To understand somebody else as a human being, I think, is about as close to real forgiveness as one can get. David Small, American writer
Why would anyone offer the advice to not forgive too soon? Especially Christians and therapists…how could they say that (as the authors of the book, Don’t Forgive Too Soon)? OR why would we even want to forgive someone who has hurt us? Wait a minute. What do we even mean when we say that we forgive someone?
Those are a few of the questions we have been working with together in our weekly compassion circle. As it turns out, it’s a topic that has kept us going for several weeks already. And I’ve shared some of my own struggles with forgiveness.
Most of us know by now a lot of the research findings and practical tips being offered by people like Everett Worthington, Fred Luskin, Robert Enright, and Michael McCullough. We know much of what our wisdom and spiritual teachers like the Dalai Lama, Jesus, Mahatma Gandhi, Desmond Tutu, and Nelson Mandela has said, have recommended, and have embodied.
We especially now know what the wisdom teachers have said that forgiveness is good for our relationships and for our own health…most of the time. But I jump ahead.
What do we mean when we say that we forgive someone? What the scholars generally seem to mean is that we give up our “legitimate” and instinctual desire to harm someone who has harmed us. We don’t desire revenge. We don’t wish to even the score.
That can be hard enough. But there’s more. We desire and commit to giving up anger and resentment.
How could we do that if we wanted to? All the scholars I have read insist that we start by recalling and acknowledging the hurt. What? That's right. We can harm our well-being if we deny our feelings. “Ah, no problem. It’s nothing.” Not a good way to go.
If we have a particular religion or spiritual practice, we can ask for help in prayer or imagine a spiritual being listening to us, understanding how we feel (all of it, the grief, the anger, the blame, the resentment, the suffering), desiring the healing of our aching wounds…standing with us, perhaps embracing us…being our advocate. We may send good wishes to ourselves or hear these words coming from the Sacred, “This is a difficult moment. May you be happy, may you be healthy, may you know you are loved.”
The next part is harder. Mustering up empathy for the one who has caused us suffering.
My father fought physically with his own father. When his father died, he kept fighting with him in his dreams, his nightmares. We can direct forgiveness even to one who has died.
My father, who was a minister, was quite resistant to forgiving his father. My mother, who was a psychologist, hated to see him continue to suffer even after his father was dead.
Mom knew better than to spout Christian platitudes without thinking. She knew the work was around being able to stand in the shoes of a man who beat his eight children. How could one do that? It seemed impossible.
Empathy involves understanding why people might have behaved the way they did, but it doesn’t mean that you accept their actions. As we attempt to have empathy, we might consider their circumstances or motives – were they acting out of their own pain, insecurity, fear, or ignorance? Again, it does not excuse the behavior, but it makes it comprehensible. We can ask ourselves how the perpetrator was influenced by his or her past experiences or beliefs or values. Who would we be in the same situation?
Most of all, empathy, like compassion, acknowledges that we all have imperfections, flaws, and moments of poor judgment. This is part of being human. Understanding our common humanity helps us forgive ourselves when we falter as well.
I remember even as an adult, when my father got together with his siblings, they’d all start in with the horror stories again. The pain was still there. “Our father was mean” was the bottom line coming from all the eight kids’ lips.
At one point when my father was telling a story of getting home late because he was doing chores for a neighbor, dreading seeing his father, knowing he would be beaten, railing against the unfairness of it; I asked my father if he could imagine how his father – this man with eight kids might have felt when one of his kids was late getting home? How might it have felt to be his father, responsible for eight kids, in a hard scrabble world?
None of this was meant to excuse the behavior of my grandfather, Pap, we called him. (As an aside, Pap died early after having multiple strokes usually following fits of anger at his children). It’s simply meant to give an example of how walking in another’s shoes might be achieved.
There we have at least two steps that all forgiveness researchers recommend. Acknowledgement and validation of our own wounds first (this may take doing more than once or twice), then, secondly, attempt employing patience and self compassion gently move toward empathy for the perpetrators of that hurt without excusing their behavior.
As far as I’m concerned, it’s hard. And I don’t appreciate people who try to rush me through the process. It’s not helpful.
But I know that ultimately that’s where I want to go WITH the understanding that in no way am I going to put myself in a deliberate position of being hurt again if I can help it.
That’s the caveat to forgiveness. We may be advocating to others and even believing ourselves that we should move on quickly before we’ve worked through the acknowledgement and validation of personal pain and suffering. And it can be dangerous. Spouses who quickly and easily forgive their abusive partners are abused more often.
I know some of the wisdom teachers worked with themselves enough so that they could offer authentic, healthy forgiveness quickly. Maybe…someday. Until then….
We’ll continue reviewing, learning together, sharing some of our celebrations as well as our struggles with forgiveness tonight in our circle. We’ll be talking more about how we think about and experience forgiveness. For most of us, the process will take some time and commitment and support and self-compassion. If you would like to do this with your own friends or family or compassion circle. I’ll bet you’ll be surprised at hearing others’ thoughts and experiences. It’s incredible what I learn. Here are tonight’s questions:
1. What do you think forgiveness means, and how does it differ from condoning or forgetting an offense?
2. How do you feel when you hold on to resentment or anger towards someone? How does it affect your mental and physical well-being? Who would you be without this feeling?
3. Can you think of a time when forgiving someone brought you a sense of peace? Or can you think of a time when someone forgave you? What was the process like, and how did it change your relationship with that person?
4. What are the biggest challenges you face when trying to forgive? What steps could help you overcome these barriers if you wanted to do so?
How might we work wisely and authentically with the process of forgiveness and journey together to The Good Life?
(I would love to hear your own experiences with the forgiveness process)
I don't like my parents; I never will. I didn't cry at either of their funerals. I haven't missed them for five seconds. I didn't - you know, our characters were so at odds with one another right from the beginning. But I do understand them now as human beings, with the understanding of an adult. David Small
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