Shocked and appalled was how I found myself this time last
year. Today, I stand in the shadow of my
former self re-reflecting on a culmination of events that was perpetrated
against me; and one word comes to mind: forgiveness.
For reasons I suspect, but will likely not ever fully know
or understand, I was deeply hurt.
Without going into detail, circumstances were blown out of proportion; I
was made a scape goat; certain avenues were not honored; and when I made my
claim, the rug was pulled from underneath me.
Wolves haunted me while crows heckled at me, and despite my best efforts
to hold my own (believe me, when I say I did), I was powerless to stop it – any
of it.
In the midst of the cascading events, truly I was beside
myself. Events that stemmed months prior
to the culmination replayed over and over in my mind like a broken record - as I
wracked it - trying to figure out where I went wrong, or what I could have done
differently. Clearly some miraculous epiphany
was what I was searching for in my memory to know how I could have changed the
outcome. True to many stages of grieving,
I blamed myself.
Days, weeks and even months after the climaxtic ending waking
up in the aftermath, I was at the mercy of the emotions that followed. Some days it was all I could do to cry –
earphones in and lying in the grass - as I thought of what was taken from
me. Other days it was all I could do to
yell and scream in rage as I slammed doors at the injustice, manipulation, and
abuse of power that was committed against me. Truth be told, these escalating events even
haunted me in my sleep as I’d wake up suddenly reliving scenes from spiraling
events. Never before have I felt so
deeply hurt before – honestly and truthfully.
From where I sat in the midst of these heated and hurt
emotions, it wasn't until three distinct friends of mine on three separate
occasions suggested to me to forgive persons I was holding resentment towards. It was an enormous idea and dare I say task –
this idea of forgiveness.
“How could I?”
“They don’t deserve it!”
“They haven’t earned my forgiveness.”
“I want them to feel the hurt I feel!”
“I’m not ready to forgive!”
Fortunately for myself these friends reminded me of
something. The remorse I was aching for from these persons wasn't going to
come. In other words, some kind of
resolve or apology wasn't going to happen.
I was waiting for a healing word to come from these people, an apology
in a bottle; maybe a flare that says, "I'm sorry," and the hurting
left me numb. And as days went by, and the sun settled on my anger, so did the
darkness laugh, as the wound destroyed, thus turning my prayers to noise. The bitterness I was hiding would eat me
alive; it would seep into my soul (without me even being suspect of it) and
steal my joy. A joy that many know me
for would indeed be robed from me, till all I might now is bitterness. Thus, I needed to let it go, and not be held
down by a hurtful past. Knowing I can’t
change the past, as much as I’d like to.
In a word: acceptance.
Something to be grasped, as I walked this road, I realized something: forgiveness isn't something to be earned, rather it is given,
without an expectation of any resolve in return. Most people associate forgiveness with
letting the perpetrators off the hook, an out of jail free card if you will, an
attitude of “it’s okay” (when it’s really not).
Rather, forgiveness, as I've come to learn again, is more of a
reconciling within of actions that caused so much hurt, and then and there
reconciling those feelings. Then in
turn, to forgive the inexcusable in the other; not forgetting, rather
understanding the human in them. In
essence, it’s not sweeping it under the rug, its water under the bridge; where one
image pretends it’s not there, the other accepts that it has passed. Letting it go, and moving on.
That is not to say that the essence of this word didn't come
without much struggle; in fact it came with ample struggle. After all, in the words of Alexander Pope, “to
err is human, to forgive, divine.” To
say that there isn't the struggle; would suggest that there wasn't an offence
made; hurt done; thus nothing to forgive.
But no matter it something as petty as a lie; or something as hurtful as
betrayal, it still boils down to forgiveness.
Forgiveness surely doesn't happen overnight; without a doubt forgiving takes time – as it did for me.
Will I forget what happened?
No. But I have learned a lot
about myself in the process. I've learned what I’m capable of facing head on. I've learned that I gave it my best effort – and put up quite a
fight. I didn't go quietly if you will –
and for that I’m proud. As cliché as it
sounds, it has made me stronger.
And so it goes, the age old question: can you forgive if you
can’t forget? Sure. Forgiveness doesn't imply amnesia. Rather forgiveness implies an interior
strength greater than the hurt; greater than the emotions that drive us away
from peace within. And in time, time
does heal all wounds – and I’d add: if you allow it to.
“The more I know, the less I understand
All the things I thought I knew, I'm learning them again
I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I know it's about forgiveness.”
~India Arie
