learned behaviour. At home at school. Some minor misdemeanour — a broken vase, a damaged toy — from which one of two things may happen.
One is that, in that moment of a senior asking what happened, we do not own up. There is — almost always — anger or frustration showing from the other, and our basic instinct is self-protection. Therefore we remain silent. No responsibility is taken. Somehow, we get away with it that first time. Then another time and another. Not owning up becomes a habit of avoiding possible consequences (known or unknown).
Or, in that same scenario in the early days, we find that someone else gets (or takes) the blame for whatever happened. We start to like having a scapegoat. We begin to look for one and learn to point fingers to avoid the spotlight.
In both cases, it is the ego at work. The first, in fear, the second, arrogance.
Even if we do have positive role models and are encouraged to own up to our responsibility in adverse situations, the ego is a powerful motivator in our psyche. It wants at all times to be on top. Even the most positive and responsible of us does not like to be ‘found out’.
It takes a very balanced and mature person to own up without being found out, to offer appropriate apology, and recompense if it is required.
Forgiveness.
On the flip side of this, as much as we may avoid discovery, when we are the discoverers, how easily do we say, ‘do not fret, apology accepted’?
More significant yet — how many of us can forgive another in the absence of remorse?
Still further — how good are we at forgiving ourselves?
The scale and value of seeking and giving forgiveness are exponential to the nature of the offence. Broken treasures, defaced books, scratched cars, left at the altar. In the end, it is not the material damage that counts. It is the more subtle effects of any situation that cause real problems. When words or betrayals of trust cause the damage, things become yet more complicated. Those golden threads tighten their stranglehold.
When it comes down to it, the material matters not at all. What matters is our ego and how attached we are to whatever occurred. Be we the offended or the offender.
Drowning.
Those golden threads which strangle us are our attachments. Often (frequently!) we place our centre of happiness upon the external, even in affairs of the heart (other people) or mind (study or business). When someone comes along and interferes with that connection we have nurtured, be it accidental or otherwise, we feel hurt, jealous, angry. “How could they??!!!”
We, then, might say things out of turn. Things get distorted and blown out of proportion. The longer a person leaves saying sorry, the harder it becomes to offer that apology. The longer a person harbours the lozenge of infliction perpetrated, the deeper the wound and the less able they are to find that kernel of kindness which can relieve all from the pain.
Both parties then become guilty of drowning themselves in their recalcitrance.
Waving.
When swimming in the surf, should one need assistance due to being caught in rough currents, then the hand goes up to draw attention from the shore. There is always someone stronger (or with a boat) who can come and help us back to sure ground, to stand firm again. What a relief that is!
Equally, if we have not found the strength to ask or give forgiveness, it is possible to reach out to others for help.
Whether we fund the strength ourselves or invite that kind of mediation, forgiveness — sought and given — is the only real salve to the ego damage that required it in the first place. To ask for, or to offer, forgiveness requires most of all that we overcome our ego and let the attachments go, which tied us to the situation.
It is only in this surrendering of the little self, without condition, that we again find our feet on firm ground, relieved from the rip-tide of emotion. We discover that happiness is not in the thing or situation which bound us to it, but in the letting go of it. Only then, can we look at the other and let our compassion rise. If we are the perpetrator of hurt, we will find, almost unbidden, the will to seek forgiveness and feel genuine contrition. If we are the hurt party, we will find, almost unbidden, the will to offer forgiveness — even if it is not sought.
The reward is within the growth of our personality and spirit. The reward is the recognition that taking responsibility or releasing another from it, frees ourselves first and foremost.
In that moment of recognition, what we feel and call ‘relief’ is the burgeoning of Kindness, Love with the capital ‘ell’… and true contentment.
Aunty this is absolutely one of my most favorite post to date. Thank you for the time and thought it took to put it on paper.
ReplyDeleteIn all my years I have been amazed at the number of folks who find it very hard to say I'm sorry, admit they were wrong...I guess they think it makes them feel/look vulnerable. Yes it is a learned skilled.
Hugs HiC
I find it easier to forgive but harder to forget and easier to admit I am wrong, and when I do I almost always feel like the person I admitted I was wrong to doesn't believe me or forgive me. the hardest of all is forgiving myself. I do or say things, because I mean them, but then find the old guilty thing about why did I say or do them. I have never found it hard to admit to things, that is one thing I can do right. much to think about... my sons don't speak to each other, their wives hate each other, they want nothing to do with each other. and have been that way most of their lives. I do not GET it. also my hubby does not know the word forgive, he will hold a grudge til the day he dies
ReplyDeleteHari Om
DeleteIt is disheartening when families feud - or put on the 'freeze' - like this. It takes a lot of emotional energy to have that much dislike and distrust... YAM xx
Forgiveness ~ key to 'being free' ~ may all being become free ~ ^_^
ReplyDeleteHappy Day to You,
A ShutterBug Explores,
aka (A Creative Harbor)
Excellent food for thought on Remembrance Sunday.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written.
ReplyDeleteLetting go of the emotion attached to the "wrong doings" is probably harder because feelings are strongly remembered. Intellectually, we might be able to work through to forgiveness. Letting go of the hurt takes more work. Sometimes I believe I have forgiven myself or my "transgressor", but some occurrence may trigger a memory and the hurt feeling bubbles back up. Very tricky waters to navigate for sure.
ReplyDeleteOne thing I will say, when I have let go of the anger, and truly said and felt that "I'm sorry I hurt you", the load of my burden was euphorically lightened.
Hari OmThank you for taking the time to read today, Lynda. Yes, our ego-selves are very adept at 'holding on' to things and we often do not realise the 'time bombs' we are setting ourselves if we do not fully resolve and absolve! Good, too, that you recognise there is the intellectual element. I shall be taking this subject for upcoming posts. (In case you had missed it, have started looking at this from the aspect of Advaita Vedanta over a few Sundays - it may interest you. I know you have other stuff to distract you just now...) sending Love-vibes. Yxx
DeleteThere has been a lot of research on forgiveness, as well as anecdotal evidence.
ReplyDeleteI saw someone on a talk show, John Dorenbos, who spoke of this. His father murdered his mother. He met him after 37 years. He's written a book about it, and I think I might read it. He is very articulate about the whole situation.
There are still a couple of folks I am working to forgive. The rapist is the hardest. namaste, janice xx
ReplyDelete