Forgive or be stoopid

Forgiveness is important.

We all want it when we have done something wrong. But, I have observed, that it is not so easy for some people to give forgiveness to others. This fact was brought home to me by my child.

We were talking about an incident where an accident had happened and someone we know was badly hurt. This, of course, made everyone sad.

“Whose fault was it?” asked M.

“It was an accident,” I replied, “but the person in charge of the event was a friend of Adam’s.”

“Are they still friends?” came the immediate inquiry.

I laughed. “Yes, they are.” Then I paused as I thought about when the accident had happened. 

“Interestingly,” I continued, “Now Adam’s family really can’t stand Zak and blame it all on him. While Zak and Adam have just got on with their friendship. I do think Adam was upset at first but he got over it quickly because it was, after all, an accident.”

“Why don’t the others get over it as well then?”

“Well, they can’t forgive Zak for hurting Adam you see.”

“Why?”

“Because they love Adam and Zak was the cause of all his injuries.”

“But he didn’t do it on purpose, did he?”

“No. It was an accident.”

“I think they’re stupid.”

“Why?”

“Well, it’s not nice not to forgive people. If Adam had caused the accident then they’d be on bended knee asking Zak’s family for forgiveness for him, wouldn’t they?”

“I guess so.”

“Well then, if they don’t forgive Zak for what he did then they’re just as bad as if they caused the accident themselves. They’re just causing more pain. They’re stoopid.”

I just nodded.

Then M added, after more thought, “Just because you forgive doesn’t mean you have to forget, does it?”

“No, of course not. It just means you don’t have any negative feelings or anger associated with the thoughts. You have to leave the bitterness behind and move on. You know, learning from the situation, but not letting it continue to hurt you. When you don’t forgive, I mean when you keep the anger inside you, it’s like tasting the most horrible thing and keeping it in your mouth instead of letting it go. You have to spit bitterness out, you know.”

“Are they really still angry with Adam’s friend even when he’s not?”

“I hope not, but I don’t know.”

“I think that’s really stoopid.”

Balloons and hammers

I am happy.

People may say that it’s easy to talk about forgiveness when you have had a happy life and an idyllic childhood. That may be true. I have had happiness in my life and parts of my childhood were idyllic. But not all of it.

And it’s the bits that were far from beautiful that I am thinking about when I talk about forgiveness. I have been hurt – intentionally, and it is not pleasant. But it has passed and is now in my past. I have to forgive.

In certain instances I have also had to confront the issues and people head on before I could forgive and move on. What works for me may not always work for you.

However, one thing that I do know is that when you forgive and let go you are lighter. The animosity that lines your life is stripped away like steaming layers of old bumpy wallpaper off to reveal clear smooth walls. Forgiveness is a gift to self because it is cleansing. Some people may never know that you have forgiven them; if this is your choice then it is enough for you to know and feel the weight dropping off. I have also chosen to forgive and keep silent about it. Both ways have worked well for me.

To me forgiveness is like throwing the sandbags over the edge of a gas-fired hot air balloon and being free to soar to new heights. The things that once weighed me down I have thrown them overboard from my life so that I can gain new heights. When things in my life were bumpy it took me some time to see that to move to the next level I needed to let go – I was being pulled across rocks and rough ground because I held on to the hurt. I felt it was deep hurt that I could never let go – but I could and now I have.

In athletic competition a hammer thrower will step into the throwing circle and using all their strength they will manoeuvre the hammer around and around their body until they get to the point where it is no longer sensible to hold on – they just have to let go. With a final twist and lift they shift the weight, contorting the body until the pressure has reached it maximum point, then they will wind it through that final movement before they exhale and release the hammer into the sky.

Bend, lift, and twist.

Release.

At the moment of release all the effort of holding on is transferred into the hammer and with gusto it flies away, over the shoulder, into the distance. Arms are outstretched, toes are pointed. All the bending and twisting of holding on to the hammer has finished. Often the moment of release is accompanied by a shout of accomplishment: the goal in that intense moment has been achieved. Forgiveness is a hammer thrown into the depths of oblivion - into the past; forgiveness, like the hammer thrower’s effort, is a job well done.

Then the thrower walks out of the circle the opposite way from the thrown hammer. I too walk away from the pain that I have discarded when I threw it skywards with forgiveness.

Forgiveness

A man struggled heavily down the street. The people of the town who watched him knew well of his bitterness, he didn’t make a secret of it. The man had been hurt – badly. His heart had been broken and his spirit destroyed by people he loved. It had happened many times. He dragged another heavy step towards the far end of the street. His tattered clothes spoke of his daily battle with his pain. The roads were filled with ruts from the repeated journeys.

One day a stranger came through the town and joined the group of people as they stood watching the man labour wearily from one end of the town to the other. The stranger saw familiar looks on the other people’s face although this town was new to him. Being a curious man by nature he turned to the woman nearest to him and enquired about the sad man’s story.

“Oh,” she replied, “he was hurt so many times in the past. Poor man; he just can’t get past those times. The memories are always with him.”

“Has he ever tried to let go?” the stranger asked gently, because he didn’t want to upset the routine of the town with a loud voice.

“Let go?” queried the woman, who by now had turned to look into the face of this peculiar visitor with the smooth voice. “How can we ever let go of what hurt us? We have to remember the pain – it’s made us who we are.”

It was at this point that the visitor looked around the woman and saw why she was standing there, she had a similar load to the man walking up the street, it was on the ground beside her. All the people watching had the same type of weight attached to them. They were not stood there watching, they were all waiting for their turn to take their fight with their memories into public.

The woman shook her head at the stranger and shuffled nearer to the kerb as someone else stepped off and followed the first man into the road.

“Excuse me,” said the newcomer to a younger woman who was sat on the ground near to him. She looked wistfully into the distance.

When she heard his voice she turned her head slowly and held his gaze for a second before looking down at his feet.

“Can I offer you these,” he said, handing her a pair of scissors.

“What’re they for?” She squinted up at him.

“Oh, they’re forgiveness scissors,” he smiled as she frowned up at him.

“So, what do they do then?” Her curiosity was raised.

Reaching out she cautiously took them. A sudden spark of light hit her eyes as she weighed them in her hands.

“They don’t look like much. Do they work?”

“Yes, they really do. I give them out all the time. Try them...”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

He watched her as she grasped the thick heavy cord to her side and let the blades slip through them like a hot knife through butter.

The laughter that rose from her throat made the other people in the town look and stare. That was a strange sound – the sound of happiness. They had forgotten what it was like or what it was for.

The young woman grabbed for more scissors and passed them to the people gathering around her.

“Forgiveness scissors really work,” she bubbled, “I’ve cut my load and now... look at me!” She even skipped a few steps to prove her point.

Curious eyes turned to the young man as the group surrounded him.

An old man with a full head of white hair spoke to him from the back of the crowd.

“If we use these,” his voice was tired and cracked as he slowly measured his words out, “does it mean we never remember anything?”

“Oh no,” assured the stranger, who had now emptied his bag of scissors to the eagerly outstretched hands, “you remember but ... you don’t have to be attached to the weight of your pain any more. These scissors let you leave that behind. You can let it go.”

“Does it really work?” someone else whispered in a desperate voice.

“It sure does,” he beamed. “I did it myself a while ago and now I walk anywhere because I don’t carry that load with me anymore.” In a quieter voice he added, “I did it for me really, I needed to forgive myself for holding on for too long. My pain was heavy.” He paused for a few seconds as he wiped a lone tear away from his cheek, “I feel so much better now. I no longer fight with it every day ... I still remember, but in a lighter way.”

Trees and friendship

One day, in the very recent past, I had arranged to meet my friend. We hadn’t seen each other for a long time and although we had been in touch through the magic of text messages and emails, it wasn’t quite the same as being in the same space at the same time.

The morning arrived and I planned my activities so that I could get there at the agreed time. When I next looked at the clock I realised that I would be late, again. I hurriedly finished the task in hand and rushed to get ready. While I was doing this I realised that I should have been driving into the car park where we’d agreed to meet. Instead I was running around the house throwing a few essential things into a bag.

I was late, so I called to say that I would be there soon.

My friend said that she had just arrived herself, but would wander around for a bit while she waited for me. I felt bad to have left her waiting.

When I eventually arrived, nearly quarter of an hour late, she greeted me with her brilliant smile and I knew I was forgiven.

As we walked and talked together I realised that to me our friendship is like being on my own with my thoughts when I am having a good day. With her I can just think, act, speak and do as I please without any fear of censure. She gives me the joy of peace and makes me feel safe.

The time together passed so quickly and smoothly.

It was a beautiful morning walk and it is the most beautiful friendship.

I celebrate my friends.

They are like this tree that I saw on our walk that day.

Friends grow in all directions. They change as they mature. They alter with the seasons of their lives as they are adapting to their situations. However, they are always present in some way in my life. Trees may grow bigger, stronger, taller, and sometimes weaker. They come in all shapes and sizes and they blossom at different times but they are all beautiful. The friends that I have been blessed with are firmly rooted in my life. Like the root system of most trees our contact is very wide and it extends a long way. However, just because we all may have big trees in our lives doesn’t mean that we have no more space for new trees. There is always room for more saplings to join the orchard of friendship.

I am glad that I have such great tree friends in my life.

Living the difference …

Living the difference …
Between theory and practice.

How many times have you both said and heard the phrase ‘Don’t make promises you can’t keep’?

Wise advice I think.

But what happens when you break a promise? How do you deal with the fallout of emotions from that? The guilt… the disappointment … the broken dreams …

I broke a promise recently, I’m usually faultless at keeping promises, and this one hurt a lot.
I broke a promise I made to myself. And then, now, I am paying for it, well, dealing with the after effects of the breach.

I felt like I let myself down, my last trustworthy porthole. Now what? If I can’t trust myself, who can I trust?

Sometimes, I have now found out, that we are harder on ourselves that we are on others. But I’ve come to the conclusion that it ’s ok to make a mistake. And more that that, it’s ok, and fair, to forgive yourself for that mistake.

I had no intention of breaking the promise to myself when I made it. That is the most important fact that I have to remember. The situation in which I had made the promise had changed and I made the best decision possible in the circumstances, and that meant a broken promise. So although I at first thought I had done a wrong thing I had in fact done the best thing for myself. So the guilt, the anger, the disappointment could all go without worry. Then I moved on to the next step.

Forgiveness.
I have forgiven myself because forgiveness means freedom.
Freedom from the guilt, from the disappointment, from the fear.

For years I have said the same to other people, that they need to give themselves a chance and not be so hard on themselves, but I am now starting to live the difference between theory and practice. I have applied the healing salve of forgiveness to myself and I feel better already.

I have the power to forgive myself, and I have freely done so.